-> chapter four 🃏

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okay, i have to thank you all for giving this fic some love because i was nervous that introducing Art here wouldn't go too well but i'm surprised by the amount of attention we've already got here! <3

Art's character means so much to me as a horror fan, he's so fascinating and not to mention that his actor is one of my FAVORITE people ever in the horror community :') he's the absolute sweetest.

i'm actually so happy to try and do some completely wacky things with him so i hope you have a good time! that's what we're here for 🙏.

rip dawn & tara. i actually was sad to see them go :(
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Tara kept a tight grasp on the (h/c) haired woman's fingers, though both of the girls were covered in blood

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Tara kept a tight grasp on the (h/c) haired woman's fingers, though both of the girls were covered in blood. The warm coppery smell filled the air as it was a mixture of both Dawn and (Y/n)'s blood. They didn't seem to remember the way out of the large building, still very disoriented from the horrible situation they found themselves in.

"Come on.." Tara urged as she crouched them both down behind a broken down car, her eyes wide with fear as she panted heavily. "Jesus, fuck.." She placed her hands down onto the other woman's chest and applied pressure, hoping to stop the deep bleeding words that had been carved there. The girl's chest was stained with her own blood, dress partially ripped as it was almost entirely covered in bodily fluids.

(Y/n) whimpered, trying to process everything that had just happened. All she wanted to do was go home but now one of her friends was brutally murdered and she was being hunted down by a vicious killer clown. She touched her chest, where the words had been so carelessly carved into her. What had that meant? Why did he feel the need to do that?

"It's like he's trying to mark his fucking territory...sick fuck" Tara hissed between her teeth. "Don't worry, okay? I'm not gonna let him lay another hand on you. We're gonna get this bastard" She reassured, quieting down as the clown entered the room.

The tall, menacing clown walked slowly into the room, his black shoes clacking on the floor as his sharp eyes gazed around. His once pristine white and black outfit was now stained with blood from Dawn, himself, and (Y/n). He held a large kitchen knife in one of his hands and a sharp grin plastered on his lips, his teeth stained with blood as well. He was lanky but the strength he held was unbelievable. Still, he had to have a weakness. A way to be beaten.

Tara glared as he turned his back on them, her body moving to grasp a large chunk of wood. She steadied it in her grip, slowly moving out of her hiding place and towards the caught off guard clown. She was going to get this asshole. For Dawn, her poor best friend who hung deceased and sliced in half now. For (Y/n), the innocent girl that he wanted to claim and use as his little puppet. No one else would suffer.

DOWN WITH THE CLOWN, art the clown *act three being re-written* Where stories live. Discover now