"it all started when you met eyes with the strangest of individuals"
a sinister clown terrorizes four young women, murdering anyone that gets in his path. one of them is his favorite and he's willing to do anything to make her life a living nightma...
this chapter is mainly art, so enjoy some murder sprees!
i like to give my own personality to art, that's why you'll notice he has his own snarky quips and stuff sometimes 🤣 i hope you find it entertaining cuz it's fun to write him that way. Obviously he doesn't talk so when you're reading, you can see the sarcasm and snark that he has there. that's all intentional! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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A soft bell chimed from its perch atop of the glass door of the laundromat, a pair of large black shoes entering as an extremely bloody clown practically skipped through the entrance with his bloodlust surging. He remembered taking himself out with his gun but somehow, he was alive and well with no signs of any gunshot wounds on him. He wasn't sure what brought him back but he definitely wouldn't complain about it. He felt the thrill of taking that man's life about an hour ago but he figured that playing with somebody's eyeballs once you've ripped them from their sockets was absolutely messy. He playfully leaned down and sniffed at himself, covering his nose at the stench of blood and dirt.
He dropped his heavy trash bag down onto one of the flimsy plastic chairs, feeling a sense of being watched all of a sudden, which did irritate him. Spinning around, he turned to see a man stationed on one of the chairs across from him. He was staring at him in judgment, his face screwing up into a look of disgust as he observed the bloody mess that was the clown.
"You know...Halloween ain't for a couple more days, buddy. Why don't you drop the whole clown getup and act like a normal person?" The man's voice called out to him as he continued to stare. "But damn did you go all out...that blood almost looks real" He commented.
Art grinned to himself, sauntering over to the man and settling himself down into the chair beside him. He held up one of his fingers, grabbing onto his small black hat and holding it out for the man to see. He gestured for the man to look inside of it and was amused when he took a confused glance but then fell for it.
As the man gazed inside, he was confused because there was nothing in the small hat. "Man, I don't get it...are you a clown or some type of stupid magician?" His mouth opened to release a laugh but he was interrupted by the sound of his own gurgling voice as pain shot through his entire body. Blood spilled from his lips as the clown clapped happily.
Art had jammed a large knife that he had hid up his pant leg, for safe keeping, into the man's skull. He stood from his seat as the life slowly left the man's eyes, whistling silently to himself in amusement. Now, he finally had some peace and quiet.
His hands reached up to unzip the bloody outfit, sliding it down his lanky body as he stood there with his body bare and pale. He felt naked without his costume but that's because he was. He placed the outfit into the wash before deciding to messily wipe his shoes off with a towel.
He huffed a silent sigh, settling onto the plastic chair as the deceased man sat across from him. His body was folded up to cover at least some of his dignity (though he didn't have much of that). He suddenly looked over with a small expression of confusion before spotting that familiar little girl he kept seeing for whatever reason.
