Summary - With their rebirth, Art and (Y/n) dwindle into hiding while they recover from the tragic events that had occurred, finding tranquility in each other as they reunite. However, once that peace was disturbed, there was no telling what chaos had been unleashed.
Notes - This follows the events of Terrifier 3 for the most part, but obviously not to a T with more behind the scenes with Art and reader and the reader being incorporated into different scenes.
Let me know if you have a request!
Warning(s) - Violence, gore, smut, alcohol/drinking, Vicky and Art are their own warning
⚠️ Do not read if you care about spoilers for the third movie/haven't watched it ⚠️
Song Inspiration -
Paul Wiley - Morgue (Terrifier 2)
ZAND - Slut Money
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(Y/n) basked under his intense gaze, adjusting to his appearance. Something felt different. New and refreshing. She didn't know what to say, not after all that had happened and all that was happening in the moment so quickly.
She moved to sit up, Art immediately holding out his hand and she took it with grace. He stood as her torso rose with ease, carefully watching her every movement as her legs followed suit.
Her hand held onto Art's arm for support until she felt well enough to stand on her own. She stood there for a moment, silent as her body adjusted from being still for so long.
Without a word, she looked around the dusty room with a neutral expression as the clown grinned down at her menacingly. (Y/n) then spotted a cracked, full-length mirror leaning against one of the walls.
She turned, feet moving her towards it suspensefully as Art kept his own planted, watching her in anticipation. Once stood in front of it, her arm reached out to wipe off a bit of the dust built onto it and her stomach sank.
She almost couldn't recognize the woman in front of her. Her skin was significantly more pale, blemishes somewhat faded and features more pronounced. Her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion when she locked eyes with herself, leaning in to further examine.
She noticed what seemed to be a thin, white ring along the outer edge of her pupils and she blinked to see if her mind was playing tricks on her. And yet they still remained.
(Y/n) then spotted the blood stain on her shirt and looked down at herself, hand reaching up to brush her fingers over the wound that was no longer bleeding, and somehow already healing.
Art finally moved, stalking over to stand behind her as she straightened herself upright. She turned her head to look up at him with a curious gaze.
"What's happened?" She whispered, yet received no response.
Art simply stared with the same smile he always bore.
"Are we dead?" She asked in a now flat tone.
Art shook his head slowly.
"How? I saw your body, that's not possible." She pressed, her body now completely facing him.
The clown shrugged with a mischievous look in his eyes. He then brought up one of his hands to her face, knuckles brushing against her cheek as he admired her new appearance. The same hand reached around to rest itself on her lower back, guiding her with him to a rocking chair that sat near one of the few unbroken windows of their home.
"This has to be a dream..." She commented mindlessly as he tossed away a piece of wood that sat on the chair, turning it around to face the window and sitting on it. "Or limbo..." She continued with a dazed look in her eyes, moving to sit on Art's lap when he outstretched his arm closest to her to invite her.
YOU ARE READING
Blood of A Rose
Fanfiction(Y/n) is an aspiring artist, but rather than mainstream, she captures what she considers to be the beauty of death. She has been fighting with the industry and local art museums to publicize her work. Reaching negative publicity, a particular clown...
