Art The Clown X Reader One shots! (Open)

Painted Carnage (Male reader)

The night was unnervingly quiet. You and your best friend, Liam, were walking back from a late dinner, cutting through the quieter parts of the city to save time. The streetlights flickered, casting long, eerie shadows that danced across the cracked pavement.

"Man, you're the one who wanted the scenic route," Liam joked, nudging you. "If I get mugged, it's your fault."

You rolled your eyes. "No one's out here this late. It's fine."

But even as you said it, unease prickled at the back of your neck. The silence wasn't normal. It felt heavy, oppressive, like the city was holding its breath.

The two of you rounded a corner, and that's when you saw him.

A man in a filthy clown costume stood under a streetlight, his pale, painted face grinning wide, eyes glittering in the dim light. He didn't move, didn't speak-just stood there, watching.

"What the hell..." Liam muttered, his steps faltering.

You stopped too, your pulse quickening. Something about the man felt wrong.

"Let's just go," you whispered, tugging at Liam's sleeve.

But as you turned to leave, the clown moved. He didn't walk or run; he skipped toward you with an unsettling, almost cartoonish energy.

"Shit," Liam hissed, grabbing your arm and breaking into a run.

You didn't look back. The two of you sprinted down the alley, weaving through narrow passages, your breath coming in ragged gasps. When you finally stopped, chest heaving, you realized you had no idea where you were.

"Did we lose him?" Liam asked, leaning against a wall, his voice shaking.

"I think so," you panted, though your heart was still pounding.

But then you heard it, a faint, high pitched honk.

Your blood turned to ice.

"Run," you whispered.

Before either of you could move, the clown appeared at the end of the alley, his grin wider than ever. He tilted his head, as if mocking your fear, and pulled something from behind his back, a large hammer.

"Go!" you shouted, shoving Liam forward.

You ran again, but the clown was faster. You barely made it to the next corner before something heavy collided with your back. Pain exploded through your body, and you hit the ground hard.

"Y/N!" Liam shouted, but he didn't stopр. Не disappeared into the shadows, leaving you behind.

The clown stood over you, his grin never faltering. He raised the hammer again, but instead of striking, he brought it down beside your head with a loud clang, the sound reverberating in your ears.

Your vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the edges. The last thing you saw before losing consciousness was the clown's painted face, his wide eyes gleaming with sadistic delight.

When you came to, your head throbbed, and your wrists and ankles burned. Blinking against the dim light, you realized you were tied to a chair, your limbs bound with rough, scratchy rope.

Panic set in as you took in your surroundings. You were in a decrepit warehouse, the walls streaked with grime and the air thick with the stench of mildew and rust.

"Y/N?" a weak voice called.

Your heart leapt. "Liam?"

You turned your head as much as you could and spotted him a few feet away, tied to a metal pole. His face was bruised, his clothes torn.

"Oh, thank God," you breathed. "Are you okay?"

"Not really," he rasped, trying to pull against his bindings. "Who the hell is that guy?"

"I don't know," you admitted, your voice trembling. "I've never seen him before."

A low, creaking sound drew your attention, and your stomach dropped. The clown was here.

He emerged from the shadows, pushing a rusty cart laden with tools-knives, pliers, saws, and other things you didn't want to identify. His grin was impossibly wide, his eyes locked onto you as he wheeled the cart closer.

"Listen," you started, your voice shaky. "If you want money, I can get you money. Just let us go."

The clown stopped, tilting his head as if considering your words. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small horn, squeezing it once. The shrill sound made you flinch.

"God, what is wrong with you?" Liam spat.

The clown turned his attention to Liam, his grin somehow growing even more sinister. He grabbed a long knife from the cart and sauntered over, twirling the blade in his hand.

"Hey! No!" you shouted, struggling against the ropes. "Leave him alone!"

But the clown ignored you. He crouched in front of Liam, tilting his head like a curious animal.

"Don't touch me, you freak!" Liam snapped, kicking out as much as his bindings would allow.

The clown's grin faltered for a moment, and then he lashed out, slashing a shallow cut across Liam's cheek. Liam cried out, his head snapping to the side.

"Stop it!" you screamed. "Stop!"

The clown turned to you, his expression mocking, and walked over. Without warning, he slapped you across the head, the force making your ears ring.

"Bastard," you hissed, tears stinging your eyes.

The clown wagged a finger at you like a scolding parent before returning to Liam.

For the next hour, you were forced to watch in helpless horror as the clown toyed with Liam. He used his tools with unsettling precision, each movement deliberate and cruel. Liam's screams echoed through the warehouse, his pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears.

Every time the clown passed your chair, he made sure to hit you, a slap, a punch, a flick to the ear. It was as if he was reminding you that you were powerless, that this was all your fault.

"Please," you begged, voice cracking. "Stop. I'll do anything. Just stop."

The clown paused, looking at you with something almost resembling curiosity. Then he reached out, brushing his fingerless gloved hand against your cheek. For a moment, his touch was almost gentle, and you thought.. hoped that maybe he'd listen.

But then he smacked you again, harder this time, and turned back to Liam.

By the time it was over, Liam was barely conscious. Blood pooled around him, his breathing shallow.

The clown stood over him, his grin never faltering. He raised a long, jagged knife, and you knew what was coming.

"Don't!" you screamed, tears streaming down your face. "Please, don't do this!"

But the clown didn't even glance your way. He plunged the knife into Liam's chest, the sound of it tearing through flesh making you gag. Liam let out a choked gasp, his body convulsing once before going still.

"No!" you sobbed, struggling against the ropes. "No, no, no!"

The clown turned to you, blood dripping from the knife, his expression one of pure satisfaction. He tilted his head, as if waiting for your reaction.

"You're a monster," you spat, trembling with rage and grief.

He grinned wider, leaning in close until his face was mere inches from yours. You could smell the coppery tang of blood on him, the stench making you want to vomit.

He reached out, cupping your face in his bloodstained hand. His thumb brushed your cheek, leaving a streak of blood, and he tilted his head as if studying you.

Then he stood, gave you a mocking little bow, and disappeared into the shadows, leaving you tied to the chair, surrounded by silence and death.

The only sound was your ragged breathing and the faint drip of blood hitting the floor...