Y/n L/n was a therapist in training at ShadyBrook, a mental institute for the criminally insane. She usually worked with newer patients and this how she came upon her worst nightmare: Jack the Clown. After only a few "visits" the two walk their own...
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Darkness. That was all I could see. It invaded my vision and mind as I slowly opened my eyes to see the deepest inky black. I tried to speak but my voice was hoarse from lack of use and something that felt like a piece of cloth guarded my mouth. Slowly twisting my body I tried to move my wrists and found they were bound by what felt like rope. However when I moved my legs I found that nothing seemed to be wrong with them. I smiled to myself as at least I could try and escape when my vision returned to it's normal haze. Suddenly loud footsteps stopped my thoughts as they clicked against the concrete, almost as if the person was wearing heels. My breathing stopped short as I felt the person kneel in front of me, their hands running up and down my legs giving me goosebumps. That's when the person grabbed my arms and hoisted me up before leading me, my feet tumbling over each other. The figure didn't speak, only chuckling occasionally when I would almost trip, their chuckle sounding feminine. I tried to speak but was suddenly thrust towards the ground. I let out a cry as I thought I heard my wrist snap from the force of being pushed. "Careful with her, Chancie! We don't need the merchandise broken!"
"Sorry, puddin." The voice sounded feminine as well as sarcastic.
"Now bring her here."
Once again I felt the pair of hands man handle me as they drug me towards the more scruffy voiced figure. Being pushed once more, I landed on someone's lap, their sharp nails carefully tracing designs into my back while my heart beat faster and faster as I was truly terrified. I heard a raspy chuckle as I felt cold flesh against my arms. "Leave us, Chancie. I want time alone with my Y/n."
"Of course, puddin." This "Chancie" sounding very forced with her words, almost as if holding back her anger.
I could hear her footsteps walk away, a door slamming shut as I was left alone with whosoever lap I was on. The person shifted me so I was facing upwards, their hot breath coming through the wool bag on my head. Suddenly it was ripped off, my view no longer obscured. I shook as slowly the person took my gag out, their fingernails delicately sliding across my cheek causing me to shiver. Gradually opening my eyes, I peeked over at the figure I currently sat on. That's when I gasped. The figure looked decayed, old and worn, but I could still recognize those haunting characteristics of his. Slowly lifting my hand I placed it on his cheek, his head melding into my touch as a growl escaped his throat. I gulped as I watched his eyes opening before he took my hand and lead it to his lips, giving my knuckles a kiss. My body trembled feeling his soft but cold lips upon my warm flesh, the feeling leading me to call out his name.
