The Freakshow Massacre

3.

Claudia lifted her eyelids, hoping in vain that she'd find herself back in her strawberry and rose petal scented bedroom (her personal space), warm, safe and secure. Praying that what she'd witnessed was nothing but a mere, prolonged, addlepated nightmare.

Tragically she woke to find herself in absolute reality: 'the same execrable odious tent', and the same repulsive stench, along with the unimaginable physical pain she was suffering. Unfortunately, it wasn't her bedroom.

Todd's dead body was still there, in the middle of the tent in total peace and sombre. It could not be said that Thanatos who in Greek mythology personifies death, may have been the culprit; it was, unequivocally the diabolical and reprehensible Machiavellian clowns and cohort. The previously fluid blood, which had stained Todd's shirt had now inspissated and coagulated throughout his body, characterising a dark shade of 'off purple sangria'.

Claudia tried to get up; however, was hindered. She peered down to observe the subject of her incapacitation, she was flummoxed. Her hands were tied together. And in such a bemusing and haphazard style, like an extra metre had been used superfluously. As a consequence, her natural and immediate reaction was to scream at the top of her lungs.

To compound her dread, Claudia felt her suppressed vocal orations, vibrating against a tightly bound bandana, partially secreted in her mouth. Anything she attempted to yell out, would by default be muffled. Tears began surging down the sides of Claudia's unnaturally, pale and once photogenic cheeks, before dripping off of her chin.

She was pondering over the thoughts which seemed to harp on in her brain. She couldn't help continuously question why this was happening to her, as well as what was happening.

During her self-contained semi-emotional outburst, Claudia failed to visualise those soulless and insipid clowns. They were nowhere to be seen. Was she alone? Claudia surmised.

She wondered what Marty, Marcia and Stanley were doing and their overall state. Speculating whether they would've deduced what had happened and sought help from the police. If that was the case, then Claudia could relax somewhat.

But then again, even if they had figured out what had happened, how were they to get help? They were about an hours drive away from home and their car was without fuel. What if they were still seated in that jalopy and total unaware of the evil and heinous happenings?

Claudia concluded that that was the case; they were still at the car, waiting for her and Todd to return. Not knowing that Todd had been killed and that she was being held hostage. The possibility that her demise would be similar and carried out by those moronic hydranencephaly clowns.

Her ribcage was progressively tightening around her lungs with every breath she took, making the breathing task almost impossible. Her heart was like fragile glass bordering on the probability that it could shatter at any given time.

The 'what if' questions persisted. What if she was held captive until she died in that semi hogtied state. Locked away and restricted from the outside world? What if Marty, Marcia and Stanley were killed before they could try and get help? What if she wasn't killed and didn't die...how long could she remain in that state before she lost her mind, before she went bonkers?

Her thoughts pertaining to being left alone quickly subsided when she spotted the two forbidding and aloof female clowns gawking at her from a distance. Claudia wanted to cry and scream out. She wanted to know what they wanted from her! Why they were going what they were. However, the bandana prevented her from uttering a single word...anything.

The female clowns started to approach her, slowly, as if to heighten the intimidation factor. The pink-haired one was in possession of a pocket knife which she held tightly. Claudia started screaming; however, it was barely able to be heard. Her attempts were coming out as muffled cries.