WHO'S THAT CRYING IN THE CORNER?!?! >;)-The killer
this one was truly joyful to write.
.5
There once was a little boy named Little Leon, he was most definitely a bright one.
One day, he was given a jack-in-the-box for his birthday. of course, Little Leon was overjoyed.
The jack-in-the-box was a red and white striped wooden box that was chipped in several places.
the handle was a bit rusted, but that was no problem for Little Leon. he was just as enthusiastic
beaming with joy as he winded it up, waiting patiently for the clown to pop up.
Well, let's just say it never did. Little Leon had small streams of tears flowing down his rosy
cheeks as his Aunt Barbra tucked him in. "Ssshh! we'll buy you a new toy tomorrow." the aunt bribed.
"But..bu-" Little Leon was cut off by his aunt, "For pete's sake! go to sleep Leon Jenkins Gregory!" snarled Aunt Barbra irritably.
Little Leon was silent as his aunt cut the lights and left him in utter darkness.
A few minutes passed and Little Leon still wasn't able to fall asleep. no matter how hard he shut his eyes, it didn't work.
Suddenly. Little Leon heard what appeared to be muffled cries of agony.
Immediately, Little Leon pulled the covers up to his chin. his curious bug eyes straining to see in the dark.
Little Leon spotted what looked like a huddled form in the corner, whimpering and whining quietly.
Little Leon could see what seemed to be the outline of a very curly afro.
maybe he's lost naively thought Little Leon.
peeling back the covers, Little Leon sat up. placing his small feet onto the stained beige carpet.
Little Leon approached the huddled figure, "Hey, are you ok?" Little Leon's small voice wondered.
reaching his chubby hand into his batman pajamas, he found the tiny keychain light.
Withdrawing it from his pocket, Little Leon pressed the round button. causing a dull light to cast over the shadowed corner.
There, in the faint light. was a anguished clown. a round white face with upside down black triangles painted around the eyes.
thick black smears of lipstick messily covered half his chin and lips. black makeup streaks covered his the clowns bloated cheeks.
the clown was wearing a raggedy faded clown suit that had began to mold with a frizzy grey wig.
The clown removed his dingy gloved hands from his weeping face, a twisted smile festering upon the clown's features.
Reaching forward and snagging Little Leon by his batman shirt and casting him face first to the smelly carpet.
Grinning joyfully as the clown produced a bloodied beaten up wooden baseball bat. forcefully bringing it down onto Little Leon over and over.
The first time it struck, Little Leon gaped open his mouth like a fish. attempting to scream, only silence drifted from his mouth while he was getting beat to a pulp.
The next day. a loud yell echoed through the house, "LEON! BREAKFASTS READY!" Little Leon's mother screamed at the top of her lungs.
Causing a violent cough attack, after several minutes. his aunt, uncle, mom and dad were all seated at the table. continuing to call him with no reply, they finally decided to eat breakfast without him.
"I otta tan tha' boys hide with ma' belt!" stated Little Leon's uncle Roger brutally. slamming his fork down.
"He should be down for breakfas', Jared. you' really gonna let you're boy sleep for the rest'a the day?" Roger directed his question, more like snarl. towards his brother-in-law, Jared. whom was the father of Little Leon. "N-no.." stuttered Jared confused, shooting his wife a look for help.
She gave none and waved him off. hesitantly, he followed Roger up to the rickety stairs and towards Little Leon's room.
Jared's eyes practically bulged out his head, watching as Roger ripped his thick leather belt from his beer belly and charged through the closed door to Little Leon's room.
It was empty, there was no Little Leon. only the jack-in-the-box he was given for his birthday, which sat on the shockingly neatly made bed.
It appeared to be leaking, luring Jared and Roger closer to the wooden box. a thick dark crimson increasingly soaked the blue sheets.
Jared gagged, stepping back. Roger shot him a glance out of the corner of his crust-filled eye before reluctantly winding the rusty handle, which was also covered in a sticky liquid.
Nothing. the box didn't pop open or anything.
Frustrated, Roger slammed his bulky fist onto the wooden lid. popping open in the process.
Roger raised his furry eyebrows in surprise as a foul smell wafted up his nostrils.
Leaning forward. Roger's eyes widened in horror at the squishy flesh, bone, gut and blood filled box.
Examining it closer, He let out a womanly scream of sheer horror at the torn bloodied batman fabric embedded in the bloody flesh.
