SHE WAS ONLY A CLOWN is a special serialized novella presented in weekly installments every Saturday. Click here to read chapter 1, click here to read chapter 2, click here to read chapter 3, click here to read chapter 4, click here to read chapter 5, click here to read chapters 6 an 7, click here to read chapters 8 and 9, click here to read chapters 10 and 11, click here to read chapters 12 thru 14, click here to read chapters 15 and 16, click here to read chapters 17 and 18, click here to read chapters 19 thru 21, click here to read chapters 22 and 23, click here to read chapters 24 and 25, click here to read chapters 26 and 27, click here to read chapters 28 and 29, click here to read chapters 30 thru 32, click here to read chapters 33 and 34, and click here to read chapter 35.
Mark Nelson took an uneasy step forward. He had managed to find a balance holding the sign post jutting out of his neck in such a way as to cause the least amount of agony ripping through his body. It had been about three minutes since the naked and bloody clown girl had reached out and touched Elwood’s face through his faggy clown mask. It had taken Mark that long to get to his feet without ripping the wound in his neck further.
He took another step and nearly fell over. He was dizzy and sick to his stomach. He’d lost so much blood he should have probably been dead already.
“I am fuckin’ dead,” he thought. “I’m in fuckin’ hell.”
How else could he explain the harrowing scene in front of him? His brothers lay in chunks scattered all around him, his dog was dead and the monster who’d killed them all was some tight bodied clowny girl with octopus arms growing out of her.
He’d never seen no shit like that ever not even in his worst nightmares. He knew it wasn’t a dream because his dreams almost entirely consisted of giant purple veiny dicks chasing him around, cumming hot sticky jizz all over him until he was swimming in the stuff being left with no choice but to drink it down like thick maple syrup. Gay shit. Wasn’t no gay shit going on here, not really.
Still, Hell or not, Mark Nelson hated being alone more than anything. With his dog and his brothers all dead, that only left the clown slut and gay ass Elwood out here in the woods alive. Only they weren’t acting like they were alive. Each of them stood stone still. Not even breathing.
“E-Elwood?” he said in a feeble voice that wasn’t entirely for show. Sure he wanted to sound meek and unimposing. Surely after the fuckin’ he’d put on that fag and threatening to kill him and all that, Elwood had to be sore with him. But Mark needed help. He had to get to a hospital and get the post out of his neck or he was donezos for real.
Elwood didn’t answer him. He limped another careful step toward the pair of weirdos dressed as clowns. What was with that anyway? Was dressing up like queer clowns some new thing everybody was doing? Mark never paid attention to new trends even in Hopp’s Hollow let alone anywhere else. He’d never owned a computer and didn’t bother to watch TV ‘cept for rasslin’ and big dick porn.
Wasn’t nothing he hated worse than a porno guy with a small pecker banging away on a beautiful lady. It bothered him so much, he didn’t even look up the porno girls by name anymore. He only looked up the dudes he knew had the biggest dicks. He’d got to where he could spot his favorite big porno dicks without even seeing the guys’ faces.
In fact, he hated looking at their faces. He’d broken his last computer when the porno he was watching cut up to the guy’s face right as Mark came and he had to look the dude in the face while busting his nut.
He wasn’t no fag and wasn’t gonna stand for that faggy ass shit so he picked up his computer, boner still sticking up out of his pants and threw it against the wall. He ain’t no fag. He said it again under his breath to reassure himself, as he often did.
Elwood didn’t answer him. He limped a little closer. “I-I really am s-sorry I fucked ya. Didn’t mean nothin’ gay by it I was just playing around is all, you know? I ain’t mad ya’ll killed my brothers. They was real shit brains anyway. Used to take turns trying to fuck me when we was younger and shit. I ain’t never liked them and I tell you what, I’m glad they’re dead!”
The two figures remained frozen together like weird clown statues. Mark inched closer until he was directly in front of the two of them. They looked waxen. Dead. “Please, man,” Mark said, sniveling. “You gotta get me to the hospital ‘fore I die!”
Mark waved his hand in front of Elwood’s clown face. “Hello?”
Slowly, he reached up and took the clown mask by its wide fanged mouth and lifted it up enough to see Elwood’s face.
He yelped and reeled backward from what he saw, quickly letting the mask drop back down. Elwood’s eyes were gone. In their place was nothing. A blackness deeper than anything Mark had ever seen swirled in there like he was seeing far into the outer reaches of space. They were as black as the octopus arms that had grown out of the clown girl’s back and torn his brothers to pieces.
“One of them,” Mark said softly, remembering what the clown girl had said just before she’d touched Elwood’s face.
Even someone as dense and internally confused as Mark could tell that whatever the clown girl was, monster, nightmare or demon, she’d gotten to Elwood, too. He was gone. Mark was truly alone out there in those cold dark woods.
He stood and shivered with that thought for a moment. And then he heard Ruby growling.
Mark flinched, causing fresh agony from his neck wound to pulse through his body. He slowly turned and saw that his German Shepard was not, in fact, dead.
She lifted herself off the ground. Her coat was matted with sweat and covered with leaves and dirt. Mark didn’t think dogs could sweat.
“Here girl,” he said, tentatively with fear in his shaky voice, motioning for the growling demon dog to come to him. “That’s a good girl.”
It wasn’t as if Ruby was a friendly dog even on her best days. Mark had made sure of that. She hadn’t been allowed to sleep in the house for years for fear of her attacking one of his family members. When she was younger, he’d routinely stuck firecrackers up her ass, beat her with leather straps and starved her for days only to let her loose inside neighborhood chicken coops to make her vicious.
But Mark was desperate to not be alone, even if his psychotic dog was the only living thing out there in those woods not possessed by demons.
Except she was.
It was her eyes that gave it away. He saw them as she took tentative steps forward, head low, fangs barred growling at her master as though he was no more than a chicken in one of those neighborhood coops and she hadn’t eaten in days.
Her eyes contained the same swirling blackness that had infected Elwood. The same eyes the demon clown girl possessed.
Mark had settled on that theory. That these were demons from hell. He couldn’t be in hell, not yet. He wasn’t dead. He hurt too much to be dead. These demons had crawled up from hell and were here to drag him back down with them for the awful things he’d done in life. The kinds of things he’d never dare tell anyone, not even his brothers who he’d seen do things to people and animals that even made him cringe in terror.
“S-stay back, devil!” He managed little more than a shrill yelp in place of the commanding bellow he’d intended.
As Ruby stalked forward the fur on her back started to pulse and roil, like a nest of ticks had sprung to life and now danced in time to her growls. But it wasn’t ticks that sprung forth from her coat. It was a series of those jet black tendrils that had laid waste to Mark’s family. They coiled up slowly like smoke and hovered in place, a dozen or more of them.
“I ain’t goin’ to no Hell with you, bitch dog! I’d sooner kill you and eat your privates for dinner!” But his threats had nothing on them. Terror caused his voice to tremble and break as he backed up passed the demon clown and gay ass Elwood.
He’d been glancing in that direction, moving ever so slightly so as not to excite Ruby, cussing at her to keep her attention away from his pivot toward an open spot in the wooded area. A spot he’d decided to run through quick like a bullfrog dropped in boiling water, post in his neck be damned. If it broke free and he bled to death, so be it. He wouldn’t end up one of them things from Hades.
Only problem with his choice of direction was he had to run through the chunky and bloody remains of his poor dead brothers.
Bigger problem than that, as he prepared to make a go at it was that he heard the three of them start to laugh.
Check back next Saturday for chapter 37!