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She Was Only A Clown Chapter 39

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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, click hereto read chapter 35, click here to read chapter 36, click here to read chapter 37 and click here to read chapter 38.

Chapter 39

Elwood sped through the chaos of the entity’s mind. His grip on Kiana’s severed head was tenuous.

The doorway to Kiana’s nightmare exploded behind them as the wormy bits of Mandee’s body, all full of mouths and teeth and eyes, congealed back together into one knot of ropey gesticulating awfulness and raced out into the mind-storm after them.

“ELWOOOOOOOOOD!”

A cacophony of bright colors, sounds and visual images surged around them, nearly obliterating every sense they possessed. Elwood used his free hand to grab hold of a glowing thread that stood out in the chaos. The thread lead up and around, seeming to continue forever until it disappeared against the blinding insanity infinitely far away.

“What is that?” Kiana’s head asked as Elwood flew along the glowing thread’s path.

“I laid a guide through the creature’s mind so I could find my way.”

“Your way to what?” Kiana’s head pleaded, her eyes wide, clearly overwhelmed by the sensory overload. “Where are we going? Where are we AT?”

“We only exist as thoughts inside of this being’s mind!” Elwood shouted. “Our physical bodies are dead, but this thing keeps its victims consciousness locked in its brain. To feed off of our torment. That’s where we are now except outside of the prisons it made for us.”

“What?!” Kiana’s head panicked. She hyperventilated in his arms, breathing quickly as though she still had lungs to breathe with and wasn’t just a severed head.

Elwood ignored her panic attack as he continued to race along the glowing thread. “At the same time I was freeing you from your thought-prison, I was out here. Searching. And I found what I was looking for. I located the physical nerve center of the creature’s brain. I found out where we’re actually stored in its flesh! And I laid a thread of my own memory so I could find it again once I’d freed you.”

“I don’t understand a fucking word you’re saying, Elwood!” Kiana screamed. “How do you know how to do any of this?”

Elwood struggled to maintain his one-handed grip on the memory thread as a gust of cosmic mind-wind blew across them. He glanced down at the knotted jumble of tendril-mouths climbing up the thread faster and faster, gobbling up their escape route as it climbed.

Worried, but still zooming along his path, Elwood spoke. “I can’t explain it. It’s almost like, the more the alien peers inside my soul, the more I peer back inside of it. I just know.” He even felt different. In life Elwood was such a meek and fragile person. He could have never performed these kind of heroics. But now? He was changed. Changing? Yes. Becoming something else.

Before Kiana could respond, the tentacle-thing lashed out a ropey limb, finally close enough to catch Elwood by the ankle, dragging him down the memory thread.

Elwood’s grip nearly gave out.

“I-I can’t hold on!” Elwood screamed. His voice barely carried over the infinite howling of the celestial winds, the malevolent thoughts and the solar interference of the core mind of the entity seeming to sense Elwood’s panic, doing its best to drown him out entirely. “You have to keep climbing! Do not lose sight of this thread or you will be lost forever in madness!”

Kiana cried out as Elwood’s hand slipped further down the memory thread, allowing the horrible many-limbed creature to slip its tendril up Elwood’s calf. “I can’t climb! I’m only a head!”

“No!” Elwood said, lifting Kiana’s head up above his own as the tendril that was wrapped around his leg grew mouths and sank them into his flesh. He yelped in pain, but kept speaking. “You’re not even that! You aren’t here, remember?”

Kiana’s head rolled in Elwood’s hand to face him, her features awash with worry.

The creature pulled Elwood’s leg into its largest mouth, crushing the limb to a messy pulp in seconds with its grinding, pulsating teeth.

Elwood screamed. Wincing, he pleaded with the head in his hands. “Make a body! Get out of here! I’ll keep this thing busy. You must find the brain. It’s the only way to put an end to this! It’s how we save the Earth!”

“I can’t just make a body! Are you insane?”

“Look,” Elwood said patiently even though the coils of mouths and suckers continued to eat up his limb. “You find me in the brain, and maybe I’ll let you kill me. Deal?”

Kiana smiled at the twisted joke, in spite of the overwhelming situation.

“Deal.” She wasted no more time arguing. The creature had already consumed Elwood’s leg up past his knee. Its tendrils wrapped around his waist and dug into his flesh.

She hopped out of Elwood’s hand, grabbing the thread with her teeth. It was warm to the touch and tasted faintly sweet. Concentrating, she imagined herself gripping the thread with her hands.

Nothing happened.

Below her, Elwood’s grip nearly gave as the whole trunk of the starfish-shaped tentacle monster ripped through his other leg. Smiling, he looked up at Kiana’s head and said, “see ya soon, psycho!”

With that, he let go of the thread and tumbled into the chaos. With both hands now free, he turned them into long, scythe-like blades and Ginsu-chopped at the terrible monster’s limbs, spraying brackish green fluid into the winds.

In only a moment he was the size of a pinhead, then gone, lost in the solar storm of rage and hatred. Maybe forever if Kiana wasn’t able to get her shit together and fast.

Alone out there, swaying in the chaos, just a head, the entity’s mind seemed to grow louder and the winds seemed to blow more intensely.

Without Elwood’s and the monster’s added weight, the memory thread danced freely in the solar weather. Within moments, Kiana felt her teeth begin to slip off the thread. But no matter how hard she concentrated, she remained just a head with a bit of spine and a few tendons sticking out of her severed neck.

Terrified, she chanced a look down. That was a mistake. There was no end to the kalidescope of colors and sounds and smells blasting at her at light speed, all conspiring to knock her off the memory thread and into oblivion, lost forever amongst the chaos.

Fear overtook her. She opened her mouth and she let out a scream. “No! Nononononono!” she stammered as she fell away from the memory thread.

She clamped her eyes shut so as not to see the awful mental storm around her and she instinctively reached out, scrambling to grab hold of the thread.

And she did.

She opened her eyes, astonished. Her head hung there, as if suspended by some invisible anchor. But it wasn’t an anchor. It was her hand. She could feel the thread between her fingers. Only there were no fingers in front of her. And then, slowly, there were.

First tiny veins appeared, then bone, tendon and muscle. It raced away from the thread as it created the shape of a hand, then a wrist, a forearm, an elbow and then an upper arm.

The same thing happened on the other side of her body. In moments, Kiana had two transparent limbs, glowing and shimmering against the chaos.

Closing her eyes again, Kiana imagined wrapping her feet around the thread. Again, she felt the psychic rope, this time tickling her toes. Opening her eyes, she saw the glowing veins appear. She laughed out loud as they created and defined the shape of her legs.

After a time, her entire endocrine and vascular systems had been mapped out in stunning shining beauty right before her eyes.

A thin skin then sheathed the entire spectacle and she was whole once again. Naked and glowing, Kiana began to climb the thread. But slinking hand over fist, then boosting her lower body up after her was a slow going affair. She looked up after what seemed like hours of climbing, only to see that the thread still disappeared far, far away into the chaotic psychic storm.

“Fuck this shit,” she said, closing her eyes again, trying to recreate that effortless feeling of grabbing hold of the thread when she thought she was falling into oblivion.

She opened her eyes again as three new arms on each side of her shimmering naked body took shape and grabbed hold of the thread.

She smiled, spider-crawling toward the entity’s brain at a lightning pace with her fresh appendages.

Then, as an afterthought, she concentrated again, making her tits and ass a bit bigger to boot.

***

Check back next Saturday for chapter 40!

She Was Only A Clown Chapter 38

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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, click hereto read chapter 35, click here to read chapter 36 and click here to read chapter 37.

Chapter 38

Mark’s heart slammed in his chest as he saw the demonic clowns popping up all through the woods. Five of them, ten, twenty. Where were they coming from? Why didn’t they make a sound?

There were tall clowns, too tall and long to be human with hair that moved as though on fire. Fat clowns so thick and round they could not have moved through the thick underbrush, their undulating bodies betraying the hideous suggestion that more bodies were trapped inside them, fighting to get out. These otherworldly clowns ran the gamut of colors from so bright they seemed to emanate light to so dark they seemed to seep out of the night itself.

More and more clowns appeared everywhere he looked, every time his eyes moved. Every time he blinked there were dozens more. They couldn’t be real. Mark would have heard them walking up, crunching the leaves and twigs. There were clowns not ten feet from him where seconds ago there was nothing but empty woods. Impossible.

Then again, it was a night of impossibility. As Mark staggered once again to his feet, he realized these demons were not here to drag him down to hell. No. He was wrong about that. These laughing nightmares were here to create hell on Earth. And they meant to add him to their clownly legion.

Even though he’d just run into the woods to escape the horrors of his deformed and undead brothers, Mark found himself backtracking toward the clearing still lit by the 4 wheelers his brothers had ridden up on when they were still alive.

Had that really only been an hour ago? Mark felt like he’d lived two lifetimes in that short span. Felt like his entire understanding of reality had been shattered and reformed in less than the time it usually took him to fuck a fag and blow a load in his cum jar.

Carefully he made his way back toward his brothers, toward Ruby and toward Elwood and the clown girl who’d started this whole night of madness. Slick with cold sweat, fighting back nausea, he stumbled ahead. Taking huge ragged breaths, he eventually staggered back into the blinding light of the 4 wheelers, away from the army of monstrous clowns.

As he entered the clearing, his heart alternated between intervals of fast hammering and beats so slow he was sure it had stopped altogether. He knew he was dying. He knew he would not survive the night. A kind of calm came over him when he stopped struggling so hard to live and focused his will down on one final objective before the demons of the night took him.

But Mark’s newfound resolve was immediately extinguished as his eyes adjusted to the light. His brother’s stood in a semi-circle, as they’d done before as human men when they’d gang raped the clown girl, only now, they held in their twisted clutches Ruby the dog. Raping her.

Worse, his dead brothers were not just violating the canine’s orifices, their tendrils and dicks had bore new holes throughout her body which they now rhythmically penetrated as the dog yelped and bucked in their arms.

But worse still, as Mark dragged himself closer to his brothers he saw that Ruby’s own tendrils, the ones she’d grown out of her back minutes before now wrapped around the Nelson brothers’ blood slicked erections, stroking them in time to her own penetrations.

“Jesus fuck!” Carl proclaimed as he slammed Ruby with a pair of tentacles grown side by side out of his serpent-like trunk where his dick would have been located on his normal body. The penis-like limbs dug into Ruby’s stomach like leaches feasting on a fresh wound. “I never knew fuckin’ a dog could be so dang satisfying!”

Jacob’s enormous mouth bounced up and down as he burst into laughter. “The shit you don’t know! Quit lyin’ just cause you’re dead!”

“I ain’t lyin’!” Carl said, defensively.

“What about that time you got all hopped up on crystal meth and snuck into skinny Marco’s barn and rape-murdered all his dalmatian bitch’s pups as they were born?” Philip said, snickering at his demonic brother’s sudden shyness.

“Aw, hell,” Carl said, pouting. “I told you guys to keep that a secret!” A sly smile formed across his misshapen face. “I stuck them little fuckers on my pecker and jacked em like pocket pussies till there weren’t nothing left of em!”

All three brothers burst into sadistic laughter as Mark did his best to sneak past them. His target lay ahead. He only needed a few more steps and he’d have what he wanted. He’d be able to do this one last thing before he succumbed to his wounds.

“Baby brother! Ya’ll come back to play?”

Mark jammed his eyes closed, wincing as if he could will his demon brothers’ notice away if he tried hard enough.

Just a few more steps.

“Hey!” Jacob said, huge fanged mouth flapping. “I’m talkin’ ta you boy!”

Mark hurried forward, stumbling toward his goal, nearly tripping over his own numb feet. The feeling in his extremities was gone. An awful coldness crept into his core as his heart weakly thumped what were surely its final few beats.

And then he stopped. Not by his on volition. He lurched forward, but didn’t move. Stuck.

“Come back, little brother.” Carl said, giggling. “There’s enough Ruby to go around!”

Mark glanced back, careful not to move the sign post. A long black tendril extended out from Carl’s slithering, armless torso. It was lodged into Mark’s back, preventing him from further forward progress.

Now that he saw it, he could feel it worming around in his guts, searching for something. Undaunted, Mark lurched forward, dragging the probing tentacle with him. He only needed three more steps.

One.

Mark felt another jab. This one in his side. Looking back he saw that it was Jacob who had slung out a tethering limb. Mark grunted and shifted every last bit of his weight forward.

Two.

This time pain stung him in the shoulder as Philip sent an anchoring protrusion out to stop him.

Mark felt all three tendrils prodding his innards. But, Mark realized, they were not searching for any tangible meat inside him. Even as the slimy tentacles massaged his heart, lungs, kidneys and liver, he knew what they were searching for.

His soul.

They could have it, right after he finished his Earthly business.

Three.

Mark stood nose to nose with Elwood. His brothers’ taunts behind him, the tugging of their tendrils, their frantic grabbing at his soul could wait five more seconds.

Elwood, the faggot who started all of this. The faggot who lured Mark out into the woods, who got his brothers killed who unleashed this hell on Earth.

He was responsible for it all. And he would pay with his life.

The clown girl still touched Elwood’s face. The two of them stood, not moving, still as stiff as statues.

As Mark reached up and grabbed hold of the stake in his throat, the clowns appeared.

All across the perimeter of the clearing, instantly, their eyes glowing. The clowns filled the woods on all sides. Hundreds, thousands of them.

They all watched. The fat ones, the tall ones, the ones made of squirming people, the ones with no faces and the ones that were all faces. They watched as Mark yanked the sign post from his throat.

With the very last of his lifeblood dripping from the wound, Mark raised his arm weakly, intent upon jamming the blood-stained stick into one of Elwood’s damned black eyes.

But that’s not what happened.

As Mark’s shaking, numb arm came down for the blow, a tendril escaped from Elwood’s mouth, snaked through Mark’s own mouth and jammed itself out the hole in his neck.

Mark stood, wide eyed, stuck in place by black tentacles from all directions, each worming around in his guts, feeling for his soul.

He dropped the sign post, let his weight sag against the steel-like tendrils impaling his body. It felt good to let go. He felt his consciousness slipping away one last time. Felt the blessed darkness of oblivion washing over him.

And then he felt a thousand more tendrils penetrate his body.

The multitude of clown-things all around the clearing, they’d attached their own tendrils to his body. To his hands, his feet, his arms, his legs, over every inch of his torso, his face, his head. He was a living pin cushion.

Living? How?

Living dead, he realized. Just like his brothers. Like his dog and Elwood and the clown girl. All this time he’d been fighting for his life. He hadn’t realized his life was already over. His corpse walked. His soul animating it with the help of whatever devil that propelled all of the demons around him.

And then he saw that devil.

The tendrils found his soul. He felt their cold, wormy grip slither around his consciousness. His essence. After one tentacle wrapped around his bodily ghost, the others pounced like hungry jackals until a feeding frenzy erupted for his metaphysical being.

That’s when the sky came alive.

The gargantuan celestial being hung high up above the Earth but even still dominated the skyline directly above the wooded clearing. Its apendages slowly waved, blinking in and out of view as Mark’s awareness of the dimensional rift in which the being resided waxed and waned. Each of its titanic arms snaked down to the planet’s surface, all attached, invisible to the normal naked human eye, to the heads of every clown monster, all of Mark’s demon brothers, Elwood and the clown girl and even Ruby the dog.

Mark now understood why the clowns could move so quickly, defying Earthy physics. Even now the celestial being, the.. God, was plucking more and more clowns up from all corners of the globe, setting them down in the woods, allowing them to tether themselves to Mark’s dead human body.

But for what purpose?

That knowledge came to Mark in one violent moment as every tendril squirming inside of him took root in his soul and yanked.

Mark ceased to exist. At least as one being. One consciousness. He was shattered into a thousand pieces and sucked up through the tubers infesting his body like they were hungry vacuums.

The thousand Marks were sucked up high into the sky, higher and higher up the invisible arms of the space god, racing faster and faster toward its center mass. Toward its inner mind.

And every one of the thousand versions of Mark heard the same command in the same instance.

As the shattered consciousness entered the entity’s titan body, they all chanted the same mantra. The same order given to them from On High.

They knew but one thing.

Kill. Elwood.

***

Check back next Saturday for chapter 39!

She Was Only A Clown Chapter 36

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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.

Chapter 36

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!”

Nothing.

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!