by Kyle Adams
****
He hated clowns, why did it have to be another clown? It did make sense though, since, clearly, the only thing capable of killing a clown would be an even scarier clown. And this one just looked demonic, like a clownanized version of one of those Japanese animation cartoons where the faces were disproportionate. The make-up around the eyes was done so they appeared three times larger than eyes should ever be. Kent noticed that when the clown blinked, even his eyelids were painted, so it looked like he was always watching you, and it felt like they were slowly devouring your soul. The face was painted with a softness that gave it a touch of femininity. When paired with the obvious male body, the effect was just horrendous. The worst, and even creepier part, was the purple wig he wore styled into pigtails.
Looking at him made Kent shudder.
It was impossible to think rationally when looking at something worse than any nightmares he ever imagined. The evil clown said something, but Kent didn’t quite hear him. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his own rapid heartbeat. He stood there, frozen with fear, and watched as the clown suddenly rushed Uriah. He must have sized them up and found Uriah to be the bigger threat. Kent thought that was probably an accurate conclusion as he continued to just stand there dumbfounded. He knew he should try helping Uriah, but he couldn’t seem to get his body to cooperate. Uriah and the clown were shuffling around, each holding onto the other’s shoulders looking to gain an advantage.
He knew he had to do something before Uriah was seriously hurt. Kent forced himself to look for a weapon, but found nothing. He quickly reached down and took off the one shoe he was still wearing. He’d almost forgotten his other shoe was still being held prisoner in the headless clown’s pants, which reminded him that the only good clown was a dead clown. By the time he came up holding his shoe like a baseball bat, he realized he had been too slow and was then forced to watch as the psycho clown pulled a knife out of his pants and plunged it into the center of Uriah’s chest.
Uriah shrieked, “You stabbed me! You fucking stabbed me.” Before he could even finish voicing his outrage over being stabbed, Kent had swung his shoe with full force, the heel connecting with the back of the clown’s skull. The clown fell down hard, and Kent just reacted on instinct. He bent down and grabbed for the clown’s pants, trying to strip them off while the clown was incapacitated. He was in too big of a hurry, though, and wasn’t making any progress on his own.
“Quickly, we have to tie him up. Help me get his pants off so we can use them as rope.”
“Don’t you even care that I was stabbed in the chest? I could be minutes away from dying.”
“Please, it was just a flesh wound, if that. You didn’t even let out a grunt of pain or fall down. You’re not even bleeding, you’re fine. I’ve already sent an emergency text message, so the police should be here soon. But we really should tie him up before he tries attacking again.”
“You know if you were the one stabbed, I would care, even if you looked fine.” Uriah sounded hurt, but it was obvious the knife didn’t even penetrate his protective gear; he’d get over it.
“What the fuck, man, you didn’t say your boyfriend was a psycho and would attack me. Now I probably have a concussion; and he called the cops? You suck, man, you suck badly.” The clown sounded groggy. He’s lucky Kent couldn’t find a real weapon and had to resort to using his shoe.
“What’s he talking about, Uriah?” Kent asked suspiciously.
“Look, Kent, this is my friend, Brandon. I’ve told you about him. He’s really into special effects and wanted to try out his skills to see if they could pass as real or not. His family has owned this house for years, but they’ve never done anything with it, so he thought this would be a perfect place to try some things out. He wanted me to let him know how good his stuff looked. I was like, “well, let’s set it up like a haunted house for Halloween, and I’ll bring my warm, affectionate, and always forgiving boyfriend and see how he reacts to everything.”
“There’s a lot more cool and scary shit upstairs, but it seemed like you would never make it up there, so I came down hoping to chase you there,” evil clown number two, now known as Brandon, said.
“Well, that was a stupid plan. Do you know how many times I’ve heard Uriah yell at movies, “You stupid big titted bitch! Run out the front door, not up the stairs!?” Why would you standing at the base of the stairs make me want to dodge around you, just to run up to the second floor where we’d be cornered?”
“Man, shut the hell up, you gave me a concussion. Don’t be trying to sound all logical.”
“Fair enough. Why don’t you just close your eyes and not wake up,” Kent told Brandon before turning to face Uriah. “So, you set this entire thing up just to scare and then humiliate me? So that you could laugh about what a terrified turtle I am with your friends?”
“Loosen up, Kent, it was just for fun. You have to admit you’ve never been scared so good before. Plus, I’ll still be your slave later.” Uriah sounded smugly confident, like he thought burying the bone could fix everything. Not that Uriah was a bad boyfriend or did things he needed to make up for very often. He was actually an extremely loyal and devoted boyfriend. He just had the occasional issue of not thinking things through.
“Go suck on a stick, Uriah. I’m so pissed; I’ll probably never sleep with you again. You told someone my biggest fear just so you could watch me squirm? That’s low, Uriah. I’d never try to use your fears against you. I’d never ask my friends to shove you off a pier just to watch you struggle in the water while we all laugh about it.”
“That’s different. You know I can’t swim and would drown. I have actual reasons to be afraid of the water.”
“Oh, so because you don’t understand why I’m afraid of clowns, there must not be any serious reason for it, making it okay to joke at my expense? That’s real sweet of you.” Kent knew he was laying it on thick, but he needed to for Uriah to understand that it’s not really a fun joke if someone ends up being psychologically scarred for life.
Before Uriah could reply, or hopefully apologize, a young cop busted into the hallway with his gun drawn. “No one move; you’re surrounded!” Kent took a quick look around the corridor looking for the reinforcements. Uriah looked confused, probably wondering when his joke went too far. Brandon started to struggle trying to push himself up. Kent hadn’t thought he’d hit him that hard, it was just a shoe.
“Look officer there’s been a —” Brandon started but was cut off when the officer shouted, “Die freak!” before there was the loud bang from the gun firing. Kent stared horrified as Brandon fell back against the floor. He made a few gasps for breath before settling into what sounded like a painful rhythm. His hands clutched against his stomach as the red liquid pooled on his shirt, running between his fingers.
“Jesus, you shot him, you fucking shot him! What did you do that for?” Uriah asked as he started to rush over to where Brandon lay struggling to breathe.
“He looked at me funny. It made me feel uncomfortable. Don’t take another step or you’re next.” The cop sounded like he wanted a reason to fire another bullet.
“You can’t just shoot someone for making you feel uncomfortable!” Kent protested.
“I just did,” the cop replied flatly, like he could have just buttered his toast instead of shooting someone.
“He needs help; you can’t just let him bleed out!” Uriah tried using his puppy dog eyes on the cop, it seemed to almost work.
Kent found himself irrationally jealous. “I thought you only used those eyes on me? What if that doesn’t work, you going to offer to blow him next?”
Uriah slowly tilted his head, staring at Kent with a confused expression on his face. “Jesus, Kent, the man is dying for fuck’s sake, and a trigger happy cop is threatening to shoot us. I really don’t think now is the time for this.”
“Still, you told me those eyes were for me only and here you are making them for him. Is it be
cause you feel guilty for how out of control the situation has gotten and how your screwed up prank is the reason your friend’s got a concussion, been shot, and is now lying there dying, painfully slow?”
“No, guys, I think I’m fine, the pain is almost gone and it’s getting easier to breathe.” Brandon hadn’t actually moved, but it was nice of him not to make a big deal out of being shot or begging for an ambulance.
“Oh God, he is dying; doesn’t the pain go away right before the end?” Uriah asked, looking on the verge of tears. At least he’d probably learn his lesson about pulling such mean pranks. Kent still didn’t want to see him looking so miserable, though.
“Okay, Alex, I think he’s learned his lesson. You can put your gun away,” Kent said to the fake cop.
“Sorry I shot you, man, but you looked freaky as shit when you sat up, and my reflex reaction just kicked in. I wanted to see if you were okay right after, but, being a professional, I couldn’t break character. Those paintballs can hurt like a bitch though, especially when you take one to the stomach,” Alex said to Brandon as he walked over to kneel beside him.
“So you knew the whole time this was a setup and you just played along so you could prank me back?” Uriah asked.
“I overheard you talking the other morning on the phone about finalizing all the details. Then I decided the only way to really make you understand why it isn’t fun being hoaxed was to pay you back. Alex said he was up for the job and he already had the cop outfit.” Kent gave a slight shrug, Uriah had set him up first.
“Wait, you knew and you still tried to knock Brandon out? And where did you meet a stripper cop?”
“Hey, I’m not a stripper, I’m an improvisational actor. He hired me through my website. I’ll give you my card before I leave.” Alex butted in before turning back to continue talking with Brandon. Kent heard enough to know he was asking if Brandon would help out with makeup and special effects when he needed them for a gig. Brandon couldn’t agree quickly enough.
“I wasn’t prepared for him to be so creepy and demonic. He scared the piss out of me and then he attacked you. I just reacted. Next time, I won’t try to save you from the knife wielding psycho clown, you ingrate.” Kent responded to Uriah’s original question.
“Aww, baby, you went through all that trouble just for me? This is why we were made for each other. No one else would ever put up with either one of us.” Uriah said as he grabbed Kent’s hips and pulled him closer so they stood facing each other.
“I’m still not mattress dancing with you,” Kent said playfully, but they both knew he was full of it.
“I’ll just wait for you to fall asleep and then I’ll have my wicked way with you.” Uriah played along with him as he leaned in closer to Kent.
“Wouldn’t be the first time I slept through it.” Kent whispered unable to keep the smirk off his face.
“Whatever, you love it, and you know it.” Uriah smiled.
Kent teased Uriah a little more before more seriously saying, “I think tonight you need some punishment for the stunt you pulled.”
“Don’t make promises you won’t keep,” Uriah gently taunted.
“Oh I think you got me worked up enough to keep that promise,” Kent managed to say more sternly than he felt.
“Yeah, well you better take me home right now and punish me for being a bad boy then.” Uriah gave him a grin large enough it looked like it wanted to form its own zip code. Kent couldn’t hold out any longer, he leaned forward and sealed his mouth to Uriah’s. He traced his tongue along Uriah’s full lower lip, as he had tangled both of his hands in Uriah’s hair. He felt Uriah’s tongue sliding over his own as it pushed into his mouth. Uriah’s hold on his hips tightened, and he let Uriah take over. Soon his back was pressed against the wall as Uriah ground their bodies together.
“Hold up a minute! Aren’t you guys going to go see what’s waiting for you upstairs?” Brandon sounded frustrated, “Before you, you know, start going at it right here on the floor in front of us.” He gestured towards Alex. Kent had forgotten the others were there. He couldn’t help but shiver thinking how a clown just watched him getting frisky. His nightmares were going to be so much worse.
“Not tonight, Brandon, the scary moment is kind of over. Plus, we need to get home so I can be punished and learn my lesson that it’s rude to orchestrate an entire night just to scare my loving boyfriend. Is that the right lesson, Kent?” Uriah sounded excited. “Maybe I can come check it out another night, Brandon?”
“We can go check it out now, if you want.” Kent offered, not like he thought he could really keep control with Uriah anyway, let alone “punish” him. He loved the way Uriah took over, but he’d never be able to keep control for very long, and Uriah knew it too.
“Oh no, I was very inconsiderate and need a firm hand to show me the error of my ways and to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Uriah pouted.
“Well, I could have stopped you before we got here and told you I knew about the set up, but instead, I hired someone to help me do the same thing to you that you did to me. I really have no right to be that upset.” He really didn’t want to see the rest of the house, but he knew Uriah did and that he could suffer a while longer to make Uriah happy. Besides, what’s the worse that could happen?
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Kyle Adams
Email: [email protected]
Blog: kyleadams2.blogspot.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/kyle_adams2