Sooner or later the target will make the wrong move and expose himself.
Johnson had a marker in his hand and the clown shoved him up against the window. A moment passed and then he started writing a large backward B on the window.
“What the…” The sniper asked himself confused.
The sniper kept looking at the window as Johnson wrote two O’s followed by an M. It spelled out the word Boom.
Through the scope the sniper noticed that the shooter held out his hand from behind Johnson. He had something in his hand. It was only then that the sniper heard the ominous ticking beneath the rim of the roof a few feet away and before he could jump up, there was an explosion that sent bits of roof and parts of the sniper disbursing in all directions.
The end
The clown and Johnson stood at the window and watched as the dust of the explosion settled on the rooftop across the street. Johnson’s shivering hand dropped the marker in disbelief at what he just witnessed. A bomb on the roof of a building across the street from his office meant that this madman must’ve planned his assault down to the last detail – leaving nothing to chance… not even the possibility of snipers. This wasn’t a spur of the moment thing. He wanted revenge and made sure he covered every possible angle.
Johnson knew his end had come. He would be next and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. All his work to build an empire of dirt was for nothing. He had no family who’d even mourn over him.
The clown tossed John across the room and he fell against the wall; dislocating his shoulder which he clenched in pain as he sat upright and stared in horror as the clown walked over to him. This was it – this was the end. He’d meet his maker and it wasn’t even on his own terms. He just had to accept his fate and the fact that he had no control over what happened next.
“Fine.” John insisted. “Go ahead. Kill me. It won’t change the fact that you were bad at your job. It won’t change the fact that you’re insane and need help.”
The clown didn’t respond. He simply stepped closer to John with the shotgun dangling next to his right leg.
“If I could, I’d fire you all over again.” Johnson insisted.
It was inevitable. The shooter was going to kill him so he might just as well say his last words no matter how harsh and poisoned they tasted in his mouth.
“You’re a sick individual.” Johnson said, “You killed innocent people today. I hope you rot in hell.”
The clown cocked his shotgun, aimed at Johnson’s left knee and squeezed the trigger. The shot amputated John’s leg at the knee and he screamed in pain as clenched the bloody stump.
The clown lifted the shotgun, reached into his pocket for more bullets and reloaded the shotgun before raising it at John’s pale face that was draining of colour due to the loss of blood.
“Go ahead.” John snivelled in between gasps for air and cries of pain, “Do it, you coward!”
The clown shoved the muzzle of the shotgun into John’s mouth; chipping away three of his front teeth. He revelled in the sound of Johnson gurgling blood for a moment before he squeezed the trigger and the shot went off. John’s jaw shattered at the right hinge; severing his neck at the spine and the decapitated body fell to the floor as the clown shook the maimed head off the muzzle.
The sounds were too much for Bonnie, but she kept her mouth covered with her hands – trying not to scream as she stayed hidden beneath the desk. Though she didn’t see the kill shot, she knew her boss was dead and she might be next, so she started praying to God to save her from the madman.
The clown stared at the John’s bloody corpse that lay in a pile of marred flesh and blood against the wall and a sense of accomplishment and fulfilment came over him. He had finally killed the man that destroyed his sanity. The winged creatures in the night assured him that everything will be alright once he killed everyone that made his life hell at work. He could rest now... He had sent every last demon back to hell.
Though almost inaudible, the voice of the news anchor on TV made him turn around. The news channel was showing footage of the building, the police in the street and aerial footage of the area. He walked over to the desk, picked up the remote control and turned up the volume and, unbeknownst to him, his lingering presence made Bonnie whimper as she hid.
“If you’re just joining us,” The news anchor announced, “An explosion on a rooftop across the street from the building just took the life of a sniper. Moments ago Alex Smith lost his life while trying to take out the crazed gunman that went on a shooting rampage. The reports so far have put the death toll of today’s shooting at thirty nine. It seems there are no—“
The news anchor stopped talking as insert footage from a low-flying helicopter showed two people rushing out of the stairwell onto the rooftop of the Johnson Inc. building.
“Wait” The news anchor announced.
It was Alice and Eric that stumbled out onto the roof and they were waving their arms at the news helicopter that hovered high above them; hoping to be seen and rescued.
“It seems we have two survivors.” The news anchor said, “This is a miracle!”
To the clown it was a failure. He couldn’t let the two of them get away. He had to kill everyone or he would’ve failed. He grasped his shotgun until his knuckles turned white and left the office. He walked through the lobby and shoved the debris that still blocked the doorway.
The clown made his way up the stairs; taking two stairs at a time. He had to get to them before they were rescued. They had to die. He only had one flight of stairs to go before he got to the roof that already came into sight.
He got to the door and swung it open and as he did, Eric and Alice stopped waving their arms and spun around in horror as the clown emerged from the shadows of the stairwell with the threatening shotgun.
They had nowhere to run to. Eric glanced over the edge of the roof – they were too high up to jump so he glanced back in the direction of the crazed clown who approached them with swift, menacing strides.
Eric stood frozen in the spot and watched as the clown took one final step forward and raised the shotgun. Eric was completely nauseated from fear as he stared into the asserting muzzle of the shotgun a few feet from his face. He felt a faint rush of air pass his ear and then saw a tiny red, hole form on the forehead of the clown.
The clown stood motionless for a moment and then dropped the shotgun as a little bit of blood flowed from the tiny hole in his forehead and then the clown fell to his knees. Alice and Eric watched in terror and confusion as the clown collapsed onto his side. He was dead. Eric glanced all around them and spotted another sniper on a rooftop behind them who radioed something in to his commander and then waved at Eric and Alice; motioning that they were safe. It was over.
“We made it.” Eric started crying with relief.
He stared at Alice with tears in his eyes.
“We made it.” He said again; trying to convince himself.
He still couldn’t believe the words that came out his mouth. The nightmare was finally over and he let out a sigh of relief and trembled as the air left his lungs. They made it…
“We made it.” He couldn’t stop crying and smiling.
Alice stared at him and smiled back at him. She felt liberated, but still shaken by the ordeal of the day as she glanced over at the lifeless body of the clown. The madman was no more.
The news helicopter circled the rooftop to get exclusive footage of the survivors and the gunman that was taken out. It would make for great TV. People were starved for real drama in a world filled with fake reality shows.
Alice kept staring at the corpse of the clown. They won. He didn’t succeed in killing them. Her pupils narrowed and then widened again – blinking as a second set of eyelids.
THE END
ABOUT THIS STORY
I was listening to the American Recordings by Johnny Cash and the song ‘God’s Gonna Cut You Down’ had a haunting and ominous ring to it as the guitars sounded like the footsteps of a m
adman closing in on his victims and I thought to myself; this song would actually make a terrifying soundtrack for a movie about a crazed gunman killing people.
While writing the story, I probably listened to that specific song about fifty times – if not more and it definitely helped set the mood for this story.
Clowns have always had a disturbing stance in our minds ever since Stephen King’s IT and I thought it would make for the ultimate villain as most people associate the face of the clown with the face of the devil.
This was also my first venture into hard-core horror and due to positive feedback about this story I decided to write an equally unnerving story, “Snapped”, about a woman setting out for revenge after being raped and left for dead.
In 2016 I started on a project to revisit, re-edit and revise some of my earlier works like this one and “Snapped” is next on my list to receive more attention to detail – especially the gory parts.
As always, if you liked this story, please leave a review on the site from which you downloaded it as reviews are like applause to writers and highly appreciated.
-Eduard
God's Gonna Cut You Down Page 11