Creeping Out The Clowns

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
It seemed like such a good idea........

Submitted: October 16, 2016

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Submitted: October 16, 2016

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Creeping Out The Clowns.

Owen, Baz, Marty and Jake – they’d been ‘The Boys’ at school. The ones you wouldn’t mess with, the ones you hoped would not notice you. If they noticed you they’d pick on you, make your life a misery until they found another more worthy victim for their attentions.

Yes, these had been the school bullies of their day; from their first year where their victims had been restricted to being from the same year, right through to sixth year where they could pick from pretty much the whole school.

 

Now, at twenty years of age, they were no longer involved in the education system. Owen’s dad ran his own business, a reasonably successful one, and had found jobs for all four of them. Not that they were really interested in working for a living; they missed almost as many days as they worked, although their turning up was no guarantee that they would ‘work’ at all either. If they had been anyone else they’d have found themselves without employment a long time ago. But they had money, they had time, and they really had not changed that much at all.

 

It was Baz who had the idea. He had seen the videos on YouTube, those with the people dressed up as clowns going out to bully and intimidate the public. He’d got the three others round to watch, and afterwards the four of them were raring to go. It was just too good an opportunity for them to ignore. So, they wouldn’t be the first – but they would be the first around their neighbourhood, and that was good enough for them. Their eyes were glowing with excitement and they were all itching to get out there.

 

So how are we going to get geared up? Clown costumes are just not a part of my wardrobe?” Marty swigged his beer, and looked from one of his mates to the others.

 

No problem, Marty. Leah’s working at the fancy-dress place now. She’ll get us sorted on the cheap.” Owen’s sister did not have anything to do with the family business, preferring to at least have some break from those she had to share her home with. “I’ll ask her tonight, and we might just be set to go before the weekend.”

 

And Leah did not let them down. Not only did she sort out the costumes, but also the wigs and the masks.

 

Masks?” Owen had quizzed her when she’d handed them to him.

 

Well, you could go with the make-up and do it properly but we don’t stock that so you’d have to sort it out yourself.” Leah had been trying to help and wasn’t in the mood for criticism.

 

Make-up? No, no.....thanks, Leah, the masks are fine.” There was no way on earth that Owen and his mates would stoop to wearing make-up.

 

Just try to keep the costumes in one piece so I can put them back when you finish with them. No rush, Madge, is away for a while but be careful.”

 

Jake and Marty eyed the costumes warily. They looked kind of silly laid out in front of them like that, almost childish. The four of them were all reluctant to put those....suits on. For all their bravado, they were really self-conscious; none of them fancied finding themselves being laughed at – even by their own mates.

 

Baz, come on. You try first. It was your idea after all.” Marty pushed his mate forward.

 

Fine. At least I’ll get first choice.” Baz looked at the costumes, picked the most outrageous one then disappeared to try it on for size.

 

When he re-entered the room, Jake stifled his laughter until Baz gave a really creepy sounding chuckle and started to dance around the room in a threatening way, just as the clowns on the video had done.

 

Hey, that’s really quite effective! Come on, let’s get kitted up. It’s almost dark and there’s no time like the present to give it a go.” Owen couldn’t quite hide just how impressed he’d been.

 

They didn’t go out for long; the rain had brought things to an early halt. Nobody was going to be scared by a drenched and dripping clown. There had been time for results though; a back-pack that had been dropped as a kid had fled, a hand-bag, a wallet, and a shopping bag that seemed to contain nothing but fruit.

 

This can go to Leah,” Owen said, putting the shopping bag to one side. “She’s always eating this stuff. We’ll check out the rest and split it four ways. Okay?”

 

Marty, Baz and Jake nodded, laughing and pushing each other around. They were still hyped up from their success. And it had been so easy. It had taken no effort at all, just the sight of them seemed to be enough to instil fear in some people. No one knew who they were so they could really go to town and play the part. All these people were just so scared by the freaky clowns.

 

£25 each and a load of junk. Not bad for half an hours fun, eh.” Owen handed out the cash and put the rest of the stuff into a bin bag. “Dump this somewhere on your way home, Jake, would ya! Chuck it in the river if you like. Just make sure no one’s watching when you do.”

 

So are we on for tomorrow then, Owen?” Marty asked.

 

Sure, if it’s dry. Friday night so they’ll be more people around.”

 

More people, more clowning,” laughed Baz.

 

They held back a bit, not wanting to be out on the streets too early. When they started to drift out of the pubs and the clubs, when they were at least slightly intoxicated, Owen figured that would be the best time to carry out the crazy clown confrontations. This time, now they knew what they were doing, they’d split up a bit. Four different roads, four different chances – so long as they didn’t pick the same targets.

 

Owen stood there in the shadows, waiting. There was a streetlight, just down from where he was standing. He’d planned it all out. As soon as a target appeared he’d take up position, make it so just his clown’s crazy face appeared initially, then he’d jump out in all his glory to dance and clown around in what he hoped would be an intimidating way. If he picked the right victim he’d be rewarded by screams, by panic. It would be just like it was in school only so much better.

 

So far this night had proved to be disappointing. There’d been a couple of guys, one so drunk, Owen doubted he’d even been able to focus on him let alone recognize him for what he was. His companion was a bit steadier on his feet, less inebriated, and a bit more mouthy – clearly not concerned by the strange and unexplained appearance of a clown outside his local.

 

The girls had been a bit more fun. Three of them, arm-in-arm, laughing at some sort of joke had run off tripping and screaming when he had jumped out of the shadows to land in front of them. They weren’t even carrying bags, let alone dropping them, but the effect of his appearance was kind of rewarding in itself.

 

It wasn’t the same though, hanging out by himself. They should have paired up. The waiting around would have been way more fun if there was someone else to share the time with. As it was, it was starting to become a bit boring. And cold, too. These clown suits might be okay for the indoor parties but they didn’t offer much protection from the October night chill. Next time out, Owen decided, they would double up. And he’d make sure that he was wearing something a bit warmer underneath.

 

Strange though, Owen was sure that there was a movement a bit further down the road. Looking more carefully he could see nothing, but it was even darker down there with no lights. No, nothing; not a single movement. It must have been a moth, just at the edge of his vision. He told himself to forget it, to go back to watching for potential prey.

 

Owen looked down the road, but kept finding himself wanting to glance back. He had this feeling of unease, this sense of being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

There! He saw something. One of the others must be trying to creep up on him. Perhaps they’d got bored hanging out on their own too. It definitely looked like a clown suit but not one that he recognised.

 

Baz!” he whispered. “Marty? Jake?”

 

No answer. But he could hear something, quiet chuckling! And footsteps getting nearer. And there! Definitely a shape but who the hell is it, he couldn’t quite make it out.

 

Owen almost screams when that figure leaps out at him, bending to look into his eyes, leering and jeering. Not Jake, Marty, or Baz; that’s for sure. Owen stands there, still, as the clown dances around, pointing, poking, shepherding him along. He fights back what, for him, is a strange desire to run, to flee. He wants to argue, to tell this joker just where to go, but there is something strange about him. Something wrong! This one just does not seem to be acting a part at all. It’s as though this guy is the genuine article, the real creepy clown!

 

Down the alleyway he is being led, pushed, forced. And what is that on the ground in the distance. It looks like a leg stretched out across the pavement. A clown-striped leg with what looks like Marty’s shoe on it’s foot. And there, there’s an arm, an elbow just visible.

Again with clown stripes!

 

The figure behind him is laughing now, hysterically, crazily. He pushes Owen in the middle of his back to make him stumble nearer to the figures laying on the ground. As he struggles to keep on his feet, Owen sees a wigged head. It is Baz; Owen can tell because that wig has slipped to show brown tufts of hair. His eyes are open but Baz is not seeing anything now.

 

Owen prepares to bolt, to make a run for it. To hell with pride when his life is at threat. But this crazy, creepy clown is everywhere, in all directions. Owen just can’t make it past him. And where the hell did that baseball bat come from! Should he beg? Should he plead for forgiveness? Too late for that now, Owen realises as the scream makes its way momentarily into the air before that swing of the bat cuts it short.

 

 


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