Viewers Discretion is Advised; This story contains brutal and unnecessary forces against humans. Proceed with caution.
“Wakey, Wakey ma’am.” He’d whisper in the poor old ladies, droopy ears. A smile appeared on his face as he, kept his hands behind his back. Was he hiding something? She couldn’t tell by the time she opened her eyes and glanced a look at me.
“Look who decided to wake up, miss…” He’d flip through a notebook titled “Victims”. He’d remove his eyes off the pages with a grin. “Miss White. Age; 78. Reason for arrival; Trespassing on our territory. Check, check.” He’d grab his blue pen, making what seemed to be a check mark in his notebook. “Okay let’s get down to business Miss White. I’m Lee. A certain… ‘Business’ man. Just trying to do my job. So if you would, sit up. That would be much appreciated.” He’d say in a kind gentle voice. And Miss White obeyed. Sitting up, as far as the bindings holding her arms and legs would let her. “Great! We are off to a great start.” He’d mess with his black business suit a smidge for better fitting on his skinny but muscular body. “Now, I’m going to conduct a quick test. Is that okay?” He’d ask, getting slightly closer. “Y-Ya…” She said stuttering before a gulp of fear. “Now open you mouth and say ‘Ahhhh'” He’d bring one arm from behind his back, his hand covered with a plastic glove. Durable for sure. And once more, Miss White obeyed, and opened ger mouth. Lee, just as the moment arrived swing his other arm from behind his back, and barely missed her throat. But she wasn’t able to talk. But how? Lee held a short blade from his hand, which happened to hit directly on the poor ladies vocal cords. She was speechless, literally. Seconds later, Miss White bled out on the scene, strapped to a bed with leather bindings. And Lee was nowhere to be seen…
“Hey kids! Would you like a free balloon? No latex involved.” The poorly acting clown said, supposedly speaking towards a group of small children, talking about Pokèmon cards or something. “No thanks sir, we are fine.” But as always, there was one kid who walks right into the biggest trap ever. “I’ll take one please.” The clown would stare at him, a small one with blonde hair and freckles. His friends moves to the side, giving him a walkway, asking what he was thinking. “Wise choice, kiddo. Follow me and we can pick one up!” The clown skipped alone behind a trailer, waiting for the boy. The boy followed in excitement. “How old you, kiddo?” He asked, kneeling down to his size. “6” The boy said. “And what’s your name, son?” He’d say, starting to stand up. “Andrew.” The boy responded, “Well Andrew, come inside this trailer and you can pick out what color bloon you want.” He’d walk into the trailer, Andrew following close behind. And like all killing scenes, the clown pulls out a .40 mm pistol from his big striped pants. “I’m sorry Andrew…” He’d take aim at the doomed boy’s head. “Wait! Don’t…” A loud bang echoed throughout the trailer, then silence. The boy was killed, but something else was found at the scene of the crime. A dead clown in the trailer’s bathroom. A bullet hole through the head. The same, way poor Andrew was killed…
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