Clown.

When I first started this blog it was with the intention of showcasing not only my work, but also the work of other authors. It is with pride that I present this story written by my son Sebastian Gabriel Titus Bishop. I really enjoyed this story and insisted he put it on Neon Rabbit.

Please read and enjoy.

The body of a woman lay upon the ground, her blood soaked victorian dress draped loosely over unnaturally contorted limbs. Her head completely degloved of its flesh, crisp white bone could be seen peeking through the crimson liquor.

A clown skips away from the scene, a gleeful smile creeping from ear to ear; he picks at the blood and hair lodged beneath his fingernails. He walks through the carnival grounds, an elegant hat sitting upon his head, tipped forwards slightly, concealing a painted face. His left hand drags a large sack behind him, leaving a trail of blood. He frolics, whistling a joyful tune, his glistening teeth shining through the shadow that obscures his face.

Frightened onlookers watch him as he conducts an inaudible symphony using a scalpel lacquered with blood. A crowd of people stare towards him, their faces petrified. The clown’s skipping slowly comes to a halt. His eyes scan the crowd as men and women avert his gaze. Yet eye contact still occurred. A young boy, frozen still, stared directly into his core as only a child is able to. The clown’s face lights up. Elated, he walked towards the child. A terrified mother holds the boy against her chest. The clown drops to one knee.

“I have a g-gift for you little boy,” he whispered ecstatically. The mother still watched the clown in horror. However, the child regarded the clown with something like curiosity. The clown’s hand reached into the bloodied sack. The boy’s eyes widened,

“What is it?” he whispered, asking politely. “Is it candy?”

“Something better,” his hand reemerged from the sack, holding what looked like a rubber mask. He handed it to the child slowly. The boy then held the mask gently.

“Wow!” He held the face up to his own, looking through the eye holes. “This is such a cool mask!” The clown simply smiled,

“Something like that,” He stood up again, making eye contact with the mother. He extended his scalpel bearing hand, dragging the tip gently down her cheek. Her eyes somehow seemed to widen further, pursed lips suppressing a scream. Muscles in his face begin pulling the corners of his mouth across both sides of his head, producing an inhuman gash of a smile. He proceeds to cut downwards, leaving a bloody slit behind as a keepsake.

Walking away slowly, he flourises his blade, then wiping it across his tongue. He turned around and curtseyed, then proceeded to throw his elegantly adorned hat into the horrified, shivering crowd.

Whistling a gleeful melody, he capered, taking long energetic strides, practically bounding towards his small trailer. Before disappearing into the dark box, he turned around and winked towards the crowd, then disappearing.

Suddenly, the crowd erupted into a stupendous roar, applause and cheering ringing all throughout the carnival grounds. A deep, growling voice then played through speakers spread throughout the grounds,

“Wonderful! A wonderful show! Bravo!” Everyone was silent, waiting for the next announcement, “Can we have a big round of applause for our dear Mister Giggles please!?” Applause could be heard once again, like a stampede of bulls. “Just, wonderful! And only twenty-five people had to die”  He put an emphasis on the twenty-five, almost as if he were satisfied by the number, “Thank you all for coming!” Applause again, “I do hope we’ll see each other very soon! Have a wonderful night!”

 

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