Unmasking the Insanity *HOW IT ALL BEGAN PART 2*

PART 2 OF THE BEGINNING

   Johnny answered the front door to find a white-faced clown, staring back at him. The outfit was a one piece maroon garment with its sleeves, and pants, tied at both the wrist and ankles. A red wraparound pleated collar spread around its neck, and to complete the costume; a big bush of red hair sat on top of its head. It stood as still as a statue, with a face like stone; one arm behind its back and the other outstretched offering Johnny a red balloon. Its hollow eyes then shifted onto his mother as she came out from the kitchen and towards the front door. The figure at the doorstep then revealed a revolver from behind his back, which froze both Johnny and his mother to the spot.

   It quickly corralled Johnny and his mother into a corner of the kitchen and pointed his gun at them each in turn as they held each other in a huddle.

   Then came his chilling voice. "Eeny Meeny Miney mo..."

   The gunshot cracked into the air as loud as thunder but without the raw power of a storm. Realising his mother had been shot; Johnny looked on in horror as her mouth opened wide in a silent scream and her unblinking eyes popped like an old fashioned toy doll.

   She quickly clamped her hand over the wound, but no matter the pressure she applied; the blood flowed between her fingers and oozed out from under her hand. It rapidly seeped through her white blouse with sickening determination, as her heart struggled to save her. It was in that moment, that Johnny locked eyes with her and they both knew they were saying goodbye. And in those fractions of seconds, he saw her gravestone: grey, granite and cold. 

   He caught one last glimpse of the killer clown, as it fled from the house, out through the door and disappeared into the darkness of the night. 

    His father came charging down from upstairs and burst into the kitchen like he’d just seen a ghost. But for all his efforts to reach his son and wife in time; they were all in vein. He lowered his head in suspicion of the stillness of the house, and then staggered back at the dark red liquid interrupting the tiled white kitchen floor. The magnitude of despair in his eyes was enormous. He didn't break quietly; it was like every atom of him being screamed in unison, as he cried with more violence than any gale.

   But then with an almighty gasp, Johnny suddenly snapped out from his nightmare; drenched in sweat and found himself awake.

   The bed sheets were in a knot and the salty droplets had soaked through the covers like a spreading map of perspiration. Aside from a few fit-full half hours of sleep, he hadn’t slept a wink. His eyes were now wide open like a tunnel, as if trained on some invisible spectre clinging to the bedroom ceiling.

 

   But this was now a typical example of the constant nightmares that haunted him since that fateful night of Halloween 85. Sometimes, lying in his bed and in the middle of the night, he’d awake to see a dark menacing shadow lurking in the corner of his bedroom. His heart would pound in his ears and he’d try to scream. But when he tried to open his mouth, he wasn’t able to utter a sound. When he looked again, the shadow would be gone.

   Sometimes he would have to get up, put the light on and walk off the pent up energy to calm himself down. But even then he was often too frightened to go back to sleep. Since that day, back in 85 and more often than not, he’d wait until the sun seeped through the curtains, to feel safe enough just to doze off for an hour or two.

   But the nightmares always remained: Real, paralysing and cold.         

   Since the horrific death of his mother, the iconic entertainment figures paralysed him with a fear not visible to the eye but, sharply felt in the heart. Just being in the same vicinity as one of these holy fools would leave him with a sensation that could only be described as a bewilderment of tremulous apprehension.

   Throughout all of October, it was always a troublesome and confusing time which left him on edge.  Anything that lurked in the shadows, under a bridge, or just seemed out of place during this month, always heightened his anxiety. 

   Him and his father now always took pains to stay indoors. Their house would go on lockdown from the outside world and pray no harm would come. They would go to great lengths to make sure the house was dark and devoid of any decorations, in order to keep the trick or treaters away.

    But this year was different.

   This year Johnny faced Halloween home alone. And the fear of being alone struck him like a blow. 

   After what seemed an eternity, but was probably no more than a few seconds, he found himself finally able to move.  He pulled up his duvet and rolled towards the darker side of the room. But, there was no escape from his thoughts, or the dawn ebbing its gradual way into daylight. So he sat up slowly and pulled away the bedsheets, rolled out from his bed, and one by one slowly forced his footsteps towards the bathroom.

   The bathroom gleamed with granite counter tops, walnut framed mirrors, a Jacuzzi tub and a walk-in shower room with an over-sized shower head. He picked his cigarettes up from off the top of wicker laundry basket and gazed out of the window, down towards the old barn. It had seen better days. Twenty years of rain, sleet and baking summers had taken its toll. The roof was worse than a gap-toothed sailor. Its structure was more draughty than a disused railway platform and tiles were either missing, rotten or sticking up at awkward angles. Inside used to be home to some old classic cars. But because of the crash of 08, his father had sold them all off. All that remained now was an engine hoist, a workbench and some discarded tools scattered across its concrete floor.

   But as he gazed out the window, something was wrong…something was terribly wrong.

   Painted in red and on the metal doors of the barn was an arrow pointing downwards. Above the arrow, and also in red were the words ‘look at me.’

    He followed the arrow downwards and placed underneath it on the leaf littered gravel drive was a medium sized white parcel. On it, and also in red letters were the words ‘Open me.’  Beneath those words was a picture of what Johnny feared the most: A perpetual smiling face of a sinister looking clown.    

   On seeing this, there was an immediate and obscure thrill of alarm. His heart thumped ferociously, as he gazed down at the ominous parcel. Fear etched across his face, and his mouth dropped open into a hushed “O”.  A toxin of terror blazed through his veins and burned with such intensity he felt his soul shiver.  

   But in that moment something snapped.

   Like a flick of a switch, a fiery white hot anger ripped through his body and swooped across his face. His eyes grew hot with hate as to who would do such a malicious and despicable thing.

   He bolted out from the bathroom like a bullet from a gun; charged down the stairs like is life depended on it and flung the front door wide open; only to be suddenly met with a sudden downpour of rain.

   But wanting to stop now was like pleading with a speeding bullet. Come hell or high water, nothing was coming between him and the parcel outside the barn doors.

   He ventured out into the downpour and pushed on. Making his way down the side of the house, the wall of rain was so thick, he could barely see a yard. It was bitterly cold and unrelenting as it crashed down on his skin and bone body and he began to shiver like a trembling leaf.

   He turned the corner at the back of the house and the object sitting at the foot of the barn doors was now in sight. The cantankerous wind began to howl like something from a horror movie, picking up the leaves off from the gravel drive and throwing them around like a newspaper in a gale. His long brown hair whipped so violently about his face, he barely saw the parcel at all.    

   His frantic pace had now turned into glacial slow strides as he closed in on the ominous looking parcel.  

   The barn creaked like the trees that surrounded it, as it too strained against the onslaught of rain and the horrendous howling wind.

  The buckling cowl-black clouds began to whip with more violence. Lighting flared and contorted in the riotous sky, just as Johnny reached down to pick up the package which was now down at his feet.

  

  With the package finally in his hands; Johnny’s adrenaline seeped away and indecision began to strike.

   Every muscle suddenly felt tight, even his face felt tight, his mouth ran dry and his stomach turned in an unfriendly way. His mind spun with a carousel of questions; each one more worrying than the last. But he had to shake it off, now wasn’t the time to back out.

   And with that thought, he took the plunge and frantically tore at the white paper and opened up the box inside.

   But what was inside shook him to the core.

   His heart thumped, as he looked back at the objects glassy eyes which were void of emotion as they seemingly stared back at him. The porcelain clown face was old and cracked, with maggots seeping out the mouth. The fading pancake makeup had a bright red smile drawn across its mouth but looked far from happy. Its fluorescent clothing had long faded, and the dingy material was all torn, digested and completely frayed. As he flipped the ghastly doll over, a message was written on the bottom of the box.

That message read: Beware of the clowns Johnny. Tonight, one is heading your way.

   Johnny dropped the clown and its box onto the leaf littered gravel drive and now stood in shock.

Author's Note

ENJOY

Reviews

[Jacob Clifford]

Suspense and anticipation of what's next to come can be the most terrifying part of anything. One thing I like about what I've seen of this book is that it's not just a simple hack and slash type horror story. It's clear there's been quite a bit of planning, and the executions are clever. Slow and meticulous are better than mindless horror in my book.

[A.K. Rohner]

That was...wow, that's...dang man. The vocabulary, the metaphors, the imagery, it really kept me reading. I just am at a loss for words, honestly. Jeez, keep up the good work, I want to see what happens to Johnny.

[Sinbulvinter]

Like I said when you sent this to me, The "Eeny Meenie Miney Mo" gave me Walking dead flashbacks again! Lol

I love Ray as a clown and using childhood fear to further confuse and scare Johnny. Ray has such awesome lines and a really interesting mindset - You kinda have to cheer for him!

Your work is always so good and well planned, it always feels real. I love it!
Again, this needs to become a movie! I'd watch the hell out of it!

[Rebecca Church]

This is good~~. It's interesting to learn more of Johnny's past. I for one have never really been afraid of clowns, but I know the trope of them being a scary figure. And now them being a murderer?? That is just bone chilling, someone whose job it was to bring laughter, bringing tears and pain.
I can't wait for more. You're a grand writer : D

Becca

[Joey Nizz]

Hmm I wonder what will happen next..

This is one interesting chapter Mark, I hate clowns but don't get me wrong this chapter was great, I feel sorry for johnny for going through all of this.

This is well written and so engaging.

Thanks for sharing mark.