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slasher-catcher · 2 years

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Spider Rings - Ch.1

Art the Clown x Reader

(Originally posted on AO3 by Frothy-Frowns -- relax, that’s my NotSFW username, I’m not ripping someone else’s work, lol)

Summary: In cute, playful banter, you accidentally marry a strange monochromatic clown with cold eyes. Congrats! Best of luck to you on your honeymoon~

First chapter is SFW. The next one is NSFW and has two versions for either genitalia, depending on the reader’s preference. Absolutely NO minors, please.

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18 Pages/ 8,561 Words ... so, uh, a pretty lengthy read.

Warnings: ... none in this chapter really, other than Art being Art. So like.. mild stalking? General creepy vibes? Some good ol’ fluff. Accidental marriage. Maybe hinted unhealthy obsession. Swearing. This closely follows the beginning of Terrifier.

I completely threw away the whole bathroom scene because that man will NOT be getting any ass if he’s been rolling around like a dung beetle. We have SOME standards, damn. (Reader’s description isn’t enclosed, but I sorta wrote this with them being plus sized in mind, so do with that information what you will. Also Reader uses they/them pronouns.)

“I think I just twisted my ankle!”

“Dawn, really?” Tara laughed in exasperation, propping the stumbling scarecrow girl up on her left, tucking her shoulder underneath her arm for support. Reader took to her right, snickering along with their drunken giggling. The little group had just left a rather rowdy Halloween party just down the street, slowly making their way towards Dawn’s car parked to the curb, a ways further than the line of cars of the fellow partygoers.

The outing sure was… something, as far as Reader could say. Parties weren’t particularly their scene, but Dawn was pretty persistent when she wanted to be (which was often, unfortunately), and Tara may or may not have bribed them with the promise of Halloween treats that were sure to be there. Reader could still taste the sweet icing of the orange and black cupcakes on their tongue. The sugary confection was certainly more welcoming than the aftertaste of a poorly made candy corn jell-o shot, anyhow.

The feverish night seemed to slowly simmer down to a chilly crawl the further the trio walked into the night, their chatter and clicking steps being the only sound in the hushed dark. Streetlights overhead lit the stretch of asphalt, concrete and their hair a mix of blinding white and cold orange, making their wriggling shadows seem a lot taller than what they really were. “Maybe ya wouldn’t have twisted it if you hadn’t gotten on top of that table,” Reader sighed, shaking their head and readjusting Dawn’s weight on their side. Dawn only shrugged her shoulders in dismissal, blonde hair bouncing with the movement. “And dance with clearance-isle Gru and his cluster-fuck of minions on the floor?? Hard pass, babe.”

Tara groaned in mock irritation, rolling her eyes.The print of her ribcage-designed top flashed a smidge in the cool lights every time she twisted a certain way. “Thanks a lot, by the way.”

“For what?” Dawn laughed.

“For promising you weren’t gonna get shit faced tonight.”

The girl pulled an innocent face that neither Reader nor Tara believed. “Guys kept buying me drinks. I can’t help it if people find me interesting!” “Yeah, it was definitely your mind that they were after,” Reader snarked sarcastically, earning them a swift pinch on their shoulder before Dawn fully pulled her arm off of them, retrieving her phone from her patchwork pockets. Tara easily caught sight of the cell phone’s glow and twisted her head, trying to sneak a better peek. “Who’re you texting?” Dawn raised her nose high into the air and tucked the screen against her shoulder, hiding it away from her prying eyes. “None of your business!”

Reader’s eyebrow raised as Tara pulled away from under Dawn’s arm, leaving her to fully walk without both of their support. “You gave that asshole your number, didn’t you?” Tara asked accusingly, nearly scoffing in disbelief. In hindsight, she really shouldn’t be so surprised. This was Dawn they were talking about. The girl has zero restraint for most everything that comes her way.

Dawn wagged a finger in her face back and forth mockingly. “Oh my god, you’re SO jealous.”

“Of what? That kid was talking to like, five other girls!”

Reader rolled their eyes and gave their head another shake. They could hardly believe that anyone would want to give their number to the meatheaded viking guy that kept purposely spilling his sticky, watered down witches brew punch on nearly all the girls at the party for a chance to chat, but Dawn was just a different breed, they reckoned. It wasn’t too long until they finally reached their designated curb, slowing down their pace when the car came into view.

“Oh, stop being such a bitch, just get in the car.” Dawn scooted past the both of them to round the vehicle, only to be stopped mid stride by Tara taking hold of her wrist. “Oh, you are not driving.”

Dawn dangled her car keys in her hand, letting them clink and clack, as if the gesture alone proved her sobriety. “I’m fine.” Tara wasn’t having any of it. The girl herself had thrown back the odd drink or three too, but at least she could walk a decently straight line without any assistance. Well… not much, anyway. Although, those Jekyll & Gins were beginning to talk back to her.

Nevertheless, she held her hand out to Dawn expectantly. “Give me the keys,” she demanded.

Reader nudged past them to lean against the side of the car, arms folded across their chest as they watched the two throw a minor fight over the keys, patiently waiting for them to finish. The ends of their long, billowy black sleeves fluttered from the chilly breeze that flew past. Their fingers tippy-tapped against their arms, tongue idly prodding at the little extensions they stuck onto their canines. In all honesty they were pretty impressed that the fangs had stayed intact all throughout the night – they were certain when they were sticking them on that they would pop right off in the middle of the party. Hooray for little victories! While the little group hovered around the car, across the way were a man dressed from head to toe in a clown costume, trudging along. The steps he took in his rather large black shoes padded louder the closer he walked towards them. The black trash bag that was slung over his back crinkled when his gloved grip tightened around it. After what felt like an hour – but what was definitely only a few heavy seconds – Dawn finally caved, letting Tara take the keys from her hand and slumping back into the cool metal of the car. Reader frowned in disapproval, arms crossing a little tighter against their chest when Tara gave a little stumble of her own. “Really don’t think that’s such a good idea either, girly. You smell pretty flammable yourself.” “Then why don't you drive us, Reader?” Dawn released a long, drawn out groan, beginning to lean her weight more and more on the hood of her car. It seemed like all those poison apple martinis were finally dragging her down into a full stupor. Oh boy. They sighed and scratched awkwardly at the back of their neck, fingers catching on the black lace, jeweled choker wrapped snugly around it. They sure did hope they didn’t accidentally rub off the two little fang bite marks they dotted right above it with red marker. “You already know I can’t drive. Besides, my place is nearby. Can’t very well drive you home and make it back, D.”

The blonde scarecrow only gave an unintelligible drunken grumble under her breath at that.

Tara groaned and stuffed the keys into her pocket. “Yeah you’re right, Reads. I’m fucking lit. But if I get something to eat, I can drive us, okay?”

Footsteps stopped more than a few meters away from the trio, crunching leaves silencing. The clown paused when their squabbling finally reached his ears, snapping him out of the set daze he had been in. With a frown he watched them from the shadows, as silent as the night around them. Pitch black eyes studied the three persons closely, as if memorizing their images for later.

“Did you say food?? Is there even a place that’s open late?” Dawn sat up a little from her perch on the hood, a light cringe stretched across her face. Reader nodded, sticking their thumb out and pointing it in one direction. “Well there’s a pizza place just ‘round here. Could give that a go, yeah? I can stay with you guys a tick longer until you get your bearings.”

Tara gave a short nod at the suggestion. “Yeah, that’ll work fine. Come on D, let’s-”

“Okayokayokay. Just give me… one minute.” Dawn mumbled, holding up a hand as her eyes fell closed. Reader hummed with a little concern, biting their lip until just a little fang poked out over their black painted lips. As aggravating and nerve-wracking as Dawn could be, they certainly didn’t take much pleasure in seeing her aching like this. “Fuck me,” Tara groaned, throwing her head back in annoyance, black hair spilling across her face. “Like, one minute, for real.” Dawn pleaded softly before falling silent, needing a moment.

The skeleton gave a sigh, shifting her weight until she stood comfortable enough to wait ‘one minute’ out. Her eyes began wandering around to take in the not-so-interesting scenery before they caught sight of someone in the shadows. Her brows furrowed as she stared at the tall, thin clown standing stock still, a rotten toothed grin stretched across his face and accented with heavy black grease paint as he stared right back at her. A chill shot down her spine.

“Take all the time you need, it’s okay.” Reader pulled their cross body bag a little closer, digging into it until they retrieved an unopened bottle of water and of ibuprofen, handing both it and the pills over to Dawn. The scarecrow didn’t hesitate to toss the medicine into her mouth and wash it down with heavy gulps of water, nodding a silent thank you towards them.

The vampire raised an eyebrow, snorting in amusement. “Y’know, I could have just handed you a couple of fentanyl and you took them without even looking at them. For shame, Dawn. For shame.” The water bottle crunched loudly as Dawn drained it empty, gasping when she finally pulled it away from her lips. “At this point I’m willing to suck twelve dicks if it meant my head would stop spinning.” Reader choked, barking out a surprised laugh. “Jesus christ you’re a hazard to society! Your mother must be proud.”

Dawn grinned, tossing the plastic bottle into her car carelessly. “Who do ya think taught me, Reads?”

And just like that, Reader’s laugh turned into a thread of strained wheezes, leaving them to clutch their stomach.

Neither friend noticed Tara’s stiff stance as she continued to lock eyes with the clown nervously. Her shoulders fully tensed up when the clown’s dark eyes released their grip onto Tara and darted swiftly over to land on Reader as soon as they began laughing at whatever they and Dawn were talking about.. A bead of sweat began to form on her brow from her rising anxiety. Just what was this guy's damage? “.. D. D, Reads, look.”

Prompted by her urgent hissing, they both turned their heads towards where she was staring.

“Holy. Shit.” Dawn began laughing at the stranger in the shadows. Reader blinked, taken quite aback when their gaze fell onto the man in the shadows of the buildings, who already had such a piercing stare settled onto them. Not a shred of light seemed to reflect in his gaze.

Did.. did he recognize them from somewhere?? He couldn’t have been at the party they just left, he was coming from the wrong direction. That, and Reader was pretty sure that they’d remember a unique face like his. The sharp, protruded cheekbones with an equally sharp chin that jutted out, a large hooked nose with a little black dot on the tip and heavy makeup lined around his eyes and mouth sure did stand out, even in the dark. They could tell that he certainly put a lot of work into his costume, and it definitely showed.

They raised a hand and gave a polite little wave, their sleeve swaying with the movement. “Uh, hey there! Lovely night, isn’t it?”

“Reader!!” Tara hissed and grabbed their waving wrist, tugging them back and making them give a little squeak in surprise. “That is not funny. I’m about to scream.”

Reader turned to look at Tara, face twisted in confusion as they rubbed at their wrist. “I.. I wasn’t jok-”

“Heeeey, handsome!!” Dawn called out, waving widely to him, laughing loudly. “My friend wants your number!” “Dawn, cut it out,” Tara grimaced, looking back and forth between her heckling friend and the menacing stranger. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

Dawn disregarded her friend’s demand, always looking for a way to further stir the pot of trouble. “Come buy us dinner!!”

As the two quarreled, never did the clown’s piercing stare leave their vampire-dressed friend. A little trickle of worry began filling Reader when they realized that he never blinked once. Their hands slowly closed into one another, twisting with concern. Aw man, was he needing something? He seemed so unnaturally still. They took a short step towards him, tilting their head to the side. “Hey, um.. do you need help with something? Is it … your bag? I could help carr-” “Oh my god you guys, stop!” Tara’s breath got momentarily caught in her throat when Reader took a step closer towards that.. thing. Her hand shot out to once again grapple their friend and yank them closer, keeping her hand around their wrist. “Just shut the fuck up.” Their eyebrow twitched in annoyance with their friend, yanking their wrist out of her grip with a silent huff. Heaven forbid they manage to get one word in without her interrupting. “T, please. I was just saying hello. That’s not a crime.” “Maybe he’ll drive us home,” Dawn snarked at Tara, swiping the keys from her to dangle in front of her face.

“Seriously you guys, I wanna leave. Now.” Tara deliberately looked away from the stranger, not being able to handle those ice cold eyes peering at them from the dark. Of a clown, of all things, a fucking clown. They gained some weird creeping Peeping Tom and he just HAD to be a clown.

Reader pinched their brow in frustration before calling out to the lingering clown once again. “I’m sorry for my friends, sir, we…” When they had glanced back towards where he had been located, the shadows were bare. Their face creased with confusion and gave the whole street a quick look around, frowning lightly. “... where did he go??”

At their ominous words, Tara whipped back and glanced around as they had, feeling her anxiety increase tenfold. A sticky ball of dread began growing inside Tara’s belly, forcing her to nudge Dawn awake from her slouched, lethargic fog. “Let’s go. Come on, let’s just go.” She tugged her off the car’s hood, pulling her along. Reader trudged along right behind them, arms beginning to hug around their center. The encounter succeeded in throwing them off their kilter a bit. The guy hadn’t even said a word and the girls had treated him so awkwardly. Oh, they could already tell that this will eat away at them for at least the next few nights.

●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・●

The large, brightly glowing sign that read PIZZA, WINES & LIQUOR buzzed over the pizza shop with a hum. Inside the shop, rock music accompanied both Tara and Reader as they sat together in one of the few booths provided in the small closure. Reader lightly swung their feet, keeping themself occupied by sipping on the drinks that were provided and carefully folding the napkins they plucked out of the table's dispenser. They hummed along with the overhead guitar solo as they slowly created a little origami creature.

Tara leaned against the pale bricked wall of the inner booth, thumb sliding across her screen every couple of seconds. She was going through the reel of selfies that were taken at the party, many of the three friends laughing along and having fun.

"Oh yeah? You dressed up?" At the main counter, the owner stood with a telephone pressed to the side of his face, rapping his knuckles against the counter as he spoke. "Oh, you sick fuck… where am I gonna go, back to my wife?" He replied as if whatever notion the person on the receiver had said was incredulous.

Tara’s eyes pulled away from her screen and glanced over her shoulder at the pizza man, unimpressed with the one sided conversation. Out of curiosity she looked back at Reader to see if they too were listening in, but they seemed to be completely into their own little world.

The man's chatter went on and Tara decided to sink herself back into the photo reel, until a brightly flashing red battery icon took over the screen, before it completely turned black. Her tired face reflected back at her. "Great."

Almost as if summoned by the dying battery, Dawn’s heels clacked loudly on the tiled floor as she made her way back from the bathrooms, the toilet still running loudly in her wake. The restaurant phone began to ring once again in the background as she slid into the empty side of the booth, groaning in relief.

"That was the longest piss I have ever taken."

Tara placed her phone back into her pocket, sarcasm dripping off her reply. "Thank you for sharing that."

Reader snickered under their breath, fangs poking out from their lip as a smile tugged on the corners of their mouth. "Charming as always, D."

Dawn made a face at them before pulling her own phone out, scrolling through her notifications. "This guy wants me to meet him at his apartment right now."

"What a shocker," Tara replied easily, taking a peek across the table at her phone, as if to read the message herself.

Reader glanced up from their napkin, giving Dawn a raised eyebrow before returning to their folding and creasing. "Are you gonna do it?"

The scarecrow shrugged, a mischievous smirk pulling at her lips. "I told him I would."

That made Tara’s eyes snap back to their friend. "What??"

Dawn pulled up from her phone with a roll of her eyes. Jesus, sometimes Tara’s nagging really grinded on her nerves. “I’m kidding. I have a little more self respect than that.”

“If only you had a brain.” The skeleton replied, side eyeing their friend with a smirk, folding her thin arms and propping them on the table. Dawn sent a snarky face at her in response. “I’ve been wanting to use that one all night.”

“Congratulations,” she sneered saucily before tucking back into her phone screen. Just as the word had left her mouth, the door of the shop was tugged open with a clatter, doorbell tolling with a ding of the new arrival. The monochromatic clown that they had unofficially met in the street pulled his way through the door, trash bag sitting heavily over his back.

Neither the scarecrow nor the vampire looked up, too preoccupied with their activities to take notice, but the skeleton sure did. The bell caught her ear and had her looking over, only to feel her heart drop hard at the sight of the clown. Her chest began hurting with rising anxiety when she saw that his seemingly soulless eyes instantly targeted and locked onto Reader as he made his way to the booth parallel to their own. He stuffed the trash bag in first, pushing it against the wall and sliding in after it. His gloved hands folded together and were placed onto the table before him, settling into a comfy position. His gaze never faltered.

Tara took a slow, shuddery breath before nudging Reader’s side. “R.. Reader…”

Reader’s eyebrow twitched, a little stamp of tongue sticking out from between their lips in concentration. After making one final crease, Reader finally sat back against their seat in triumph, lifting the folded napkin up off the table. In their hands sat a little bat, its wings stretched out wide. “Look! It’s a little baby! A stinky sky puppy!” They grinned, little fangs flashing. They turned towards Tara, holding the creation out in front of her. “Tadaa!”

Tara shook her head, lazily swatting the napkin off their palm before taking their shoulder into her hand, pulling them closer to her. She tucked her face low, whispering into their ear. “That guy is back.”

Reader blinked, frowning when she had slapped the origami creature out of their hand. Rude.

It took a second longer for her words to register in their brain. “..Guy??” Prompted now, their head swiveled to the left and gave a surprised little jolt when the previously empty booth beside them was now preoccupied by the mystery man from the shadows. A shiver rolled down their back. Had he been staring at them the whole time?

.. They found it a little concerning that they found that a little exciting.

The bat had smacked into Dawn, making her sputter and swat it away from her, looking up to make a comment on it, but paused when she noticed that both Tara and Reader were looking off to the side. She followed their gaze, and laughed. “Look, it’s your boyfriend~” She winked at the vampire before returning to her phone.

Reader’s cheeks warmed a little at the teasing, but otherwise hadn’t looked away. They seemed to have entered a staring contest with the clown man. The rock music overhead still strummed along as their eyes stayed locked. They could already feel their own eyes beginning to sting. How could he go this long without blinking?? Honestly they were beginning to feel pretty impressed. Reader’s ears twitched as the sound of the shop owner’s voice sounded in the background, him talking to a new caller. “I told you this a week ago.” He spoke, tone irritable. “We’ll go to your mother’s…. I don’t know, six weeks from now.”

The clown didn’t seem to notice anything else in his environment, fully focused on the vampire sitting across from him. Slowly, his head tilted to the side, gaze never breaking. Almost instantly, Reader did the same, head slowly tilting to the side, mirroring the stranger. Something about the exchange felt so … intimate. In a way that Reader could neither comprehend nor explain. A smile broke across their face.

The clown stayed absolutely stationary, but Reader didn’t miss the way the black corner of his mouth twitched upward.

The pizza man seemed to have finally taken notice of his newest customer and tugged the phone away from his face. “Ey I’ll be right with ya, buddy!” Not a second later he was mumbling back into the receiver, scoffing under his breath. “You gotta see the shape of this fuckin’ guy that just walked in.”

If the stranger had heard any of the man’s words, he didn’t give any indication that he had. He stayed, frozen in time, as still as a professional New Yorker statue performer. Which is why it made Reader jolt again in surprise when suddenly he sat rod straight in his seat, shoulders pulling back and flashing a bright grin at Reader. Were his teeth that red before?

The goofy face and the absurdity of the situation had Reader finally snapping. Their face cracked into a wide grin, fangs flashing brightly as they released a sudden burst of laughter, lifting a hand up to cover their teeth. The clown’s head tilted again, their odd reaction seeming to catch him off guard. His grin faltered for a moment, eyes searching the giggling vampire trying desperately to muffle their noise. Slowly, his red and black toothed grin stretched even wider, dark eyes crinkling as an actual authentic smile took over his face. Oh, he liked that reaction… he liked that a lot.

Tara had been keeping her eye set on the stranger as well, not trusting anything about him. Something was off about him, she just knew it. Reader’s sudden outburst of giggles made her damn near leap out of her skin in surprise, snapping to look their way. Did they not see it too? Even with the way he’s been just oogling them??

She dropped her hand back onto their shoulder, swiftly pulling them back to facing her. She lowered her head to them, aggravation etched heavily in both her expression and voice as she hissed to them. “Reads, stop it. He’s fucking creepy. You’re only making it worse!”

The vampire only shook their head in dismissal, waving her off with a lighthearted smile. “Oh it’s fine, T. He’s just playing around.”

“It’s creepy.” She repeated, not relenting.

“I think it’s pretty charming, really. Look!” When they both turned to look at the clown again, his position changed once again. His elbows were planted into his table, gloved hands had their fingers laced together for his pointed chin to settle right on top of them, smiling brightly at Reader as if he had been waiting for them to look at him again. Their pleased reaction made his grin widen just that much. Reader returned the toothy smile, cheeks warming under the heavy attention. It wasn’t something they were used to, and in most circumstances made them uncomfortable, but the way the monochromatic stranger looked at them so warmly had their chest doing.. something. Something they couldn’t quite put their finger on, but it sure did feel fluttery. Exciting. They easily fell back into another eye lock with the stranger, enjoying the silly faces he pulled, and the rather cute toothy smile.

Tara gulped silently, painted lips twitching into a harder frown. Something was wrong about this. He was wrong. Everything about him was wrong. She didn’t like how his eyes bore so deeply into Reader. She shook her head, short black hair gently fluttering along with the movement. Reader’s second burst of giggling after the clown made yet another weird face – this time, he lifted a knuckle up to his large hooked nose and gave it a little cranking motion, sticking his nasty tongue out, face scrunched – made her shudder, arms wrapping around her middle.

Almost miraculously, The scarecrow finally pulled her nose out from her phone screen again. Her brow furrowed as she took in Tara’s tense posture. “Are you okay?” She received no answer, and turned her head to follow their gaze to, surprise surprise, see that the clown was still upsetting her. Reader seemed fine enough, so why couldn’t she be?

Tara slowly pulled her eyes off of him to finally look back at her friend across the table, gaze hard. “I think we should get our food to go.”

“Why?” Dawn frowned back, not at all pleased with the idea of leaving after they’ve just got settled down. She followed the skeleton’s stiff gaze as it flicked back across Reader and landed on the clown man once again. “Him?”

As far as Dawn could see, the guy was just a fucked up looking weirdo. Reader seemed into it enough, so what was the deal? She didn’t want to get up just because some ugly guy had the hots for their friend. She knew Tara could be a little protective of them – and her, on occasion – but jesus, sometimes too far was too far.

“Seriously, I wanna leave.”

An annoyance dripped off Dawn as she yanked her phone off the table and pulled out from the booth. “Jesus christ.”

Tara’s heart dropped again that night, feeling a cold sweat forming as Dawn made her way to the clown. “D, stop.”

She took no heed of Tara’s empty words as she stood in front of the guy. Despite her being literally right there in front of him, he seemed completely zeroed in on Reader, eyes not wavering for a millisecond off of them. God, this freak had it bad, huh. “Um, excuse me. Excuse me.” Dawn batted his arm. It was like she was just a gust of wind, because he didn’t acknowledge her existence. Or anything, for that matter, outside of Reader.

Reader blinked when Dawn scooted herself in front of the clown, brow raised in curiosity. What was she planning to do? They certainly hoped that she wasn’t planning to bully or embarrass him, as she was pretty known to do every so often. It’s not like he was doing anything wrong, so what was the problem?

The man didn’t seem to see a problem. Hell, his dark gaze stayed absolutely locked onto them, even with Dawn lowering her hand to hover right in his face and beginning to snap loudly not two inches away from his face. He didn’t even blink, painted lips tilted upward and eyes lidded lightly as he stared deep into their soul. It… made a shiver crawl down their body, though definitely not an unwelcome one. They swallowed, feeling the air between them become more and more intimate the longer his lidded eyes glued to them. Hoh boy.

“Can I get a picture with you??” Dawn persisted, head tilting until it completely covered his eye’s path, golden hair falling from her shoulders and down in a curtain, further blocking his way. Reader suddenly took in a breath of air, not realizing that they had been holding it for the majority of their locked gazes. Had their heart been pounding in their chest this whole time?? Slowly they placed a hand over their chest, as if to steady the beating muscle.

Dawn’s light irritation grew when the clown’s gaze seemed to stare right through her, as if she were just air. You’ve got to be fucking kidding.

“Dawn, come on.” Tara urged, hugging herself tighter.

“Shut up.” She waved her off like a pesky fly, trying to grab the clown’s attention again. “Hello? Helloooo??” She blinked in annoyance. Finally she reached out and grasped his closest arm, lifting it out of the way and dropping it over the back of his booth seat. “Okay, I’m gonna take that as a ‘yes.’” She surged forward, plopping herself right onto his thigh, moving to press her faux straw covered chest against his, making herself comfortable. Reader blinked in surprise at Dawn’s sudden invasion. They frowned at her, suddenly feeling heavily shameful at her intrusion of his personal space, as if they made her do it. “Jesus, Dawn! Sir I-I’m sorry, she’s..” Their words tapered off when his deep, dark eyes once again met theirs when Dawn took her seat on him, moving out of the way. They became flustered once again. Even with their rambunctious, personal-bubble-popping friend making herself cozy on his lap, his attention never faltered, never waned, never blinked. Reader felt their face beginning to heat up once again. Why did that make them feel so warm??

The scarecrow wiggled, making herself comfortable and preparing him for their photo shoot. She reached up and began tugging on the little black hat that sat on top of his head, purposely pulling until the string that held it in place around his head snapped against his face, hat dropping from her hold and tumbling to the floor. The pop from the string seemed to finally, finally break him of his concentrated gaze, slowly turning to look at the blonde who invaded his personal space. The lidded, pleased stare from before fell into something cold and unreadable, mouth falling flat. Tara shuddered at how quick his expression fell.

“Uh, oh.” Dawn reached a hand up, tapping a finger on the tip of his hooked nose, right on the little black dot that sat there. “Sorry.” She batted her golden lashes at him innocently, not at all registering the cold, unimpressed glare he laid on her as she bent over, swiping the little hat off of the tiled floor and setting it right back onto his head. His head slowly lowered, glare seeming to get icier when she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and arch her chest up, pressing it right against his own as she posed. Her arm stretched out with her phone in hand, clicking as she began taking pictures with him. Her hair effectively covered half of his face, sticking to the white and black makeup.

Tara couldn’t believe Dawn, shaking her head in disapproval, hand reaching up to rub at her neck anxiously. Of course the outgoing brat would pull some shit like this, just to rub Tara’s fears and concerns right in her face. It was times like these that seriously made her question their friendship.

Dawn pulled away from the camera to look back over to the clown, suddenly snatching his chin in her hand, squishing his prominent cheeks inward until his black painted lips puckered outward. Pleased, she turned back to the screen and puckered her own lips into a duck face, pressing the side of her face against his and taking two more pictures with him. He stared coldly into the camera. When the scarecrow decided that she’s had enough, she released his chin from her grasp, a fake smile flashing as she tapped his nose once again. “Thanks.”

She pulled herself out of his lap without another word, returning to their booth. The man stayed frozen in the spot she maneuvered him in, arm still slung over the back of the booth, frown prominent. Reader frowned with concern. They knew Dawn could be a bit much, especially to people who weren’t already used to her antics. They hoped that the stranger wasn’t too upset with her forwardness.

Tara fixed Dawn with an icy glare when she slid back into her seat. “What the hell is wrong with you??”

Dawn grinned, already beginning to post the pictures onto her media. Her followers will definitely get a kick out of this weirdo. “What, didya think he was gonna hack me up into little pieces or something?” She scoffed, as if the very notion was ridiculous, thumbs tapping away.

Reader sighed, raising a hand to rub their nose bridge. “D, really. Silence doesn't equal consent. You shouldn’t have done that, and you know it.” She rolled her eyes and sent a short sneer Reader’s way before burying back into her Instagram. “Not you too, now. Relax, it’s not like I fucked your little boyfriend or whatever.”

Both Tara and they cringed and Dawn’s crude words. Jesus, she really had a way to make people uncomfortable.

By the time the pizza man had hung up on his call and made his way over to the clown, the mystery man had shifted back to his previous objective of fixing Reader with a rather smoldering stare, hands clasped together again and settled on the table. “What can I get for ya, buddy?”

To nobody’s surprise, the clown didn’t answer or even acknowledge the shop keep, only keeping his eyes locked on Reader. They tilted their head once again, feeling warm under his gaze. Was it getting a little hot in here?? It was beginning to feel so bizarre, how his eyes could go from iceberg cold to blazing warm with just a mere glance.

The pizza man’s patience seemed to already be thinned by the previous calls, making his tone snap a little when he pressed further. “Hey. Hello?? If you don’t order anything, you’re gonna have to leave.”

“You already have eight liiiikes~” Dawn tapped her phone screen with her nail, making a light clack, clack noise as she called over to the clown in a singsong voice. Her comments were already beginning to flood, asking about the creep.

“Can you hear me in there?” The man pressed further, lowering himself until his face was eye to eye with the clown, trying to grasp his attention like Dawn had. But just like he had the scarecrow, his dark eyes zeroed right past the shop keep, as if locked into tunnel vision and Reader was the only focus. They shifted a little in their seat, biting their lip and studying the clown. Seconds later, the pizza man gave up, standing up straight and dropping his hands in exasperation. “Oh god, it’s gonna be a long night,” he grumbled, walking back into the kitchen.

Reader’s eyes trailed after the shop keep as he walked off, before flicking back to the clown. They fumbled with their fingers a little, brows furrowed in concern. The poor guy must be so uncomfortable now, making them feel for him. They shuffled in their seat again, as if working themself up to talk to him. Finally, they found their nerves and opened their black painted lips. “Hey, um.. are you alright? Dawn can delete those pictures, if they make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry about all that.”

“Tch, like hell I will,” the girl injected, scoffing. She tossed her hair over her shoulder with a flick of her head, not bothering to pull up from her cellphone. “Everyone’s eating this shit up.” Reader’s eyebrow twitched in mild irritation, fingers tapping hard on the table before them in an attempt to relax themself. Maybe if their fingers wiggled around, they’d lose the sudden urge to wrap them around her throat.

The clown’s head tilted slightly to the side, eyes boring into theirs for a moment or two longer, before suddenly sliding out of his booth, standing up tall. They leaned back slightly, taken aback. They didn’t expect him to be so tall. Tara tensed beside them as they both watched the man approach one of the other empty booths. The table still had paper plates with crumbs and pizza crusts on it. In the middle lay a small pile of money, a dollar bill and coins for a tip. The clown looked over his shoulder at Reader and back at the table, as if making sure that they were watching him. And watch him they did, both confusion and curiosity painting their face.

His dirty fingertips that were uncovered by the rest of his gloves reached down, pinchin the quarter off the table, and lifted it up. The overhead lights caught on its face, making the coin shine a little as he held it up for them to see. He then made a show of turning on his heel until they were facing his back, taking a knee in front of the toy capsule vending machine slots that sat right next to the entrance to the little shop. Reader leaned to the side, trying to see what he was doing. Tara only shook her head, squeezing her thin arms around herself as if for protection, sinking lower into the booth seat.

The sound of the quarter slotting into the machine and the loud cranking of the knob made their eyebrows raise higher. Was he getting himself a toy??

The clown took a moment to crack open the capsule, plucking the item out of its container, before swiftly pulling himself up from the tiled floor. With a giddy smile, he nearly skipped his way back over to the trio’s booth before once again taking a knee, kneeling in front of Reader. Tara pressed herself against the pale brick wall in agitation. The man’s movements caught Dawn’s attention and she looked up from her screen, wanting to see what would happen next.

He raised the toy up for Reader to see, other hand waving at it in a silent ‘tadaa!’ Between his index and thumb fingers rested a little ring, metal with two hearts stuck side by side. He grinned expectantly at Reader, gesturing to the ring.

Reader leaned further back into their booth seat, blinking in surprise. Was.. was this for them?? Oh, that was rather cute. Their face began warming again as their eyes flickered between the ring and the clown’s face, lips parted in silent question. From across the table Dawn snickered, not believing what she was seeing. “Aww.”

“I-is that for me?” They asked shyly, lips beginning to quirk upward.

The clown nodded gleefully, showing off the ring once more, before holding up a finger in a ‘hold on’ gesture. Before they knew it, the mysterious man was reaching out and taking their hand in his, making Reader’s breath catch in their throat.

Tara’s shoulders lifted up, putting her own hands on top of the table’s surface. “What are you doing??”

The clown paid no mind to her as he lifted up Reader’s hand with care. Another shiver ran down their spine when they realized just how much bigger his hand was compared to their own. Slowly, the clown slid the double hearted ring onto their ring finger, until it finally rested at the base of their digit. He held their hands a moment longer, as if admiring the metal adjourning their finger, rubbing his large thumb over it. With flourish he released their hand and waved his own around it, as if showcasing the little thing with pride. His head tilted to the side, smiling almost bashfully as his hands came down to clasp over his chest in adoration, eyes lidding.

Reader’s face burned hot through the whole transaction, mouth fallen open. Oh, oh that was just precious. A bright, toothy smile stretched across their heated face, lifting their other hand to cover over their mouth, bashful. “Oh, oh my. This is so sudden. I do!” They giggled, eager to play along with the silly, silly man. Their words had him shimmying his shoulders almost shyly, red teeth glinting brightly under the lights.

Suddenly Reader’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh, just a sec!”

They pulled their cross body bag up into their lap, sticking their tongue out as they dug around for what they were looking for. The clown watched curiously, hands still pressed to his chest in endearment. Once they finally caught hold of what they were searching for, they smiled wider, pulling it out and holding it up for him to observe.

In their hold was a little plastic spider ring, one that they had collected off of the cupcakes they scarfed down at the party. They loved it when the treats had little garnish toys and picks, especially when they were silly little rings. Apparently holding onto the thing was a good decision, because the way the clown’s dark eyes lit up at the sight of it had their chest feeling that certain little fluttery warmth from before.

“Reads-” Tara began nervously from beside them, not liking this one bit. It was bad enough that the creep came over to initiate the act, but they didn’t have to encourage him! Reader paid her no mind as they carefully took hold of the clown’s hand, much like he had theirs. With a soft smile, they slid the ring onto his much larger finger. They couldn’t push it up very far, what with the rest of his glove stopping them, but it was on nonetheless. “See? Now we match!”

Dawn was pressing her hands over her mouth, trying desperately to stifle her loud laughter and the absurd act that was taking place in front of her. The clown slowly retracted his hand to hold it up to his face, expression soft as he turned his hand in different angles, admiring the little plastic spider as if it were a three carat diamond ring.

Reader smiled, pleased with the soft expression of happiness he held. “I know it’s not as fancy as mine, but I hope it’ll suffice?”

Their words seemed to snap the stranger out of his haze, blinking for the first time that night as he’s brought back from whatever he had been thinking. With flourish, he took hold of their hand once more, lowering himself further to press a kiss to their ring. Tara felt like she was about to be sick as the clown pressed kiss upon kiss on the little metal hearts, moving onto pressing his lips to their much smaller knuckles.

The vampire choked, sputtering at the sweet little kisses. Oh my god, oh my god that’s so cute??! Their face burned an entirely new shade of red and they began giggling in both bashfulness and disbelief, laughing harder when the clown began kissing up their hand and slowly making his way up their arm.

He never ceased and didn’t seem like he would, lacing his fingers with theirs and trailing his lips up their sleeved arm to their shoulder, trying not to smile too hard as he did so. Their laughter cracked into a gasp at the feeling of his lips landing on their uncovered collar bone, lips leaving a black smudge in his wake. Oh shit, oh fuck, when did it get so damn HOT in here???

“Hey, you can’t-!” Tara sat up straight, wrapping her hands around Reader’s arm closest to her and yanking them towards her, pulling them away from his creepy attacks. They gave a surprised yelp at the sudden interruption, whipping back to look at Tara. The clown’s curved eyebrows shot up high when they were pulled away from his grasp, parted lips suddenly pulling into a snarl. He slowly pulled up from his knees and stood ramrod straight, staring over Reader’s head at Tara, fixing her with the chilliest, most hateful glare she had ever been given. Her eyes widened in fear.

“Oh shit??” Dawn choked, fumbling with her phone in her hands, quickly swiping until her camera was pulled up. If any drama was going to go down, she’d be damned if she didn’t record it!

“Ey, what seems to be the problem ov-” The pizza man returned, hands holding paper plates of large slices of pizza. The clown’s threatening, towering stance and nasty bearing teeth had him pausing. “Oh hell no, I don’t think so, pal!”

The shopkeeper plopped the plates onto the booth table behind them before gripping onto the clown, grabbing fistfulls of the back of his black and white costume and forcefully shoving him towards the front of the restaurant. “Fuckin’ FREAK! Get outta here!”

The trio all watched, wide eyed as the much shorter man shoved the clown out of the door, bell dinging as the clown stumbled into the street, whipping around in anger. The man quickly stepped back to snatch up the black trash bag that had sat in the booth, tossing it out with the clown. “Take your shit and don’t come back!”

Tara felt immensely better without having the creep hovering around them, but Reader stared through the glass door at their silly clown, hands clutching onto the front of their chest. What had happened?? They just looked away for a moment, what could the clown have possibly done to warrant such a forced leave?? They were just playing around, that wasn’t bad, was it? Their shoulders fell, unsure of what to even think.

The clown stood fuming, fists clenched tightly into balls at his side. His head snapped back to glare through the glass, but fell short when Reader’s crestfallen face caught his eye. His shoulders and hands slowly released their tension as he met their searching eyes.

Slowly he lifted both of his gloved hands up, pressing them against the cool glass and leaned his face in. Reader watched, brows beginning to knit together, lips parting. Just what was he planning to do? He couldn’t come back in.

Reader’s mental question was quickly answered as the clown’s tongue fell out of his opened maw, and slowly dragged it up the glass, hot breath fogging around the muscle’s path. His wide eyes stayed locked onto theirs the whole time, pulling back only to repeat, running his tongue slowly up the glass.

Their jaw fell completely open, face feeling so hot that the color was surely spreading to their ears and down their chest. Not once did they look away. They couldn’t. Not with how heavy his gaze had gotten. Not with the way his chest seemed to heave up and down as he breathed heavily. Not with the way his fingers gripped hard against the glass, as if struggling hard not to just rip the thing open to enter again. Not with the way he licked the glass like he wanted to do it to them.

They swallowed thickly, lifting their hand up to attempt to cover their flustered face, but it was much too late. The clown’s mouth twisted into a hungry grin. He already saw it.

And boy did he seem to like it.

“I said GET! GET OUTTA HERE!!” The man whipped back around when he noticed the trio still staring at the door. The man’s face grew a ruddy color as he grew angry. “I’ll call the police, freak!”

Slowly, oh so slowly, the clown removed his fingertips from the glass, pulling himself away from the door. He momentarily broke eye contact to haul the hefty black bag over his shoulders. When he looked back at Reader, he gave a toothy smirk and a saucy wink, fingers wiggling in a wave goodbye as he slowly left their eyesight.

“... Holy shit,” The scarecrow bursted out laughing, smacking the table. “Oh my GOD, that guy was obviously turned on by you!”

Tara finally sat up properly in the booth for the first time in what felt like hours, releasing a long breath and glaring heatedly at Dawn. “You’re fucking sick, you know that? That was insane. Insane! Right, Reads?”

Reader didn’t reply, staring at the wet strip on the door. They rubbed their cheeks bashfully, looking off to the side. Wow, what a night.

“You three okay?” The pizza man grabbed the paper plates from the other table, placing them in front of the trio. Dawn wasn’t hesitant to swipe her plate, beginning to fold her piece. “Oh, he’s harmless.”

Tara paused, but eventually gave a short nod, beginning to pick at her pizza’s toppings.

The man placed his hands on his hips, looking down at the vampire. “You okay?”

Reader fingered the little double hearted ring that still sat on their finger, nodding absentmindedly. That seemed to please the man well enough as he patted the back of their booth comfortingly. “Don’t worry ‘bout him, he won’t be comin’ back. I’ll make sure of that.”

The vampire hummed emptily at his words, not really feeling much comfort from them. They.. they really liked the silly clown guy. It was a shame that they couldn’t get to know him a little better. Now they’d probably never see him again. That thought alone had them sighing silently, propping their head up in their hand, leaning on the table disheartenedly. Tara side eyed them curiously, picking off bits of her slices and chewing them.

●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・●

“And you’re sure you’ll be fine heading back by yourself?” Tara asked persistently, giving Reader a searching look, as if looking for any reason to walk them home. Lord knows they didn’t need another Halloween freak tailing after them like a lovesick dog.

Reader laughed quietly, patting her arm reassuringly. “Yes, mom. Seriously, I’m solid. My place is just a block away. You should worry about getting home yourselves.”

Dawn tucked her phone back into her patchwork pocket, stretching her arms high above her arms. “We’ll be fiiiiine. We’ll even text ya when we get there.” “That might be a little tough, considering my phone died a couple minutes ago,” they winced, smiling strainely. “I’ll put it on charge when I get home. G’night, guys!”

“See ya, babes.” Tara and Dawn parted, beginning their trek back to their ride. Reader let out a tired sigh and turned the opposite direction, walking down the sidewalk. The walk back wasn’t very difficult, but it did sting a bit from being in their pinching shoes all night. A bad decision on their end, really.

They climbed the steps to their apartment and paused at the door, sliding their hand into their bag to fish for their keys. They blinked in surprise when their fingers clacked against something.. rectangular??

Curiously, they grabbed hold of the thing and pulled it out, baffled.

When the hell did a VHS tape end up in their bag??

The next chapter(s) are still being worked on. I’m unsure when they’ll finally be finished, but just know that they ARE being worked on. I’m just trying to make it a nice, long read. I haven’t seen Terrifier 2, so if I write something in the next chapter that seems off with the new info, that’s why. I’m too short on muns right now from moving into my new apartment to go see the movie. (And boy lemme tell you just how SAD I am about it ;;;; )

#x reader #reader x character #slasher x reader #clown #art the clown x reader #coulrophilia #terrifier #all hallows eve #long post #ao3 #clown x reader #minors dni

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cornerstoreclown · 1 year

Text

Unlikely Guardian

Summary: This is a short one-shot (4114 words approx.) where the reader (Gender Neutral) is being followed on their way home by someone other than their familiar companion, Art. It doesn’t end well for the people who tried to harm the Reader. Where is the safest place to be from danger, than in the arms of danger itself?

Warnings: Sexual harassment (Catcalling w/ gender neutral terms), attempted murder, gun violence, murder, stalking, depictions of violence, blood.

Author’s notes: I don’t really have much to add here, other than that thanks for the support from the community so far! You all have been very kind.

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“Fuck, it’s cold.” You mumble to no one but, well, yourself.

You should have brought gloves when you walked around the city today. The air is cold, dry, and bitter and nipping at your exposed fingers. It wasn’t that bad on your way to the local pharmacy when the sun was still up, but over the course of time it took for you to get there, wait in a long ass line, pay for your medicine and finally leave, it’s gotten worse. Then, to top it off, you were hungry after that trek and walked an additional distance to get something to eat, because in no way you felt like cooking tonight. Now you were carrying not only your medicine, but leftovers to take home. At least the food smells good from the plastic bag you’re carrying it in. Your medicine is tucked in your backpack you have over your shoulders.

This was the sucky part about November—the clocks jumped back an hour last week, and now it’s dark before it’s even five pm. Halloween came to an end not too long ago and some people still have yet to take down their creepy decorations, you notice as you walk down various streets on your way back. You didn’t mind it, though. Halloween was one of your favorite holidays, and the macabre never bothered you. It was an escape and maybe a coping mechanism for the terror that was actual reality, or maybe you just really liked this type of stuff.

It’s dark out, the sun has long since set hours ago. The sounds of leaves crunching under your feet as the wind blows them in your path accompanies you amid the peaceful quiet of this often empty part of the city. Walking alone at night was often considered something dangerous for many, yourself included, but you needed your medicine, and you really didn’t want to be without it. It was easier to walk around during the month of October at night, and it was perhaps the only time you actually took your time when coming home from any late night escapade. The reasons for your late returns home varied, whether it be because you went out to eat by yourself, went to the movies, or just a general night time walk around to appreciate the spooky decorations.

Those leisurely carefree strolls were all because you had Death’s eyes on you at all times.

Art.

Art was your friend you made a few years back during one Halloween, who, after countless encounters and even a sleepover —if you could call it that—he had at your place last fall, eventually came to be… A sort of unofficial partner, you suppose, because you’re not really sure what you two are. He had a tendency to emerge during the tail end of September and lingered all throughout October before going rampant on the 31st like he was ticking on some sort of internal clock. Maybe he’s an evil Halloween spirit. Or a demon. Devil? You don’t really know. Point being, you had your own attack dog, or attack clown, in this case, who clearly harbored some sort of care for you, though to what extent you still don’t know. You try not to think too hard every time November comes around, lest you start to feel lonely again and let the pangs of yearning for his company become so strong that you’ll feel sick.

He killed people. You knew that. But he was nice to you… even though sometimes you did question if one day he’d turn on you and you’d end up on the back of a milk carton. Sometimes being around him felt like being around a wild animal, because he was about as unpredictable as one. You supposed you could sympathize with people whose life work was taking care of exotic dangerous animals—it was the creatures' beauty and the appreciation for what those predators were that kept those people around. In your own way, you could say you thought the same about The Miles County Clown.

You even remember one night last October you were walking home in the dark, and he had been stalking you up until the moment you left your apartment, waiting for the moment to effectively scare the shit out of you, hammer out and positioned to show he was ready to attack. He was fully successful in that mission, and initially it made you angry as he stood there pointing and laughing after your soul just felt like it left your body. You remember calling him an absolute asshole and playfully giving him a light shove to his shoulder while he was still in hysterics at having made you jump and yelp. You didn’t laugh, but you did smile at him. You told him next time you’ll have to jumpscare him and threaten him with a hammer. The expression he gave you was a surprised face that melted into a mischievous smile which told you that he, for sure, would like to see you try. Challenge accepted.

You smile a little to yourself as you reminisce on the good times you had with him while walking, but your attention flickers when you hear the sound of what you thought was something like a glass breaking behind you.

You stop in your tracks, turning your head, smile disappearing, eyes scanning the surroundings trying to find the source of the noise. All you see is a bunch of brick buildings, but no sign of anyone. You did see a rat run across the street from the sidewalk that you’re on, though. You feel yourself deflate a bit and relax, watching the critter until it is no longer visible. At that, you turn on your heel and continue walking.

“Hey, hot stuff!”

Someone was calling out. You didn’t think much of it, or, you chose not to think much of it. You heard it loud and clear off in the distance behind you. They must not be talking to you, no one really talks to you. You keep your stride.

“Where ya goin’?!”

You grip your plastic bag full of food tighter by the handles, a little more speed to your walk.

“I said HEY! HOT STUFF! WHERE YA GOIN’?”

The voice is somewhat deep, and that’s already a bit of a reason for your blood to be pumping quicker. You feel ice run through your veins as you start to have a run to your walk, and then a full blown sprint. You just wanted to be left alone, and you were too anxious to look back over your shoulder for fear of what you might see. Just a few more blocks and you’d be fine! You’d be able to get to your building, run up the stairs to your floor, lock the door, and hopefully, that would be that! You’d keep your phone close at hand if you needed to call anyone! You’d never travel down these streets again, maybe not until next October, you tell yourself! It’s fine, you try to lie to yourself, it’s fine it’s fine it’s fine it’s fine it’s fine—

“Fine, have it your way, then!”

Words haven’t ever struck fear into your heart in such a way as they have now. It prompts you to look over your shoulder to finally see a man, rather nondescript and unremarkable. Clearly by his body language and the way that he’s slowly walking towards you versus running, something is terribly off. Where did he even COME from?!

“Why in such a hurry, sexy?”

You skid to an immediate halt as a new voice comes not from behind you, but in front of you. You look ahead to the source of the sound, seeing out from the alleyway in front of you, two more men step forward, cutting you off from going any further. Fear has a tight grip on you, and you’re briefly paralyzed. With a delayed start, you reach for your phone in your pocket too little too late, your fingers frantically trying to dial 9-1-1, but you’re cut off just at the second you’re about to press the phone symbol as one of the men before you snatches it.

“You don’t need this.” The one who seized your phone says, smirking at you before he throws your phone on the ground and smashes it beneath his foot with one, two, three very hard stomps. You’re mortified and horrified, taking a few steps back as your flight response kicks in, self preservation urging for you to run. You go to run back the way you came, but immediately bump into the first man you saw that was calling out to you. He’s taller than the other two behind you, and he’s walking forward, forcing you to back up until you’re almost caged in by all three of them. There’s still some space left, but not nearly enough to try and get out without bumping into them.

“H-Hey,” You hold your hands up by your sides as a gesture of your submission. “Listen, I-I don’t have much, but if it’s money you want, I can give you money.”

You really didn’t have a whole lot of cash on you. You were barely hanging on until your next paycheck. All you got to your name right now is maybe thirty-seven dollars? It’s not a lot, but it was something.

“I give you money, and you let me go, and I don’t tell anyone about any of this, okay?”

The two men behind you chuckle, as does the one in front of you. It only fills you with dread, and the seconds that pass feel like agonizing hours. You’re living out literally every second of your life right now, and you hate it.

“Tell?” The laugh of the man before you continues, his backup chorus over your shoulder following along with him. He’s brandishing a switchblade now, holding it to your face, and you try to lean away only for the men behind you hold you in place by your shoulders. You shut your eyes tight and wince.

“You’ll be lucky if you’ll be even able to talk again once I carve up that face of—”

You hear a sickly wet thunk! in front of you.

“What the—?” One of the men behind you says.

“Oh, fuck.” The other one behind you says, and you feel both of the men’s grasp on your shoulders vanish.

“IT’S HIM! IT’S REALLY HIM! HE DOES EXIST! RUN!”

Your eyes open at that, seeing that both men took off in two different directions. You felt one run in the direction where you came from, and one run where you were initially going before you were stopped. When you look in front of you, you see the first man who was the start of all your problems, frozen in place with pure shock, eyes wide and jaw slack. You notice he’s falling forward, and with adrenaline rushing through you, you yelp and dodge him as he falls face first onto the ground just at your feet.

There’s an ax in his back.

You look up quickly at that, shock and surprise leaving you bewildered as you recognize your savior standing before you, donning the familiar black and white.

Art?! October was over--Why was he still here? Did he come back?

That bliss is short-lived when you see he’s holding a gun pointed in your direction, until you realize it’s not at you, but over your shoulder. Art’s expression is stone cold. There’s no smile. Whenever Art wasn’t smiling, you knew that it was bad news for whoever was on the receiving end. Fortunately, it appears as if you're not on that end.

You quickly move out of the way, looking off to where he’s aiming. One of the men who ran the direction you were headed to go home hasn’t gotten very far, and you’re bracing yourself for the loud noise, covering your ears with your hands.

The blast from the gun is loud, and you still flinch when he fires it. You didn’t get to see the exact moment because of that, but you see blood spurting from the back of the fleeing man's skull seconds before he crumples dead to the ground. Art was great with his aim when he really put focus into it. You glance back at the clown, seeing him slowly lower the gun down to his side, staring off straight ahead at the limp body with no emotion.

“Art!” You exclaim, dropping your plastic bag and running right for him. Contrary to how that might be wise or sensible considering he was holding a gun and is an unpredictable murderer, it was an absolute relief to see him. He catches your intentions immediately and opens his arms slightly for you to bring it in. He's not smiling but you catch a glimpse of his teeth as they were often exposed, grinning or not. Your arms wrap around him tightly, and he’s able to effectively stand his ground without the weight of your form making him stumble back. He’s as sturdy as a pillar, and you feel his arms around you. His gun points downward at the ground from behind you. Your backpack is largely in the way, but his free hand rubs at the back of your neck in an oddly reassuring way that tickles you. You’re jittery, and you sway a bit in his arms as you both stand there in silence for those few seconds. You finally nuzzle yourself against his chest, and inhale.

Your nose wrinkles, and you pull back just enough to look up at him while still holding on. Is that sulfur you’re smelling?

“Ugh. Art, you smell terrible. Where have you been? Did you just come out of a volcano?”

He looks upwards at nothing in particular, purposefully looking rather thoughtful to indicate that he was thinking. He squints after a few seconds, then is reanimated again, giving a gentle sway of his head, followed by a shrug of his shoulders. He’s essentially telling you, ‘yeah, something like that’. You’re not going to ask about it further. The smell is god awful, but at least he’s here. You’re willing to put up with it.

“Well… Thanks for saving me. I missed you.” You tell him, but he’s not responding to your words. Instead, he’s looking at you and inspecting you, turning your head this way and that. Normally the man was all smiles and grins, but when he was angry, he was angry. He’d flip back soon, he always did.

“I’m fine, I–”

Art interrupts you with a finger in your face, telling you to stop for a second as he licks his thumb and proceeds to wipe your cheek, rather aggressively to the point where it feels like he’s trying to actually move the skin off your face. You must have gotten something on you somehow, but you don’t know when. Maybe there was some food on your face from earlier. He’s looking comedically focused.

“Yes, thank you,” You tell him.

Once he sees that you’re okay and your cheek is now clean, he gives you a gentle pat on the side of your face. You watch him through tired eyes.

“I‘m really glad to see you.”

He looks flattered, putting his hand to his chest as if to give a coy ‘me?’ gesture, brows raised and teeth showing in a smile, and you purse your lips, then show a smile of your own, giving a nod. You’re willing to forgo the fact that he smells like he literally just came from the pits of a fiery hell, and lean against him for another short while for comfort. And he lets you.

As you both stood there in the stillness of the night, it didn’t take long for it to be interrupted by the sounds of groaning beneath you. Both you and Art look down, and see the man who had the ax sticking out of his back rouse, glancing up at the both of you. You stare down at the man as the stranger’s eyes meet yours, meanwhile Art only looks down at him in mild disgust, brows furrowed, lips pulled back and teeth showing, holding a silent snarl.

“You mean to tell me…” He says, a resigned and weak laugh coming from his lips. You’re almost getting the vibe that he knows that he’s not getting out of this alive, compared to the other two that took the flight response. “That you two fucking freaks are together?”

The Miles County Clown’s reputation has only been growing over the years, much to Art’s delight. There were very few who didn’t know about him. He had a reputation to maintain, after all. So well known, yet damn near impossible to catch. He was a blight, sent from whatever depths he came from to torture mankind.

Makes you wonder what that said about you, given that he’s tolerated you and hasn’t murdered you yet.

“I should have guessed. You look like you came from the fucking circus. Your wannabe poser buddy over there can’t even kill people right like the real Miles County Clown.”

The audacity that this man and his two friends had to try and harm you, and then for him act like you’re the problem and insult your physical appearance on top of it. Now that the shock has had time to settle in and your emotions have rearranged themselves proper, you feel anger. Rage. A fury beyond what words could ever hope to paint. Your veins feel like they’re on fire, blood boiling hot. You let go of Art, who is watching you with fascination and delight as you make your way over to the stranger with clenched fists. Art’s smile is wide, and he looks about as devilish as ever.

You are experiencing righteous fury.

“You don’t get to say that to me when you’re on your deathbed, and my friend here is very much the real thing.” You tell him coldly, kneeling down to his level. You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek, assessing the man. The ax in his back was pretty deep, no doubt paralyzing him from damage to the spinal cord. Art made it a point to immobilize him so he couldn’t harm you further, you realize. “I think he was just saving you for later.” You look over your shoulder at your clown companion, who has his head held high, teeth still bared, but a sense of … joy? In how you’re standing up for yourself, and him.

“I want him quiet,” You tell Art. “Permanently.”

The man’s expression falters. You stand back up, and Art has his gun held out for you to take. He points towards the familiar black trash bag a few feet away from where you both are.

“You want me to pick the weapon?” He gives you the most enthusiastic nod, silently cackling as he does so, gently giving you a push in the proper direction. You go willingly, peeking over your shoulder to see Art kicking this man in the gut a few times. The man is wailing with each hit.

The man who got shot in the back of the head had it easy.

Making your way over to the bag, you open it up, seeing an arrangement of items. Plenty of tiny handheld improvised weapons that you’ve seen him show you before. Nails, a hammer, some standard tools that you’d find in a doctors office and others that belonged more in a construction site. After maybe half a minute of careful inspection, it’s the boxcutter knife that catches your eye.

Examining Art's gun, you carefully put the safety on and unload the magazine, place it in the bag, then finally toss the gun inside next. Once you have that settled, you reach for your torture accessory of choice.

With weapon in hand you walk back over to Art, who was still rather ardently tormenting this man, giving the most gleefully silent laughter you’ve seen from him in a while. You clear your throat and he takes a second to stop what he’s doing, hand extended out for whatever weapon you’ve decided to give him. He’s still looking down at the wheezing assailant-turned-victim, but turns his head when you place the box cutter knife into his open palm. Your fingertips brush against his during the exchange, and your eyes meet his.

Whatever you’re feeling, it’s a lot like a high.

“Will you come visit me tonight?” You ask him, a hopeful look in your eyes. He gives a lopsided smile and a shrug. There’s a glint in his eye, and you understand that he’s not done. There’s still the one who got away.

“Well, I have leftovers if you drop by. It’s ramen, but I think you’d like it. It’s wiggly like worms.” Your lips turn upwards into a fond smile. The man had the oddest affinity for insects and other invertebrates. He’s eaten a few before, too. You were trying to have him try other things than people and sweets, but you weren’t going to knock him too hard for eating invertebrates. It was protein. A win is a win.

He looks as if he’s about to react to your kind offer, but the sound of the man beneath his feet groaning disrupts your conversation. Art punishes him with another swift kick, this time in his chest. The ax has been removed and tossed to the side, presumably done when you had your back turned. You suspect Art removed it to expose the wound wider and possibly to dig further into with his bare hands or that box cutter knife. However, all of that is speculation based on what you know in regards to how he murders people. You can only guess.

“Please! Have mercy! I-I-I was just kidding earlier!” The assailant cries out. Art is gleefully showing the blade to him, fervently nodding his head, as if to say that ‘yes, this blade is going to be going in you, multiple times!’. The man’s pleas mean nothing to Art. This man is a pathetic waste of flesh, muscle, and bone, and Art knows he’s going to delight in cutting him open like a package and slicing through the skin like it’s box tape.

You swallow and look over at Art, then the pleading man. Before Art gets too into carving this man up into a masterpiece, you put your hand gently on his shoulder as he’s leaning down, preparing to cut him. The clown’s arm is raised, but he keeps it there when he feels your touch, and he turns his head to you.

“I’m heading home,” You tell him. “Stay safe, please.” You reach for your broken phone nearby, knowing you’ll have to replace it later. You’ll be more upset about your phone once all of what’s happened tonight has time to process.

He gives you a thumbs up with his other hand and then gives a friendly goodbye wave, and you return it, before turning your back to him. You refuse to look, because hearing the sounds of flesh being sliced repeatedly and the blood curdling screams is enough for you. You grab your plastic bag full of leftovers, and begin walking away.

It was only a matter of time that you’d start to hear police sirens, and you don’t want to be there for when that will happen. If someone hadn’t already called the cops, you’re sure they would eventually. The cries for help are loud, but the gunshot was louder.

You start to run, taking off as fast as you can for home until your lungs burn and you’re wheezing. You make it home safe and sound, and for a second you debate on locking the door, wondering if you should leave it unlocked for Art. Deciding to be safe and not to press your luck, you do lock it. If Art really wanted in, he’d find a way in your apartment. You never did get to ask him if he was always around all times of the year, or if this was just a one time thing and he sensed you were in trouble. You place your food on the counter, and prepare yourself for a long shower with full intentions of afterwards turning on the news, maybe to see the fate of not only the two men who bothered you, but the third one who got away.

And maybe, you tell yourself, just maybe when you get out of the bathroom you’d find a clown sitting on your couch in front of the television, stained in blood and gore with a trash bag by his side, sloppily eating leftover noodles.

#art the clown x you #art the clown x reader #art the clown #terrifier #coulrophilia #slasher x you #slasher x reader #minors DNI #long post #wrote most of this to Glow by Mr. Kitty... thank u Mr. Kitty #I've done read this over like 20 times and sat on my phone painstakingly proofreading it so if there's any errors--#then fuck me i guess #canon x reader

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