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The Clown

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It was a large clown. His face was painted ghostly white and he was wearing a crimson clown nose. When I looked into his eyes, all I saw was emptiness. Black and cold, piercing my body like an icy burst of water.

            He stood over me, leaning forward, hunchbacked. I was frozen. Movement was out of the question for me. My brain was fuzzy and my memory was blank.

            I had seen clowns like him before. He was wearing a white body suit with violet cotton balls as buttons. His giant orange clown shoes were size seventeen, and they matched his orange tufts of hair.

            Clowns like this one were typically harmless. They just act cheery and make balloon animals for children.

            I knew this one was different. There was a difference between looking into the eyes of a human clown and looking into the eyes of the devil.

            They were dull obsidian in color. Cold, dark, empty, just like the stone.

            Dead.

            I saw about ten of the same clown, which made the scene even more frightening. I was in a room of mirrors.

            I noticed a flash of silver. The clown had one hand behind his back. I looked into the mirror facing his back to get a glimpse of what he was doing. Then, I saw it.

            A shiny, sharp, silver dagger was being raised into the air. The clown held it over me and moved closer. I tried to run, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t make a peep.

            I was going to die.

           

The End
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