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The moon had just begun its slow descent in the sky, the sun just barely peeking its way over the horizon as the masked figure slipped silently from the window with the grace of a feline, away from the house behind him.
Ducking into a nearby alleyway, the brunette began to navigate his way through the dark suburb, passing through unnoticed to all still bundled up in the warmth and comfort of their homes.
Clenching his jaw as a frigid winter wind blew through the alley, the hooded figure slid his previously bunched-up sleeves down his arms, the material regretfully too short to cover his fingers.
Pulling out a pair of worn finger-less gloves, the brunette tugged them on, stopping at the end of the building before a muffled scream reached his sensitive ears.
Furrowing his eyebrows, curiosity sent the brunette off on a tangent, the almost inaudible cries leading him to an old cottage on the outskirts of the city, boarder lining the forest where the gasps of agony and whimpers of pain originated from.
Making his way quietly up the single step onto the porch of the cottage, he reached a gloved hand out, something that he couldn’t name drawing him to the door handle. Twisting the small brass handle, he pushed the flimsy door open, choosing not to acknowledge the large claw makes that were tracked down its surface.
Greeted with the overwhelming smell of blood, Jack swiftly collected his scalpel into his right hand, his left gently brushing against the wall as he made his way through the too-dark house.
Inhaling through his nose, the brunette caught the scent of another being.
One that wasn’t dead.
And definitely wasn't human.
Creeping around the final corner, Jack was met with the closed door of what he guessed to be the bedroom.
The smell was strongest here.
Alarm bells blared in his mind as he approached the door and his gait faltered, a sense of dread sending him reeling back as the door was slammed open, narrowly missing smashing the cannibal as he released a low growl.
Filing up the entire space of the door frame stood a monstrous clown, his lanky arms nearly brushing the floor as he hunched over, too tall to properly make his way through the doorway.
Blank white eyes locked with Jack’s sockets, the blood almost encasing the horrific clown ignored for the time being as the room behind him became visible, shredded internal organs and human viscera dripping down the badly wallpapered room, the remains of what looked to be a female teenager hung to the wall above the bedhead, a large metal spike protruding from what remained of her chest cavity.
Too overwhelmed by the pungent smell, Jack hadn’t noticed that he’d stopped moving, sockets locked onto the atrocious being in front of him, the black feathers that sat atop its shoulders heavy and dripping with blood onto the smooth floorboards.
“A visitor! How nice!” The sound of the warbled words sent a jolt through the smaller killer at the realization that the clown had yet to even open its mouth yet.
“Well now Jack, it’s not nice to ignore your host.” Eyebrows shooting up in alarm, Jack hurriedly jumped back.
‘How does he know my name?’ The thought pushed back all others as he watched the taught grey skin around the clown’s mouth twitch up in a smile, pointed fangs dripping with blood like the rest of him, chunks of what Jack knew to be human flesh stuck between his teeth.
“I’ve been expecting you, of course!” The jerky movement of the clown’s mouth signified that he had actually spoken this time, but it seemed almost out-of-sync with the words.
Bypassing the useless thought of ‘Can he read my mind?’ the cannibal dropped his satchel on the ground nudging it around the corner as he tightened his grip on his scalpel, his instincts as a killer telling him to attack, but his persistent desire to flee mimicking that of a human.
Before he had the chance to move, the clown had beat him to the mark, his monochrome-striped arms extending out and connecting with Jack’s chest, throwing him backwards and slamming him harshly down the short hall and into the corner of the kitchen bench, a chocked gurgle escaping his throat as the protruding edge connected with the small of his back, the clawed hands releasing him as he collapsed to the ground, back arched as he let out a hiss of pain.
Sucking a shallow breath through his teeth, he reached his arm up, gripping the bench and pulling himself to his feet, regaining his composure quickly before holding his head up high, meeting eyes stubbornly with the clown as its arms slowly began to shrink back to their original length.
“Is that the best you’ve got?” It was a challenge.
A challenge that the abomination accepted.
Bringing his clawed hand up, he grasped the cannibal’s arm before he had the chance to back away, the sharp appendage barely racking along the side of his rib-cage before moving closer, his dangerously pointed nose a mere inch from Jack’s own.
Ignoring the shudder that ran through his body in the cold house, the brunette’s scalpel flashed through the air, leaving a clean incision along the striped arm that held him.
“Feisty. How cute.” Came the unsettling voice of the clown as his fingers slowly released him, stepping back as the surrounding building seemed to lurch and fragment.
“Don’t taunt me.” His voice was low, and the earlier sting from the countertop was well hidden as he wiped the clown’s unsettlingly black blood onto his grey-black pants.
“Would you rather we got straight to the point?”
Before he had the chance to respond, the checked tiles beneath his feet lurched up violently, knocking him to the ground as his vision faded out.
As his vision returned, he felt his fingers brush a patch of course, dead grass, whipping his head around, he found no more traces of the lonely cottage on the outskirts of the woods.
Now, he found himself in an old carnival.
The dry dirt beneath him was broken, dry and cracked the odd tuft of weedy grass and pathetic dead flowers dotting the land. The sky above him was overcast and the only sounds he could hear was that of the wind blowing through the various old carnival attractions and the unsettling creaking and groaning of the large roller-coaster track that encircled the area, its wooden planks destroyed by wood-rot and hanging precariously on a rusted frame.
As he took in his new surroundings, Jack brought himself to his feet, the clown nowhere to be found as he held onto his scalpel protectively.
“I’m over here, lil’ Jackie.” The clown’s hoarse voice seemed to echo inside his mind as he felt his head unwillingly turn to face the clown that had perched itself atop the tracks of the roller-coaster.
An odd sensation rushed through his body as the world around him faded in and out of view once more, this time, the hooded male found himself in front of the clown, feet placed on the wooden slats, the ground far below and the wind whipping at his clothes, pushing down his hood and tousling his hair around messily.
Glaring daggers at the clown, Jack forced himself not to look down, the swaying structure making his stomach do flips.
Gazing down at the blue masked figure below him, the clown grinned, and with a blink of his too-wide eyes, the track jolted to the left, knocking the smaller male over the edge with a cry, his gloved hands desperately searching for purchase on the rusted metal as he dangled over the edge, eyes wide as his scalpel slipped from his grasp, silently falling to the ground, the faintest of clatters as it landed on the metal work booth below could be heard.
With an almost disappointed sigh, the clown walked off the edge of the track, righting his footing on the underside of it, gravity paying him no heed as he now stood –upside down- against the underside of the track.
“You look scared. It suits you.” He taunted, seeing the briefest flash of confusion in his prey as the track righted itself, his ashen grey hands clawing to pull himself up.
“You raise a good point, lil’ Jackie.--” He chuckled, aware that he hadn’t spoken a word as he watched the male pull himself up, remaining in a crouched position, his fingers white-knuckled as he gripped the plank beneath him.
“--How do I know what emotions you’re feeling while you wear that mask of yours?” Imitating the male, he looped around the track again, returning to standing vertically atop it.
Subconsciously, Jack brought his hand up to brush the edge of his mask as he got to his feet.
“Yes. That one.” Chuckled the clown before his arm shot out, claws extended, and crashed into his jaw, the mask shattering on impact and knocking him back, his eyes shooting open as his mask cracked and fell to the ground below, his ashen grey face now visible as he shot a scowl at the clown, a sense of something akin to nausea spreading through his body from the impact, his limbs growing heavy as he regained his stance, much too close to the edge for his comfort.
‘Move. Move dammit!’ Jack’s body felt like lead as he tried to force himself to move forward, to dig his nails into the clown’s throat and tear out his esophagus.
“I suppose I’m being a bit unfair, aren’t I?” Spoke the clown, closing the distance between the two once more.
“Okay then, let’s give fair a shot.”
In the blink of an eye, Jack’s body felt light again, the tension from mere seconds ago releasing his muscles as he lunged forward, his right arm sweeping in a swift arc, adrenaline speeding up his movements and caution being thrown to the wind as his sharp nails raked across the clown’s chest, too short to reach his throat, but high enough too carve deep crevices into its chest as he landed heavily.
A guttural cry rang out through the carnival and it took Jack a few moments to realise that it had originated from him, his mouth agape as he looked down, one of the clown’s claws impaling through the right side of his abdomen, tearing through his body and protruding from his back as his body shook violently, blood bubbling up his throat and dripping from the corners of his lips.
“Gah—wha-?” He hated the noises that escaped from his mouth as he froze, unable to react as the claw was retracted, accompanied by a harsh laugh.
“Whoops. Well now, don’t want you dying on me now, we’ve yet to get to the good part!” The clown smiled sardonically, and with an awkward click of his too-long fingers, the cannibal felt the wound begun to stitch itself together from the inside, the blood dribbling from the wound seemingly disintegrating into dust and floating away on the calm breeze, the pain residing to a dull throbbing as his hands clasped over the ripped material of his hoodie, the skin beneath showing no signs of outward trauma.
Taking a hesitant step backwards, Jack spared a glance over the railing, eyes scanning the ground below in search of his scalpel, though with their sheer distance from the ground the size of the medical tool, it was impossible to guarantee its location.
“If you want your little play toy back so badly, then fetch.” Puling his eyes back to the clown, the brunette threw up his arms in time to block the punch thrown at him.
The force slamming his own arms back into his chest with a dull thunk, Jack felt the force knock him off of the side of the rail, a delayed cry of shock escaping him as his hands failed to grasp the ledge, his hair blinding what little he could see as he flailed, the urge to squeeze his eyes shut strong as the ground rapidly drew closer. Turning himself as best he could, he found himself whistling past another section of track, the ledge barely registering in his mind the back of his ankle connected a section of the rusted metal frame, the impact sending a numbing pain through his nervous system, no longer able to utter a noise as he plummeted, his arms halted their search for purchase, simply trailing after his body as the ground rushed up to meet his back.
Closing his eyes, he missed the wide smile of the clown as its arm extended rapidly, hand enclosing effortlessly around Jack’s wrist before jerking him to a stop, his body slamming his weight down onto his arm, a loud serious of cracks sounding from his arm as the wrist and shoulder disconnected from their sockets, a burning agony ripping through his arm and torso as he hung, teeth grit to the point of pain in his jaw and eyes slammed shut.
Relishing the look of agony on the other male, the clown tightened his grip, feeling the grinding of the kid’s radius and ulnar beneath his hand far below.
With a giddy little giggle, the clown vanished in a cloud of smoke, reappearing on the ground beside where Jack resumed his fall, granted- he was only a few meters off of the ground this time.
Feeling the lurch in his stomach again, a wordless scream escaped the brunette as he instinctively threw his right arm beneath him to catch his fall, the second lot of snaps sounding out as the joints were forced back into place, the male crashing to the ground in an ungraceful heap, out of breath and in agony as he forced himself off of his arm and onto his back, his breath coming out in shaking gasps as the monochrome being stood off to the side, watching him struggle before waltzing over, grinning at the fleeting look of shock that passed of the boy’s un-masked face.
Pulling his long arm from the ground, he rested a white hand on the other’s chest, taking a hold of the soft and bloodied material of his jumper before hauling the limp body from the ground, Jack’s eyes half-lidded and pale-faced as his unfocused gaze remained elsewhere.
Leaving in close enough that his charcoal black hair was brushing against his face, the clown brought up his other hand, the air around it moving in a movement that mimicked heat radiating off of a road before Jack’s scalpel materialized within it.
“I think you dropped something.” With the scalpel in his left hand, the taller being cackled before jerking Jack closer by his collar, jabbing the small weapon forward and ramming it into his bruising and swollen right shoulder.
“You Bastard.” Jack growled, head shooting up as the sharp tool embedded itself in his shoulder.
Giving the scalpel a harsh twist, Jack was dropped to the ground once more before the clown turned his back and began to walk away, Jack’s vision blotchy as his left hand grasped for his weapon.
“I honestly thought you were better than that, lil’ Jackie, but I guess I was wrong.” Came an over-the-shoulder remark as the being continued on its way, not even sparing the cannibal a glance.
Feeling himself teeter on the brink of unconsciousness, Jack precariously pushed himself to his feet, stopping as the world seemed to lurch around him.
Gritting his teeth and sucking in a breath, Jack gently eased the scalpel out from his shoulder with his left hand and honed in on his abilities as a killer as he trailed along after the clown, his footsteps inaudible and his breathing shallow.
Coming up on the clown, Jack braced himself and broke into a run, his shoes miraculously not making a sound as he leapt from the ground, the scalpel in his hand arcing dangerously before connecting with the entity’s back, ripping a large gash through the flesh before landing, a flinch shuddering through him as he rolled out of the way of the clown as it whipped around, claws extended.
Getting in close to it, Jack kept his right side well-guarded and covered the limp as best he could, his knowledge of the human anatomy not quite accurate in terms of the seven foot being in front of him- but it’d have to do.
His gaze rapidly searched and pinpointed the various points in which its arteries were likely to be.
The scalpel became nothing but a blur of silver as he forced his left arm to swing it stubbornly, a slash starting across the clown’s left thumb, nicking the radial artery before flying up its arm, a large gash trailing after the weapon as the brachial artery placed near the elbow and the left subclavian artery located in the shoulder where brutally ripped open, black blood gushing freely as the smaller male ducked and weaved, dodging under and around claws and hasty punches.
Having to drop to the ground to avoid a head-on collision with a rapidly swinging arm, he suppressed a chocked gasp as he stumbled, right arm trying and failing to catch him as claws racked across his chest, throwing him back further, the back of his head connecting with the side of a run-down booth.
Laughing loudly, the clown, dripping with blood once more, waltzed over to the cannibal as he gasped for air.
Drawing his finger up through the dirt, he rested his clawed finger against Jack’s forehead, watching him twitch before falling limp, a shock akin to electricity jolting through him and halting his movement as the clown regathered his bruised arm in his talon-like fingers, unable to cry out let alone get away as his limp form was dragged across the dirt, towards a surprisingly well-kept tent in the center of the carnival.
It took a few painful seconds, but he finally regained control of his body, gripping an above-ground root and tugging his arm away from the surprisingly gentle grip, he hugged the ruined limb to his chest, the pain bypassing agony and going straight onto numb and unresponsive tingles.
“Y’know, maybe you’re not as bad as I thought you were, lil’ Jackie.” Came the disjointed words from the clown’s too-wide smile.
“But the real question is; just how much will it take to break you?”
“Try your worst.” Jack spat back arrogantly, dropping his arm to his side and flicking the scalpel in his left hand.
“Oh, I intend to.”
A sardonic cackle echoed through the carnival as Jack’s vision blacked out and he felt himself collapse to the ground, unconscious.
-----
Snapping his eyes open, he found himself leaning out from behind a tree, unable to move as he eyed the mouth of a cave, out of which a billowing gust of smoke floated up on the cool night air and into the forest in which Jack stood, his body free of pain and his vision sharper and more accurate than it had been in years.
The sound of chanting flowed out of the cave was accompanied by a the bubbling of a thin stream- barely audible to his no-longer sensitive ears, the pitter-patter of rain drowning out almost all other sounds.
The pain in his body could no longer be felt, but a sense of dread weighed heavy in his stomach as the body – his body - moved without his doing so, ducking out from behind the tree and moving to another, closer one, eyes locked onto a group of robes, features unidentifiable under the blue mask that sat upon their faces – his mask.
The fight with the clown had begun to grow hazy in his memory as he tried to figure out why this scene was making him want to turn away and run.
Words drifted through the wind and to his ears, his eyes widening and the taste of bile creeping up his throat as a storm sounded in his ears, the trees dripping water heavily onto him.
"Praise Chernobog, for his bloodstained hands will bring salvation to us ...”
He knew exactly what this was.
Now that the memory had surfaced, he could only watch on and squirm in discomfort as his pale, teenage body tried to creep through the underbrush, stopping at the edge of the forest.
"Oh my god… there really IS a cult!" He heard himself whisper, unable to move away from the group of students.
A hand gripped his shoulder, his body whipping around to face—
Jenny.
He felt himself growling, but no noise could be heard as the girl moved to stand beside him, a wide smile on her face.
"Cult? There is no cult, Jack. You're just overreacting."
‘‘No cult’ my ass, get your filthy hand off of me.’ But his mouth wouldn’t form the words he wanted to say, rather, it began blurting out nonsensical pleas about getting back to the school.
‘Move, dammit! The rock! Get out of the fucking wa-‘ A biting pain exploded from the side of his head as a rock collided with his temple, his weakened body dropping the ground like a sack of bricks.
---
In an instant, Jack’s eyes flew open once more, head throbbing painfully as a bucket of ice cold water splashed over his face, gagging him as he tried to spew up the water, eyes fearful and looking at a much too familiar scene around him, the robbed figures standing in front of him before the scene warped, Jenny crouching in front of his bound form, a spoon of all things in her hand and a fake smile plastered to her face as she muttered wordless noises.
An excruciating pain radiated from his left eye as his vision became black once more, a torturous scream ripping it way out of his throat as he thrashed about, his natural sight being taken from him for a second time as an almost molten tar substance was poured into his eyes, the crippling agony brutally throwing him off the thin thread of consciousness that he balanced.
-----
A throaty, dry gasp clawed its way into his lungs as his eyes shot open once more, the inside of the cave replaced by a giddy clown as it laughed hysterically, it’s long arms folded over his stomach as it doubled over in laughter.
The sudden pain of all of his previous wounds made themselves known once more as he scrambled to his feet, dashing away with his still-sore eyes squinted, his path guided by the sound of a haunting children’s nursery rhyme, ‘Pop goes the weasel’ as he leaped and bounded through the carnival grounds once more.
As the manic laughter of the clown grew quieter, and the chimes of the music box grew louder, a sudden burst of adrenaline through subtlety to the wind as something inside of him told him to destroy the source of the music.
Rounding a corner, Jack skidded to a halt, teetering hesitantly in front of a tiny tent, the music’s origin source – a small jack-in-a-box - sat atop a varnished table.
“Don’t touch tha-“ The clown’s voice sounded frantic behind him as he whipped out his scalpel, slamming it down through the top of the box, splinters of wood skittering across the table as it shattered, the tent and surrounding carnival beginning to fragment and distort around him, the forest that surrounded the cottage he began it coming into view as the clown let out a howling screech, too slow to stop Jack as he too began to fade away with the rest of the make-believe world.
“Till next time, lil’ Jackie...” Came the hoarse voice of the fading clown, its breathing hitched as it spoke, wrapping a stripped arm around his stomach as the frown on his face went unnoticed by Jack as he limped his way through the forest, satchel forgotten in the cottage and heavily bleeding, he scrambled through the underbrush, a whisper of a sob escaping him as he used the surrounding tree to push him forward, the cover of night and the chirping of crickets masking the thud as the exhausted male collapsed to the ground, a quiet groan escaping him before his eyes slipped closed and he fell into a dreamless, uncomforable sleep on the forest floor.