Clown Apocalypse Read online

  "Oh my God! Are you Nolan Collinsworth?" the blonde asked.

  "Yes, I am," he said with his best smile. Both girls giggled

  "See?" the blonde said to the brunette. "I told you! We saw you on Celebrity Fat ass a few years ago. You were so hilarious!"

  Great.

  "Oh yeah?" he said, immediately wanting to either curl up in a ball and die, or find a gun and immediately blow his brains out. Hey, this was Texas, good chance someone in the bar had a gun they'd loan him for a second.

  "Yes! When you did that cake wrestling and your tights slid off! That was so funny, all that chocolate cake stuck to your ass." Now they were laughing uncontrollably.

  "Yeah. Thank you. You ladies have a good night." He stood and headed for the door. As he walked out, he could hear the girls still laughing behind him. If that was any indication, tomorrow was going to be a really long day. Stepping outside, he stopped and lit a cigarette. Taking a few drags calmed his nerves. He'd mostly quit smoking a few years ago, but occasionally he lit one up.

  It was beginning to get dark out, but he did notice how cool the sunset looked. He didn't remember seeing the sky look so clean and pleasant in L.A. To be fair, out there he never really stopped to look at the sky. He heard someone laughing again, but this wasn't the girls. It sounded like a guy. Turning his head to his left, there was a clown standing on the street corner holding a set of balloons.

  Nolan was terrified of clowns. Ever since he was a kid, a few years before Family Night came out. His mom had taken him to a circus. The clowns were already scary enough to him as a little kid, let alone the big tall ones on stilts. One stood over him looking down. The guy may as well have been a hundred feet tall to a six-year-old. Nolan had screamed and hid behind his mom. Another bent down honking his stupid horn in Nolan's face that only made him cry more. The clown had tried doing some magic tricks, but Nolan was having none of it. Ever since that time, he'd hated clowns or anything having anything to do with clowns. Part of him wondered if someone wasn't fucking with him. Could it be Pierce? Pierce wouldn't do something like that, and if he did, Nolan would kick his ass.

  The clown was tall and wearing a yellow suit. He had a big red nose but no hair. His red painted smile looked odd. It was much bigger than most clown smiles. Went almost to his ears. When he really smiled, his teeth were yellow and brown, as if they were rotting. The clown lifted a gloved hand and waved at Nolan. The whole sight made Nolan shudder. He looked away and took another drag as he quickly walked across the street. Looking over his shoulder, the strange clown disappeared...again.

  Chapter 5

  Damien Carter worked his way through the crowd of officers outside the motel. He finally reached the door to the room where he showed his FBI credentials once again. He wasn't really FBI, however. He was a tracker with Jericho Systems. Jericho is a research and development company who at various points in history had studied and run tests on clowns like Icy Kate. The clowns themselves were a race that pre-dated Jericho by a long shot, but Jericho has in some ways made them what they are today.

  "Why are the feds in on this?" One detective asked. He walked over to Damian with his hands on his hips. "This is our jurisdiction."

  "I know," Damien said. "I'm only here to observe and gather some info. This M.O. matches the one of a serial killer I've been tracking. I'm just looking to see if it's her."

  The detective looked him up and down for a minute before answering.

  "Well, this was done by a 'her' all right. Come on in and have a look," the detective said as he stepped aside. Damien walked into the room and marveled at the amount of blood. There was blood on the walls, ceiling, and sheets. The dead man on the bed was naked. His genitals had been mutilated to the point of resembling raw hamburger. His eyes were gouged out, chest ripped open, and his heart, liver, and intestines were strewn about the room. There was a rat in the corner gnawing on a piece of intestine. The victim's heart was hanging on the wall, stuck there with a pen.

  "Jesus," Damien said. He'd been tracking Icy Kate for months now. She'd left some ugly scenes behind, but nothing like this. She was getting worse, but why? Was she angrier? No telling at what. He was suspecting there were other clowns with her. The carnage left behind at these scenes was way too much for one person to have achieved, even a mutant clown. He knew they could procreate quickly, so perhaps she's been building herself a little 'clown' family. Not likely, she just found other clowns to join on her rampages.

  "You ok there Fed?" the detective asked. "You're not looking so hot."

  He was feeling queasy, and apparently was looking sick as well.

  "Oh, yeah I'm fine. I just ate lunch is all."

  "You really think this is a serial killer? I've had a few dead johns the past few weeks, but nothing that looked like this. It's weird though. Usually, we get dead hookers. Not dead johns. Maybe the hookers have had enough?"

  "I guess so. Not sure what they expect shopping for prostitutes on Craigslist anyway," Damien answered.

  Damien walked around the hotel room. There were chunks of skin lying on the floor along with the blood and organs. Damien looked around the bathroom where he found a strand of green hair in the sink. After examining under the light, it tucked it into his pocket. It was Kate's he was sure of it. No need to let the cops find her hair.

  He walked out of the bathroom and out of the motel completely. Once in his car he sat and looked at the hair again. Unfortunately, the hair won't tell him where she may be. This was the fourth similar killing in the area, but this was the most brutal. In past towns, this had been her method; posing as a prostitute, only to kill her clients, each time more savagely than the first. The last one, she really tore up and then skipped town only to repeat it again in another city.

  One town, Damien had tried to find her on Craigslist by posing as a client. None of the girls he picked out was Kate. You'd think finding a girl who physically looks like a clown would be easy. Not like she blends into a crowd. Yet, she'd managed to fly below the radar no matter where she goes. Damien gazed at the hair one last time before rubbing his eyes and returning it back to his pocket. It was getting late, and he'd barely slept the past few days. He'd asked the executives at Jericho for some help in finding her, but after Mad Maxwell and April Kennedy had their epic fight at the Dallas building, they've been restructuring and rebuilding. In other words, he wasn't getting any help any time soon.

  He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot and onto the freeway. It was time to head back to Jericho anyway. There was someone who might help him if he can convince him to assist. Not sure yet how he'd do that, but since Mad Maxwell had created Kate, Damien suspected he'd have some insight on how to find her.

  He'd never actually spoken to Mad Maxwell. Very few people had. He was being kept in a bunker beneath the basement of Jericho's Houston location. It was a few hours away, but if he left now, he'd be there by morning. It was possible that Mad Maxwell wasn't actually there. The powers that be at Jericho had never officially confirmed he was there. It was one of those non-secret secrets like the stealth bomber. Everyone knew it existed for ages before the government admitted to it. He'd heard from some other trackers that Mad Maxwell was in fact located there.

  Then there was the actual process of getting in to see him. Odds are he was pretty well guarded and after the war in the Dallas office, Jericho didn't mess around with security.

  First thing was first the drive, and that ended up going rather quickly. Once he was on Jericho grounds, his stomach began to tighten up as his nerves took over. Not only was he coming home empty handed, but he was about to seek help from the most dangerous being ever to exist. The whole thing could be a big mistake, but if he didn't get results, he'd be a dead man anyway.

  Chapter 6

  Nolan arrived at the venue just as the convention was getting started. Chris drove him there and walked him in through the back entrance. As they pulled up, he was shocked to see such a long line around the building.

&
nbsp; "Check it out man," Chris said. "They're all here for you. We sold out of your VIP tickets."

  "Wow, seriously?"

  "Yeah! Why you sound so surprised?"

  "I don't know. Guess I've been out of the game too long. A few girls at a bar last night said they recognized me from Celebrity Fat Ass. That show wasn't my most shining moment."

  "Yeah don't worry about them. You have a lot of horror fans here from Family Night. You were a creepy ass kid in that movie."

  "Ha, thanks. I don't remember a lot of it. Most of it is a blur. It was like playing slasher or something."

  "Well you nailed it dude," Chris said as they pulled up to the back door. As they headed inside, Chris took him to the green room where there was food and beverages set up. Nolan grabbed a water as Chris walked him to his table. There was a huge banner set up with his picture now, and a picture of himself as Jeffery from Family Night. He was rather impressed by it. Once he got to the table, there was already a long line waiting for him.

  He sat down and began signing. For the next several hours, he signed pictures, books, posters and many other things. There was even an action figure of himself he didn't even know existed. It was all going smoothly until he looked up at the next girl, dressed as a clown.

  "Hi!" she said. "I'm such a huge fan. I love all of your work," the clown girl said. He tried his best to keep his fear of clowns at bay as he swallowed hard while looking her up and down. This one was an anomaly. Her hair was jet black, and the clown makeup was terrifying. Yet, she wore a button up shirt that was buttoned up halfway and tied around her waist along with a pair of tight shorts. She had white makeup on all of her skin which he found disturbing; she had really gone all out. He wasn't sure if he should be aroused or terrified

  "Would you, um…like an autograph?" he asked.

  "Sure!" she squealed

  "What would you like me to sign?"

  She undid the buttons at the top of her shirt and pulled it open while leaning down.

  "Right there," she said.

  He reached up, his hand trembling and signed his name in sharpie across her tits. She giggled as he signed them and even bounced up and down once he finished.

  "Wow! Thank you! So, I guess I'm yours now."

  "What do you mean?" he asked.

  "You branded me with your name. That means I'm all yours!"

  "Uhhh…." He wasn't even sure what to say. Thankfully, there was a convention staff member nearby.

  "Ma'am, thank you, but can you let the next person go now."

  "Oh sure!" she said as she stepped aside, waving at Nolan. "Catch ya later cutie pie!" she said as she walked away. Nolan told the staff member he needed a short break, so they walked him back to the green room where he grabbed another water. That clown chick had shaken him up, unbelievably bad. He wondered if she was with that clown, she'd seen walking around the night before. Once he got his composure back, he returned to his table. Before he sat down, he looked around and saw several clowns around the convention floor. The one he'd seen near the bar last night was standing by a table making balloon animals for kids. For the life of him, Nolan had no idea why those kids weren't running away screaming. He was fifty feet away and wanted to run from the thing.

  He signed dozens more autographs over the next several hours before the convention closed up for the day. Thankfully, this was only a few hours. Saturday would be almost twelve hours long. He wasn't sure if he could handle it, but so far it had been mostly fun. Other than the weird clown girl. He'll probably have nightmares just from her.

  Throughout the day, he was impressed with most of the costumes. He saw Freddy, Michael, Jason, a wolf man, Frankenstein and some he didn't recognize. A few people showed up with skin masks like he wore in Family Night and had him sign the masks. He found that a bit creepy. Nolan didn't even know what happened to those original masks. He remembered being scared of it the first time he saw it. His mom and the director assured him it was all for fun. Once he wore it for a bit, he was fine. Though seeing them after all these years, it felt odd.

  One of the event staff drove him back to the hotel where he grabbed something to eat and flipped on the TV. It had been a long day, and Saturday would be even longer. It was a good time to get some rest. On the news, he faintly heard about a string of murders near Dallas involving a prostitute on Craigslist cutting up her clients in the most horrific ways. Nolan watched the story and shook his head. Only a loser would try to buy sex off Craigslist. Those guys were just asking for it. That was the good thing about being a D-list celebrity. Even when there was no work, there was always plenty of ass. Granted, it maybe not premium tail, but it was better than his hand or paying for it.

  He turned off the TV and closed his eyes. It was a matter of minutes before he was asleep. Sadly, the night before his big day wasn't a restful one. It was a night filled with dreams of blood, violence...and clowns.

  Chapter 7

  Getting in to see Mad Maxwell wasn't as hard as he'd feared. The attendant in the basement of Jericho knew who I was and that I was on the hunt for Icy Kate. He didn't look like he got out much and was just happy to see a new face.

  "Yeah Mr. Carter, I'll take you right to him," the man said. His name was Henry.

  "Is he here? In the basement?"

  "No sir. He's beneath the basement. A few stories below in a special holding chamber built just for him."

  "Wow, not taking any chances are they?"

  "No sir." Henry walked them to a freight elevator and pushed a button that said "A" on the lift. "Some quick rules before you go down there. He's sealed in a solid cell. Nothing goes in or out. There is a four-foot chain link fence around his unit. You do not lean over or go around or past the fence at all, ever for any reason. He'll try to talk you into it too, trust me."

  "So he stays in a tiny box 24/7?"

  "Yep."

  "No exercise?"

  "No sir."

  "What does he eat?"

  "I trap rats down here and give them to him as I catch them. He eats them pretty quickly," Henry said.

  "Isn't that inhumane?"

  "I'm sure it is. But he's not human. Follow the rules and you'll do just fine. Last time, I was down there he didn't even look at me. He just sat there staring off into space. So, no telling what mood he'll be in. Good luck."

  Henry pulled the lever, and the elevator descended into the huge black hole. It didn't move very fast, and Damien wondered how far down it was. Finally, there was a single light at the bottom as the elevator came to a stop. Just ahead was a small cell that looked like glass, but was probably some kind of thick plastic or something. Strong enough Mad Maxwell couldn't break out. There was a single light bulb dangling just a few feet in front of the cell on a chain. The fence was there just as Henry had mentioned.

  Damien stepped off the elevator and made his way toward Mad Maxwell's cell. Maxwell was sitting down Indian style with his back to Damien. He had on an orange jumpsuit. His bright red hair was sticking up in all directions. Damien reached the barricade and cleared his throat.

  "Um, excuse me. Mr. Maxwell? I'm Damien Carter. I'm a tracker with Jericho."

  Maxwell didn't move or make a sound as Damien waited for a response.

  "Maxwell? Can you hear me? I'm Damien—"

  Mad Maxwell stood and spoke as he slowly turned.

  "And this was the reason that, long ago,

  In this kingdom by the sea,

  A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

  My beautiful Annabel Lee;

  So that her highborn kinsmen came

  And bore her away from me,

  To shut her up in a sepulchre

  In this kingdom by the sea.”

  Damien recognized it as a verse from "Annabel Lee" by Edgar Allan Poe. The clown finished turning and was now facing Damien, who took a step back at the sight of the creature. Mad Maxwell's huge red smile was in some deformed smirk. His eyes were wide and teeth were brown and decayed. There were what appeared to be wri
nkly bags under his eyes, or they were naturally black and saggy. He didn't look like any typical circus clown for sure. Mad Maxwell began to laugh, as he looked Damien up and down.

  "Heh, heh, heh, heh, good evening Damien. Did you like my little serenade? Are you a fan of Poe and his Annabel Lee?"

  "I'm familiar with him and the poem," Damien said as his throat went dry.

  "Good. That's why you're here isn't it? For my beloved Icy Kate? My Annabel Lee? You looking to find her to take her away from me?"

  "I'm looking for her. Looks like she's already been taken away from you."

  "Oh, now that is where you are wrong young tracker. She is out, free like the lovely bird she is. I am merely waiting for the right moment for us to reunite."

  Either he was totally delusional or just trying to fuck with Damien's head. Either way, the head fucking was working.

  "So how can I help you, Damien? You think I know where she is?"

  "I think you know how to find her."

  "And why would you think that?"

  "You made her. Most of you clowns have some kind of psychic or mental link to those you've created; or so I've heard. I thought maybe you could reach out and see if you could sense her or however it works."

  "And just why would I help you do that? Help you capture my sweet little bird, my Annabel Lee, and lock her away like you've done to me?"

  "She's dangerous, to herself and others. At least if I bring her in, she'll be safe. Hell, maybe they'll put her in there with you."

  "Ha!" his laugh was so loud it made Damien jump. "Do you even know where I came from? Or anything about us clowns?"

  "Just what I've read in Jericho's files. They've been studying you for quite a while."

  "No, no, no. I'll tell you what. I'll help you. But first, you need a lesson."

  "What kind of lesson?"

  "Let's call it Clown 101. I suggest you pull up a seat. What Jericho has on me doesn't even scratch the surface. I'm so much more than what they think. Kate is even more special, yet she's just a baby in clown years."