Clown Apocalypse Page 4

  "Fantastic job guys! Line them up!" she said. "Get their panties off, let's see some asses! Oh, Stinky honey, that's a guy you got there. He can't have clown babies."

  Stinky shrugged and patted the large man on the ass.

  "He's got a big juicy ass! I wanna see what it feels like." Stinky said.

  "Ok honey. Just find you a nice girl after ok? Ready boys?"

  The clowns all took out their deformed clown cocks with big red bulbs on the ends of each. Their victims struggled, but the clowns were too powerful as they each made entry. Stinky fucking his victim in the ass, but all in a beastly synchronization of doggy-style pounding. There was a collective scream among them all as they continued their clown fuck fest. Almost in unison, each clown climaxed at the same time, and the victims screamed as the clowns filled them with their thick clown jizz.

  They all pulled out and danced around as the women struggled to their feet. Though one by one, they fell to the ground writhing, holding their stomachs. They screamed in pain while Stinky's victim, the fat guy stumbled away from the table. His asshole was stretched out to the point that it appeared like a huge black hole in the middle of his back. He tripped over one of the women, and as he stumbled, his bowels let loose; dousing her in a putrid pile of shit-jizz as he fell backward and slid in his own horrific mess.

  One girl let out a blood-curdling shriek as her stomach began moving, and huge lumps appeared in the center before her flesh tore open. A naked clown, the size of a toddler, climbed out of the bloody opening and began running up and down the convention center. Shortly after the other women followed suit. Their stomachs were ripping open as naked clown babies tore their way free and squealed while running around the aisles. They were all pasty white and smeared with blood as their "moms" all lie dead on the floor. Somehow, the fat guy died in all this, probably from a heart attack.

  Kate jumped up and down watching the mayhem as the older clowns chased around the babies trying to corral them, but the little ones weren't having it. One baby clown found a man hiding under a nearby table and proceed to chew on his face, ripping his nose off with its razor sharp teeth. Another was running and sliding across the floor in the blood that had pooled around.

  "All right!" Kate screamed. "Now this is a party!"

  Chapter 11

  From the time Damien left Houston, something didn't feel right. Happytown was nothing but waste and rubble after Mad Maxwell had been through there. Why would Kate go back there? Part of him kept thinking of the things Maxwell had talked about. Was there any hidden meaning in any of it? Was it all bullshit? When he arrived at San Antonio, he stopped and pulled out his phone.

  Mad Maxwell emphasized how much they loved chaos. Not to mention even though he personally hated carnivals and circuses, the clowns, in general, loved that type of environment. The festive, somewhat chaotic events where they could blend in and even be celebrated. He did a google search for circuses or carnivals in the area. Nothing substantial came up. He did another for events and several of those came up.

  One, in particular, got his attention. Permian Basin Horror Fest. There was a whole list of events and activities at this event, plus it was in Odessa which was about as far away from anything as you could get and still be in Texas. Not to mention it was almost a five-hour drive. Looking through there were some other conventions that weekend, a small comic convention was nearby and an anime convention near Dallas.

  For some reason, the horror convention made the most sense. Kate was crazy and loved to inflict fear, pain, and suffering. Not to mention clowns like Kate were completely fucking terrifying. So, to Damien, a horror convention would seem more up her alley. According to the website, the show started Friday. He called into Jericho's switchboard until an operator answered.

  "Yes, this is Tracker Damien Carter, my Tracker ID is 427991."

  "Ok. You're verified," the operator said.

  "I need you to check police logs. Odessa, Texas. Any calls of any unusual disturbances in the last twenty-four hours?"

  "Checking now," she said as Damien heard the faint sound of the tapping of keys on a keyboard. "Ok, there were a few 911 calls of a disturbance at the convention center. Not many details yet."

  "How long ago?" Damien asked.

  "About an hour ago."

  Fuck.

  "Ok. Thank you." He hung up and peeled out, heading to Odessa. He wondered why Maxwell would have tried to send him to Happytown other than to slow him down. Did he have something waiting on him there? It was unlikely. It was a waste of time talking to Maxwell other than getting some kind of read on the mythical clown. After all the horror stories he'd heard, he finally confirmed every single one of them and then some.

  On a normal day, it would be about four and a half hours. Damien was able to make it in just over three hours. He only had to make two stops and luckily never got pulled over. When he arrived at the convention center, local police were in the parking lot and walking around the building. Damien parked and reached in the glove box, thumbing through his ID's. He pulled out his FBI one. He had a Texas Rangers ID, but he rarely used it.

  For one, he didn't have a cowboy hat to wear, which would raise suspicion. Second, he found a lot of cops in Texas knew people on the Rangers. So he figured it best to keep it federal. If they had to call anyone to verify, he gave them a number that routed straight to Jericho that would confirm his story. Damien climbed out of the car and stretched his legs as he approached one of the officers and showed his ID.

  "Hey, Special Agent with the FBI. Who's in charge of the scene?" Damien asked. The officer pointed to an older cop nearby that was walking toward him and again identified himself.

  "FBI? I never called you," the man said. He had captain bars on his collar and name tag read "Sutton."

  "Yeah, I was sent here after you all arrived. Word has it a fugitive we've been looking for might be one of the subjects inside. What do you have so far?"

  "Not a lot. No gunshots, it's been quiet, but all the doors are locked. One officer said he heard screaming earlier but nothing since we got here."

  "You didn't try to make entry?"

  "We're waiting on a warrant. I called the DA. He said it's not an active shooter, but it is suspicious. All these cars here yet total silence."

  Damien looked at the building and then back to the captain.

  "I'm going to suggest you guys don't go in," he said.

  "Why would you suggest that?"

  "Because the person I'm looking for is extremely dangerous and requires a very, um…specific type of approach."

  "Oh really? And who is this person?"

  "I'm afraid that is classified. But trust me on this."

  "Look here Special Agent," Captain Sutton said. "This is Texas. We don't need the Feds to come around here to save our asses. If you got someone in there on a Federal warrant, then great. Tell me who it is and we'll round them up. I've been doing this for thirty-five years. Never needed the FBI to bail me out yet. In the meantime, I suggest you stay out of our way. This is my jurisdiction."

  Damien didn't want to say too much but didn't want to see these cops walk into a bloodbath either.

  "Captain I—"

  "I'm about to arrest you myself for obstruction," the Captain said. "FBI or not this is my scene, and you're starting to interfere. Maybe you're new around here but we don't have a lot of trust in the Federal Government. So you want to move on out of the way so I can do my job before I get more pissed off at your presents."

  Damien nodded and stepped back. He knew some agencies were harder than others against the Feds. Maybe he should have used the Texas Ranger badge after all. After a few minutes, a squad car came racing up and stopped near the captain's car. A man climbed out, handing him a piece of paper. Sutton looked it over and nodded.

  "Ok boys. We got our warrant. Prepare to make entry!"

  Chapter 12

  Mad Maxwell watched his fingernail grow an additional inch just before placing it against his thick plasti
c cell. His nails were incredibly sharp and sturdier than most cutting materials. No one else knew that of course. He always liked to keep a little something to himself. Fact is, he could have broken out of here ages ago had he chose to. The problem was he had nowhere to be in any rush, and he was mostly comfortable in this little box.

  The tracker's visit changed all that. Damien made Maxwell long for his sweet Kate and her company. Though their time together had been short-lived, he knew there had to be a future there. Once his nail was extended, he pressed it against the clear, plastic wall. Although, this material wasn't plastic it was much stronger, not that it would matter to him.

  He ran his nail from the ground up just above his head, over and back down cutting into the shape of a door. Thick hard shavings fell around him as he cut away. He had to make several passes, as it was very solid. After the fifth pass around, he stood back, admiring his work before unleashing a kick to the makeshift door. The section flew away leaving a fresh opening. He stepped outside, taking a deep breath as the cool air blew across his skin and face. There was very little ventilation in the box, so the fresher air felt good.

  He jumped the short barricade and headed up the stairs. When he reached the top, he peeked into the hallway to find Henry sitting at his desk. Poor Henry. The guy didn't realize he was dead the instant they assigned him to look after Mad Maxwell. Maxwell stepped out and cleared his throat. Henry turned, and his eyes went wide when he saw the clown.

  "Mr. Maxwell! You're out? How…how did you—"

  "Oh stop stuttering Henry. You didn't think they'd keep me there forever did you?"

  "No. I mean I don't know. Please don't hurt me. I always treated you with respect. Please?"

  Maxwell was amused with his groveling. Of course he was going to kill the man. Henry was right, though, he'd always treated him with respect and kindness so he'd do the man a solid and give him a quick death.

  "I won't hurt you, Henry, I promise. It won't hurt a bit," Maxwell said as he extended his hand to shake Henry's. Reluctantly, Henry put his hand out, and they shook. Using his other hand with the elongated nail, Maxwell cut Henry's arm open from wrist to elbow. Henry's eyes went wide as blood sprayed Maxwell's jumpsuit. Maxwell maintained his grip on Henry's hand as the color flushed from the man's face, still looking at Maxwell in both shock and betrayal.

  "See Henry? I told you it wouldn't hurt." Maxwell said as Henry collapsed into Maxwell's arms. The clown gently put Henry on the floor and watched as the man bled out. Once he was gone, Maxwell dug through his pockets and removed his car keys and headed to the elevator. At the ground floor, he wasn't as polite to the rest of the Jericho staff. Security pulled a gun on him and shot him in the chest which had no effect on him at all other than knocking him a little off balance. He took the gun away from the guard and shot him twice in the face.

  Other staff ran for their lives, but Maxwell ran after them. Some he sliced up with his fingernail, some he bit their faces completely off or shot until the bullets were no more. Once he was satisfied with the carnage, he went to the parking lot, hitting the keyless remote until he heard the chirp of a door unlocking. Henry's car was a black Taurus. Not exactly Maxwell's style but it would work.

  He climbed in and started the engine. Looking at himself in the mirror, his crooked smile was smeared with blood. Biting people wasn't his first choice of killing. Far too primitive and barbaric, but the situation called for improvisation, so Mad Maxwell had no problem doing what was necessary. His orange jumpsuit was soaked in blood as well.

  At first, he thought he should change clothes, but then again he was a clown so not like he was going to blend in no matter what he wore. He put the car in drive and headed out of the parking lot toward Odessa. It would be a long drive, but worth it to find his Kate. He wondered if Damien had reached Happytown yet. He figured that would keep him chasing his tail for a while anyway. Unless the guy was smart enough not to trust him. After all, if Mad Maxwell were someone else, he wouldn't trust him either.

  The drive took much longer than he'd feared. He also hadn't accounted for running out of gas every few hundred miles. That was easy. He just stopped off and waited for a Good Samaritan to stop and take their car; all of which was much easier than he'd anticipated. When he reached the outskirts of Odessa, he stopped at a McDonalds. He figured he could use a bite to eat.

  He climbed out of the car and looked around when he saw a mom and little boy coming out of the restaurant. The mom had bags of food in one hand and her son's hand in the other. The little boy spotted him and pointed.

  "Mommy look! It's Ronald McDonald! Why's he all bloody?" the boy said.

  "Because, I ate the Hamburgler!" Maxwell said.

  The woman screamed, dropped the food and picked up her son and ran straight to their car. He watched in amusement as she climbed and peeled out of the parking lot. Once they were gone, he picked up the bags of food and walked back to his car munching on a french fry as he walked. Max pondered the ease of everything thus far and felt he needed to release some pent up energy from the long car ride. Max began to whistle Dixie as he strolled into the restaurant.

  Chapter 13

  Kate laughed watching the baby clowns run up and down the convention hall. They were rooting out all the hiding convention goers. One of the tiny clowns was chasing a guy in a Deadpool costume around. The Deadpool guy had a plastic sword out swatting at the clown, but this obviously had no effect. Turning a corner, the Deadpool guy slipped on a pool of blood and face planted had on the floor. He tried getting to his feet but the little clown was on him in seconds.

  The tiny clown bit into his stomach, tearing through fabric and flesh. The guy in the costume screamed as he flopped around. The little clown ripped into his stomach and pulled intestines out, stringing them along the floor. Kate giggled as she watched the bloody, gory sight. Nolan remained in his hiding spot watching the whole thing. There had to be a few thousand people in the convention center, most of them now were lined along the walls looking terrified. One woman screamed and ran for one of the doors. She reached it but found it locked.

  She began kicking the door when one of the bigger clowns walked over, grabbed her by the head and snapped her neck in a quick and sudden motion. Her body slumped to the floor as the crowd around her screamed. The clown stepped over her body and looked at the crowd with his finger over his lips saying, "Shhhhh!"

  Nolan had thought of making a break for it but seeing the woman's futile attempt made him think otherwise. Besides that, his own fear had him firmly frozen in place. It was sheer luck so far the clowns hadn't spotted him. That or they had but were just holding off on killing him. He'd moved further back against the barrier after Chris had run out from under the table.

  Kate picked up the microphone again when there was a loud crashing sound near the end of the convention center. One of the doors burst off its hinges as several cops burst in wearing tactical gear and carrying an assortment of firepower. The crowd near the door screamed and dove out of the way, though some of them may have fallen as the cops stormed in. There was at least ten cops Nolan counted.

  "Thank God!" he said to himself as they ran in. Another convention goer in yet another Deadpool costume, (there were many Deadpools at these things) ran up to the cops screaming for help. Problem was he was holding his prop gun in his hand. One of the officers turned and fired a burst of rounds into the Deadpool's chest, sending him flying backward. The cop froze as more people screamed.

  "Everybody on the ground!" The cops shouted. "Get down everyone! Hands on your heads!" The crowd did as they were told. Nolan stayed put since they were still a good ways from him. Kate and the other clowns looked around at each other confused. One of the tiny clowns ran at the cops and leaped at them. They fired a burst of rounds, hitting it in the face and exploding its head. The clown fell to the floor dead as the cops moved through the building.

  Kate screamed when she saw one of her new babies killed. That was the same time the cops came upon th
e carnage in the center of the building. The dead bodies of Chris and Casey as well as the "mothers" of the baby clowns and their mutilated abdomens.

  "Oh my God," one of the officers said. Another cop fell out of formation and threw up at the bloody sight. The sound of him puking made Nolan's own stomach lurch. Kate and her sons walked up to the cops slowly and stood around them in a horseshoe. Kate had her bat in her hand while each clown had their other various blunt or sharp weapons.

  "Freeze!" The lead officer said as he looked Kate up and down. Kate stood and put her hands halfway in the air, still holding the bat. "Who are you people?" The cop asked trying to hide his own fear. Despite their heavy duty military gear, they were small town cops. They weren't used to this kind of thing. Kate knew it and the cop could tell she knew it. He adjusted his grip on his rifle as she smiled.

  "Well," she said. "I'm Icy Kate, and these are my babies. We're a family!"

  "Family of what?"

  "Clowns silly!"

  "Whatever, get on the ground."

  "Are you sure honey? Tell you what. You boys turn around and go back out that door. I promise neither me or my boys will hurt you," Kate said.

  The cop swallowed as he took a step in her direction, but she lowered the bat slightly, and he stopped.

  "Yes. First drop the bat."

  "The what?"

  "The bat. Drop the bat. Tell your boys to drop their weapons too."

  "If you say so," she said as she let go of the bat. It fell behind her, just over her shoulder. Before it hit the ground, she kicked her heel up, hitting the handle which flipped the bat into a one-eighty. She grabbed the handle from mid-air and hurled the bat side-arm at the cops. The bat was spinning horizontally like a propeller striking each cop in the face going right down the line. A few stray gunshots sounded as they each toppled to the ground.

  Once they were all to the ground, the bat fell to the floor behind them with a loud clank. Kate's boys descended on the downed officers like a pack of lions on a downed zebra. They began hacking and pounding away with their clubs, mallets and knives. Nolan covered his eyes and thought for sure he was going to start crying. Kate bent down and picked up one of the cops helmets and put it on her head. The other clowns each grabbed the cops' rifles and side arms and slung them over their shoulders or stuffed the handguns into their clown suits somehow. Kate picked up a hand gun and pressed it against her cheek before skipping back to the center of the hall and picking up the microphone again.