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Thursday, 23 September 2010

Fear and the Funny Guy

Rachel Guinness should never have confessed her fear to him. To relinquish that much control to a man you meet while drunk in a bar is never a good thing.


"Clowns, I am shit scared of clowns, creepy motherfuckers" She had slurred, the room already spinning, her vision not quite double but getting there.

" That's a normal fear." He had said handing her another drink, flashing her a smile, that charming debonair smile.


Now here she was, it was snowing outside, the winter arriving late and angry this year. Rachel ran, her head down, legs pumping, bare feet burning from the frozen ground. Her break left thick clouds hanging on the air making like look like a steam train was making its way through the public gardens. Behind her, Rachel could hear his footsteps pounding the ground. That cackling laugh ringing in her ears. It was dark, the snow was falling, Rachel's hair fell into her face further blinding her, yet she refused to slow her pace. The ground underfoot finally felt softer, she had left the concrete sidewalk and entered the gardens themselves.


"Make yourself comfortable" He had said breaking their embrace. They were standing in the bedroom of his trendy, expensively furnished apartment.

"Don't be long." Rachel had giggled at him, kicking off her shoes and unbuttoning her tight jeans before he had even turned to walk away.

"Oh I won't, I've got a surprise for you." He winked at her and disappeared into the bathroom.

Rachel had slipped out of her clothes, and into his bed sheets, the buzz from the alcohol had subsided enough to make her conscious of her actions.


"Come on baby. Come give me a kiss." He screamed as he followed in hot pursuit. His feet made slapping noises on the pavement, but were soon muffled by the frozen grass.

He's right behind me Rachel told herself, ignoring the burning stitch in her side. She was still wearing nothing but her underwear, her nipples were so hard that they hurt, pressing against the material of her bra.


"What's taking you so long?" She had called to him after five minutes of waiting and self arousal. "Are you ok?" She had gotten out of bed and walked towards the door when it opened suddenly and he jumped into the room.

Rachel had screamed, she had fallen over she remembered that, because she was on the floor when he reached to grab her for the firs time, that smile spread across his face once again.

Luckily the door had been unlocked and she ran out, out of the apartment, out of the building and into the night.


Rachel ran into the maze without really even thinking about it. She had played there often enough growing up to know its twists and turns like the back of her own hand. Even in her blind panic she knew her way. Behind her his laugh had become a growl.

She reached the centre of the maze and stopped. Where to go from here? The bandstand was the obvious choice, but left her with no place to turn. Instead she chose to crawl on all fours beneath the steps, sliding on her belly across the frozen ground in order to get completely hidden.

She lay waiting, holding her breath, her heart thundering in her chest like a wild bull at the rodeo waiting for the gate to open and let it loose.

The moon cast en eerie light onto everything, it was snowing harder now, and Rachel couldn't help but shiver against the cold.

She didn't hear him coming, or even see him until he was standing in the centre of the maze. His face painted white, his nose red and round, lips painted across his face in a large red smile - although to Rachel it looked more like a grimace -. His clothes were too big for him, his shoes absurdly large, as was the flower that stood from the breast pocket of his luminous yellow shirt. He was panting, breathing hard, resting his hands on his knees, only letting go to straighten the blue curly wig and bowler hat which kept slipping from his head if he leant too far forward.

He didn't know where she was, and she held her breath, forcing herself to ignore the agony in her chest and the numbness in her legs that was slowly spreading up towards her torso.

"Bitch." He screamed at the night air, following up with a horrifically comical laugh. He scratched at he side of his head just beneath the wig with his right and, and it was then that Rachel saw the blade, glinting in the moonlight like a diamond.

Leave, please leave She wished, closing her eyes for a moment, only to open them suddenly, certain that he would have seen her. He didn't, but he didn't leave either. He sat down for a while on the steps, he smoked a cigarette, he took a piss and then left, holding the wig and bowler hand in his hands as he walked away his head down staring at the ground.

Rachel waited, not wanting to move before she was certain that he was gone, she was so tired, she couldn't fight it any longer and eventually fell asleep.

The next morning after her near naked body had been discovered by a group of school children enjoying a cold Sunday morning, there were many rumors about what had happened to her, but nothing could ever be thought of that explained the large red smile that had been pained across her face nor the large fake flower that had been laid across her chest.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Really great!