Written by Lilith
I grabbed onto the edges of the filing cabinet, pushing my feet into the floor and straining my back to pull it towards me, in front of the door. Across from me Sara pushed it along, but it wasn’t moving fast enough, and we could hear the telltale sound of jingling coming down the corridor… ching, ching, ching with his footsteps. He knew where we were, and was in no hurry. Sara let out a little cry as the cabinet slid into place, and I shoved it a little more to my left, close up against the door. Like it’d slow him down.
This office was a dead end and we knew it. No windows, and only one door, which led straight to him. I glanced around the place, looking for a hiding place – no, damn, like he’d fall for that – or a weapon – what good would that be? There was a fire-extinguisher on the wall. I grabbed it, not even sure what was the best way to hold it, and turned my gaze back to the door.
Ching… the sound of his footsteps were closer than ever, right up to the door, when they stopped. I stared at Sara. She was shaking.
“The Mirthful Messiahs Are Upon Us” the clown whispered. I readied the extinguisher.
“What are you going to do with that, bonk him on the head?” Sara whispered, ever useful.
“Do you have any better ideas?” I hissed back. He could probably hear us but whatever.
“Well, yes.” She clambered onto the desk and yanked the ventilation panel clean off. I stared at her skinny frame and nodded.
“I’ll slow him down. There’s no way I can fit in there.”
She looked like she was about to object when the filing cabinet began to buckle. The clown was coming and there was nothing we could do to stop it.
“When you get out of here,” I calmly told her, “head North.” Then I shook my head and mouthed ‘South’. She nodded, her eyes full of sadness.
“Just go already!”
She hoisted herself up into the ventilation shaft pretty fast. I guess years of gymnastics will do that to you. I returned my focus to the filing cabinet a second before it fell, and the door flew off its hinges to reveal an angry and very bloody clown.
He was seven foot tall, with huge, curly purple hair. He wore enormous jester shoes adorned with tiny silver bells, bright yellow but bloodstained trousers so wide they nearly filled the doorway, and a red flower decorating his lime green shirt. Blood was smudged in circles on his cheeks, and his grin was complete with vicious black teeth, filed to a point.
“Hello, Precious” he snarled. He opened his palms to reveal twin throwing knives, the same pair that had slit Jamie’s throat and pinned Hayley’s arm to the ground for long enough for him to beat her to death with a desktop computer. I decided not to think about that. I raised the extinguisher a little higher, not sure yet if I was using it as a shield or a weapon.
He approached slowly, stepping over the filing cabinet as though it wasn’t there. His shoes jingled merrily as he walked.
“Only One Left?”
I nodded tentatively, then raised the extinguisher to parry as he threw his first knife. It was a lucky guess, and I knocked it aside, but the second caught me sharp in the side. It clattered to the ground but the damage was already done, and my shirt reddened with the fresh blood. God damn.
“Hey, why don’t we talk about this?” I suggested. She couldn’t have got far yet.
“We’ve Talked Enough” the clown said, and reached for his juggling clubs.