The fairgrounds were sparsely populated at the moment. It was perfect. That meant no lines, no waiting of any kind. I ran over to the arcade, only a few machines were occupied. I slapped two quarters into my favorite game and began playing. The game started and then immediately crashed and rebooted.
Gritting my teeth, I popped another fifty cents in and it started, only to crash and reboot again. I could feel my blood pressure rising. Putting my last quarters in, I waited for the start screen. Nothing happened. Taking deep breaths, I walked over to the arcade manager. His back was to the counter. “Excuse me,” I said.
Turning around, I saw the man’s face was partially colored like a clown’s, makeup smeared both his hands. “Sorry, what’s up?”
A shiver ran up my spine. Clowns creeped me out. “Nothing,” I replied and walked away quickly. I’d get some fair food to take my mind off things. Walking over to the food trailers, most were shaped like smiling clowns. I shut my eyes quickly and took a deep breath. “They’re not real clowns.” Opening my eyes, I walked over to the only normal one I could find.
This food truck advertised Polish sausage, my favorite. A head popped into the open order window. I was about to order but suddenly couldn’t find my voice. Staring at me with a pen and order pad in their hand...was a clown. “What can I get ya, fella? Heh-heh.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
My limbs felt cold and tingly, and my chest felt tight. I shook my head and stepped back. “Where ya going, fella?” said the clown pushing its head through the open window. The rainbow afro contracted and then puffed out once the head was completely through. “Don’t leave, I haven’t had your order yet heh-heh.”
I ran towards the rides as quickly as my legs would carry me. Skidding to a stop, I kicked up dirt as the first ride came into view. The entrance was a giant clown’s face. The giant eyes were looking directly at me. I ran past, but the eyes followed my movement. “Wait!” I heard behind me. Over my shoulder, I saw the clown from the food truck jogging after me. “I didn’t get your order!”
I booked it. Years of irrational fear of clowns coursed through my brain as pure survival instinct took over. Looking for a safe haven, I found the fun house. Before I entered, I looked to see where my pursuer was. Not ten feet from me, the clown charged at me on all fours like a beast, with a snake-like tongue flicking from side to side.
Feeling light-headed, I fled into the hall of mirrors. The reflections twisted my image in different grotesque ways. Twice, I hit my head on mirrors, trying to find which way the path led. Finally, I came to a dead end. I could hear the steps of the approaching clown. A warm trickle went down my leg. Looking up, my own reflection had clown makeup on. Its smile grew until it exposed dagger-like teeth.
My head struggled to make sense of what was happening. The fair, the clowns, this carnival of lies...I turned and put my back to the mirror. My knees buckled. I should have fallen, but arms reached out of the reflective surface behind me, the clown arms of my reflection held me up as the other crawled towards me on all fours. Fear took me and everything went black.