Clown the Jester
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The Children of Clown the Jester
By Clown the Jester.
Warning: PG13 Story has violence and dark themes. Events follow the story Comedy and Tragedy. All characters not created by the author are used with permission from their respective authors. All other characters are created by the author. The author would like to thank Artix Entertainment for the incredible work they do and would like to thank the readers who support him. Feel free to discuss story here.
They try to forget me. Try to pretend I never happened. Act as if the insanity that dwells in their head doesn’t exist.
Silly stunted simpletons. FORGET ME? WA HA HA HA HA! Not in a billion years…a billion years and one month maybe…heh heh heh. BUT NOT ANYTIME SOON! HEE HEE HEE! How can they hope to forget the madness? The comedy? The chaos?
The madness, comedy, and chaos I created? And what of my children? Do they intend to deny the presents I so generously gave them? Ungrateful buffoons! That’s what they are. They think I’d be that easy to forget?
They’d have to be crazy to think that. And not my kind of crazy. Not the crazy that gives you an excuse to be a clown. NO SIR! Their kind of crazy. The crazy you could only have if you tried to play sane in an insane world. Looney, I know.
Super City may be able to rebuild itself after it tried to play with Super Clown…but the memories are there. The nightmares they have of little old me still cross their minds no matter how hard they try and suppress it. Heh heh heh. The stench of the rotting dead will still plague their minds and soul. I’ve been resting while the heroes and villains try to take advantage of the funny situation I left them with.
Those hypocritical heroes trying once again to lock the villains up. Those small minded greedy villains trying to make messily profits when law enforcement was at it’s weakest.
Only one word could possibly describe this world I live in. DISGUSTING! Pathetic little ants, groveling just under my shoe. Oh how I long to just STAMP them out of existence. Soon, heh heh…soon.
CAN THEY NOT SEE THE REALITY BEFORE THEM? How can anyone possibly pretend they don’t see the humor of this life? They pretend things make sense. That their morals and values are worth following. That this world is still worth saving? They pretend they’re “civilized.” BAH! All I see are a bunch of caged animals following an old circus act. CAN’T THEY SEE THE BARS THAT SURROUND THEM? THE PRISON THAT THEY LIVE? WHY IS IT I’M THE ONLY ONE WHO SEES THE JOKE?!?
The Joke must live in. THE GAME MUST LIVE ON! I left this city dangling at the ledge of a dark pit. Time to finish the job.
It’s time to rejoin my city. Begin anew. Start over to the beginning. After all…a new Super City needs a new Clown the Jester.
Colin Adams shut his eyes in a mixture of fear and nausea as the plane shook. His hands clenched the arms of his seat, squeezing so tight that his knuckles turned white.
“This is your Captain Speaking,” the overhead announcement called in. “We are experiencing some turbulence, nothing to worry about. We will be reaching our destination in about an hour.”
Colin’s eyes were glued to the window, watching another crack of lightning, flashing across the night sky. Rain pelting his window like miniature bombs.
What if the pressure of the atmosphere breaks the window? Would he be sucked out of his passenger seat and pulled out of the airplane? No…the windows have to be able to with withstand such pressure.
Outside his window, Colin could see the plane’s wing stretching out like a…runway. The wings almost seemed to be bending back. As if flying with such wind conditions was bending the metal like tin foil.
For a moment a vision of the wings snapping off, seeing the plane plummeting hundreds of feet. Being swallowed up into the darkness. But Colin knew his eyes were tricking him. The Wings would hold. At least he prayed they would.
The Plane shook again. Colin shut his eyes, gritting his teeth, shaking his head back and forth trying to block out the terror inside him.
Colin hated flying. Every time he was on a plane he felt like he could feel the plane losing altitude. Dropping like a stone, bursting into flames. His parents could never go anywhere outside of Super City for vacation due to his fears of flight.
And here he was…in a plane, 35,000 feet in the air, alone…during a freaking storm...returning to Super City…the City where his parents died along with countless others at the hands of the Clown. With the Super City reconstruction almost complete and the City’s official reopening one week away, he was returning to the City to live with his uncle. He was 15 years old, tall lanky body, faded red hair, and a face covered with freckles.
Colin’s ears began to hurt from the pressure of the flight, he pulled a stick of BaconGum, unwrapping it with trembling fingers, and shoved the gum into his mouth chewing it vigorously. Colin could feel the ear pressure relieving as he chewed.
Another jolt shook the plane causing Colin to almost swallow his gum.
Colin’s hands dove into the pouch in the back of the seat in front of his, digging out the Emergency Procedure Pamphlet. His eyes scanned once again over the instructions. Though he already memorized them since the last eight times he pulled it out to read it. But he studied it never the less, as if it was the Bible.
“Would you like something to drink?” a voice asked, startling Colin.
Colin looked up; a blonde haired flight attendant smiled kindly down at him. In her recently manicured hands, a pad of paper and pen. The small nametag on her uniform read: Becky.
“Uh,” he stammered, trying to calm himself down. “Bacon Juice please.”
“Sure thing,” The Flight attendant replied scribbling into her notepad.
She was about to move on to the next row when she glanced back at Colin, noticing the Pamphlet shaking in his trembling hands.
“Are you alright honey?” She asked.
“Yeah I…I’m fine,” Colin lied, his knuckles tapping his arm rest, then reaching up at his head and began scratching his rust colored hair.
“Don’t like flying?” She asked with a sympathetic smile.
“No…no I’m fine,” Colin repeated, turning his attention back to the window to see another streak of lightning flash in the night.
Becky was obviously unconvinced. Colin turned his attention away from Becky indicating the conversation was over. He used the tail of his orange t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. He glanced back down at his pamphlet and pretended to read it as if he did not know Becky the Flight attendant was still watching him.
“Alright then,” The Flight attendant finally, giving Colin one more look of concern. “Let me know if you need anything.”
She moved on to the next row, leaving Colin alone. Taking another glance to make sure he was alone, Colin let out a sigh of mixed relief and embarrassment. He replaced the pamphlet back in the seat’s pouch, his eyes still staring out the window.
Out in the darkness…far off at the edge of the wing…Colin saw something move. Moving…35,000 feet in the air…in a violent storm…on a plane wing.
Colin pressed his face against the glass window, his eyes squinting…trying to get a better look.
Yes…yes something was moving out there. Was it a bird that landed on the wing? Dear God was it a man who was caught on the wing when the plane took off? Was it a piece of the wing that was torn, flapping in the wind?
The thing…seemed to be moving towards down the plane wing…coming closer to Colin’s window. Colin tried to make it out. But his view was blocked by the countless rain drops moving across his window.
Colin felt the urge to call the Flight attendant let her know what he was seeing. But…he felt he needed to know what he was seeing first.
It was moving closer…it didn’t seem to be a bird. It seemed to be larger. Was it a person? How could a person walk down a Plane wing at this altitude? Dear God! Was a member of the Airport Runway crew stuck on the wing? Had he been trying to endure the storm and flight all this time? No…it couldn’t be. Any normal person would have fallen off the wing. 35,000 feet in the air. What was it? What was it?!
A flash of lightning streaked across the night sky lighting up the wing. Colin could see the thing clearly. The figure’s form was illuminated. The figure....it...Dear God...It was a person.
It was a man. A man that Colin recognized instantly. It had been years since Colin last saw this hitchhiker on the plane wing. The man was sickly thin, normal height. The term man was used far too generously. The figure seemed more demon or animal than human.
Dressed in a purple suit with tails, a long hooked cane in a purple gloved hand, a top hat resting over his head…somehow not being blown off his head by the powerful wind outside. Purple hair, bleach white skin, blood red lips stretched in a grotesque smile. The figure gave Colin the feeling that he was watching a ghoul rather than a normal human being.
There was no mistaking the man. It was Clown the Jester. The monster that destroyed Super City. The leader of a carnival that murdered Colin’s parents. The monster that was killed by Drakkoniss so many years ago….standing on the wing of a plane…very much alive.
His violet eyes glowed in the dark stormy night like two lit candles. To Colin’s horror, the creature’s wild eyes met Colin’s. His grotesque smile widening, as if he had recognized Colin. A chalk white hand tipping the brim of his top hat down in greeting.
The lightning slowly faded, throwing the plane wing and the Harlequin back into the darkness. Colin Adams stared into the darkness. His mind could not accept what his eyes were registering.
No…no….no no no no…NO! IT CAN’T BE! HE’S DEAD! HE DIED YEARS AGO! HE DIED! HE CAN’T BE OUT THERE! NO! NO! PLEASE GOD! NO!
Colin could still see the Clown’s shape in the darkness, slowly making his way down the wing in sudden lurches, as if he was wading in water, or pushing against a mighty force. His shape drew closer and closer towards Colin’s window.
Clown the Jester…he was on the wing. No…NO!
“Clown,” Colin whispered in disbelieve. His heart racing, teeth chattering, palms sweaty. “Cluh…Clown.”
Another flash of lightning lit up the Harlequin…merely fifteen feet way from Colin’s window…his wild eyes still locked on Colin’s.
“IT’S THE CLOWN!” Colin screamed at the top of his lungs, waving his arms in the air like a mad man. “CLOWN THE JESTER! HE’S OUTSIDE! THE CLOWN IS ON THE PLANE! SOMEONE DO SOMETHING OR WE’RE GONNA DIE!”
The passengers around him broke into loud chatter. Loud gasps, mummers, a baby behind Colin’s seat let out a scream. Everyone peered out their windows. Scanning the night for the Harlequin.
A flight attendant quickly made her way to Colin’s seat, not Becky.
“Sir,” she began, trying to calm the panicking Colin. “Please…please calm down. What’s wrong? Are you alright?”
“It’s the Clown!” Colin cried out, pointing out his window. The Flight attendant’s eyes followed Colin’s finger staring out into the darkness. Colin stared with her waiting for her to respond.
“I don’t understand,” she said peering through the window. “There’s nothing out there.”
“What do you mean?” Colin cried out in alarm, his eyes darting to face the window.
Despite the darkness, despite the rain drops clouding the window…there was no Clown to be seen on the wing. Another flash of lightning revealed the entire wing. No Clown in sight. Nothing. The plane wing was deserted.
“I...he was there…He…He was there,” Colin stammered. “I saw him. He was there.”
The Flight attendant bit her lip, staring down at Colin. Her eyes were a mix between concern and suspicion.
“Sir, I think you must have had a nightmare,” She final said, glancing again out the window. “Do you need something to calm down?”
“I wasn’t sleeping,” Colin protested. “I was awake. I know I was!”
“Alright, you were not sleeping,” the Flight attendant said, glancing around at the listening passengers. “In that case, I think you may need some rest. This storm must be upsetting you. Would you like me to bring you a pillow?”
Colin was about to argue, but he realized how futile the matter would be. He slumped back in his seat in bewildered despair.
When he didn’t respond the Flight attendant repeated her question and Colin nodded slowly in defeat, taking no notice of her leaving.
Colin sat motionless, glancing again out the window, searching through the darkness for the Harlequin. Nothing. Did he imagine Clown the Jester on the plane wing?
The Flight attendant returned with the pillow, handing it to Colin.
“Would you like anything else?” she asked.
Colin shook his head, positioning the small pillow behind his head. The flight attendant left.
Colin closed his eyes. He took long deep breathes, trying to calm his nerves.
He must have imagined the Clown. Obviously his mind was playing tricks on him.
The furious storm, the flight, and his return to Super City were overburdening his mind with stress. Of course he would see Clown the Jester on the wing. Seeing the most terrifying man in the world due his fear of flight. Nothing. Clown the Jester wasn’t even alive. He died years ago. There was even an investigation to verify Clown the Jester’s death.
Colin could feel his heart beat slow to a calm pace. Nothing’s out there. Nothing’s out there. Nothing’s out there.
Satisfied that he had conquered his fear, Colin opened his eyes, turning his attention to the window. Confident that he would see nothing outside the plane.
He was wrong.
His eyes immediately locked on Clown the Jester’s wild eyes. The Clown was just outside his window, a hand pressed against the window. His reptilian eyes widening in amusement of Colin’s reactions. The eyes…oh god…those eyes. Merciless, wild, insane, terrifying, demented. Colin could see his own fears and pain flashing in Clown the Jester’s bloodshot eyes. They were the eyes of a savage animal.
Beads of raindrops tricked down the Clown’s face. His body and clothes soaked from the storm. His grotesque grin widening more and more. The Clown reached out a hand towards Colin, extending his pointer finger, and began to tap on Colin’s window.
Colin’s trembling hands thumbed with his seatbelt, trying desperately to escape the seat. His pillow fell from his lap, landing in the aisle.
Colin knew he wasn’t imagining. This was Clown the Jester. He was on Colin’s flight.
Clown the Jester continued to tap at the window. Each rap of his fingers was slow, intimidating, deliberate. The knocking slowly sped up. Tapping faster and faster. Faster and faster. Each tap causing Colin to cringe. Colin glanced up at the Harlequin, his hands unable to release the simple restraint.
Clown the Jester threw his head back, his blood red lips parting, and his yellow teeth clattering. The Clown’s mouth rapidly opened and closed, his laughter muted by the storm and window that separated them. A flash of lighting illuminated Clown the Jester. The taping never ceasing.
Colin fought the urge to scream. He could feel his throat tighten. His stomach lurching. He tried to close his eyes but all his mind could think of was the Clown still taping on his window. As if…oh God…As if he was trying to get inside the plane.
Colin wrestled with his seat belt with new determination.
“Someone help me,” he croaked, his throat was beginning to become distorted with his fear. His plea was drowned out by a loud boom of thunder. Colin felt sick, losing the ability to speak.
Colin glanced back at his window. Clown the Jester was still taping his finger against the glass. His ghoulish pale face pressing against the window, his deranged eyes darting back and forth in devilish delight.
Colin stopped trying to undo his seat belt and reached up for the button that would call for a steward. Just as his hand brushed against the button, Colin glanced back at the window. Clown the Jester was gone.
“NO!” Colin cried out, slamming his fist against the window in frustration. “NO! NO! NO!”
He needed someone to see the Harlequin. He needed them to know he wasn’t crazy. He needed them to know they were all in danger.
The passenger in the seat in front of Colin’s sat up, turning around to face Colin.
“Can you stop making so much noise?” the old man scowled, his face turning tomato red in rage. “I’m trying to sleep.”
Colin didn’t bother to answer the man. He finally unbuckled his seat belt, and hurried to the restroom.
Colin locked the door, turning on the sink and gathering a handful of water and splashed it over his face. His teeth chattering, his heart racing.
Colin felt like he was about to have a heart attack. Colin felt sick to his stomach. What was he going to do? What could he do? The most infamous serial killer that ever lived was hiding on his plane.
Colin’s mind began to relieve the horrors he faced back during the Chaos Riots of Super City. Remembering the day that changed everything Colin would ever know.
………………………………………………………………..
Five years ago. Dr. Blackshock’s Safehouse.
Colin remembered the brief time he spent in Dr. Blackshock’s hospital, the only safe house in the entire city. For two days, he and his parents stayed in hospital. The wounded and dead being wheeled back and forth. His parents trying to comfort him.
The next thing Colin knew, the entire hospital went on lockdown, alarms screaming, people panicking. Colin’s parents grabbed Colin by the arm and pulled him away from the group as two dozen Cannibal Clowns tore their way into the hospital, killing patients, destroying the medical droids.
Colin’s father was the first to be attacked by the monsters. He screamed for Colin and his mother to leave him as five clowns tore him apart, their demented shrieks echoing throughout the hospital.
The mother led the young Colin out of the hospital. As they reached the doors, they opened to find a figure waiting for them on the other side.
He wore a purple dyed Keli Racer suit, matching his messy purple dyed hair, a common color style for the ranks of the Chaos Carnival. His eyes were hidden behind dark shades; however Colin could see the faint signs of a strange tattoo on his forehead, covered by the sunglasses and the figures messy hair.
The man grinned menacingly at the two, entering through the hospital doors.
“Never really liked hospitals,” he mused, advancing on Colin and his mother. “They bring back dark memories. Dreams that I would prefer to not remember. Places like this reminded me of my old Dad.”
His face suddenly darkened, his grin breaking into a hideous scowl.
“I HATE THINKING ABOUT MY DAD!” He snarled, his body trembling with uncontrollable rage. “HATE THINKING ABOUT HIM! WHAT HE DID TO ME! HIS TESTS! THOSE PINS AND NEEDLES! TREATING ME LIKE SOME GOD FORSAKING LAB RAT!”
Colin’s mother tugged at her son’s arm trying to pull him away from the lunatic before them.
They tried to run. The man held up his hand, and an invisible force lifted the two into the air holding them in place.
“I can feel your fears. I know them. I know your nightmares, your terrors, your demons,” the man hissed, placing two bandaged fingers onto Colin’s forehead. “Its like I can hear your fears. A loud scream of your terror echoing in my skull.”
“Let him go!” Colin’s mother begged. “Please. He’s just a child.”
“THAT NEVER STOPPED MY DAD FROM TORTURING ME LIKE AN ANIMAL!” The man screamed, turning his attention to the mother. “THE VOICES! THEY NEVER STOP! ALWAYS SPEAKING! ALWAYS YELLING IN MY HEAD! NO REST! NO SLEEP! NO PEACE! THE MINDS OF OTHERS ALWAYS SHRIEKING IN MY HEAD! THEY WON’T SHUT UP!”
Colin let out a whimper of fear, trying to escape the man before him.
“Go head. Close your eyes,” The deranged man hissed into Colin’s ear, placing both hands onto his head as if his skull was about to break. “Try and escape into your little world of make believe. A world where there are no monsters to scare you. No Dads to hurt you. No voices to scream at you. Just you and happiness. Try and hide from me in your dreams. But it is no good. In the dream world, I run the show!”
Colin felt an intense pain in his head, his head throbbing, and his senses going into overdrive. His eyes opening to find he was no longer with the strange man and his mother…but in a never ending abyss of darkness. The young Colin felt cold, alone, and afraid. There was nothing there. Nothing. At first it was silent, and then a soft mummer began to echo in the universe of nothing. Growling louder and louder.
At first Colin could not make it out. It sounded like a low foreign noise. Undistinguishable. But it began to grow louder and louder.
Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha.
Colin felt the sudden impulse that he was not alone in the darkness. That there was something with him in this abyss. The laughter grew louder in volume.
Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha. Hee Hee Ho Ha! Ho Ho Ha Ha Ha!
The laughter was growing louder and louder. So loud that it could be heard everywhere. Like a thunder. It was growing louder by the second.
HEE HEE HEE HA HA HA HA HO HO HO HA HA HEE HEE HA HA!
Colin tried to cover his ears. His body trembling in fear. The laughter was growing louder. Louder. LOUDER! It began to hurt Colin’s head. The shrieks of laughter digging into his mind like drills.
WA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! HEE HEE HEE HA HA HA! HO HO HO HA HA HA HA HA! HOO HOO WHOO HO HO HA HA HA! WA HA HA HA HA!
The laughter was a mix of absolute insanity and unsympathetic cruelty. The laugh no normal human could make. Such madness. Such sick loathing. Such Chaos.
Colin couldn’t take it anymore.
“STOP!” He scream with all his might, shutting his eyes in despair.
His eyes reopened to find himself back with his mother and the strange man. Colin broke into a sob, tears trickling down his trembling cheeks.
“What did you do to him?” his mother cried out, her face twisted in rage and fear. “Leave him alone! Please! Just kill me! He’s done nothing to you!”
“A loving parent. I’m not sure if I’m disgusted or jealous,” The man mused, scratching his chin. “How about I meet you half way in your request?”
The mother’s eyes widened, her face growing deathly pale, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. She let out a loud shriek, her body jerking wildly. Her head twitching unnaturally back and forth. She let out shriek after shriek, her body curling up into a ball in the air. Suddenly, Colin’s mother went limp, her head sagging on her shoulders.
Dead.
Colin let out a cry of despair. He felt powerless and alone. He couldn’t believe his family was dead.
“You’re turn kid,” the man hissed, dropping Colin’s mother to the ground. Her body bent into an unnatural position.
Colin watched the man raise his hand. Colin let out another sob, his eyes red in with tears.
“Sweet Dreams,” the man hissed.
Suddenly a large cloud of purple smoke appeared behind the man, the mist forming the shape of a sickly thin figure. The cloud transformed into the leader of the Chaos Carnival, the murderer of thousands of innocent people.
The man levitating Colin immediately turned his attention to the figure forming behind him.
“Clownie!” the man cried up bowing his head in respect to the purple skinned, purple haired, purple dressed creature behind him. Colin knew who this new figure was. Clown the Jester.
“Why Dreamer!” Clown the Jester exclaimed vigorously shaking the hand of the man that murder Colin’s mother. “I see you have joined in on the fun! Very exciting! MOST EXCITING INDEED! But please…for the moment…call me Super Clown. I feel it is most appropriate seeing as how I am at the moment the most powerful smasher in that ever was and ever will be thanks to my malachite deposited...I think I deserve…a new title.”
“Whatever you say Super Clown,” The Dreamer nodded to his ringleader.
Colin could feel Clown the Jester, or Super Clown’s aura of impossible energy emitting from his body. Small crackles of purple lightning sparked out of Clown the Jester’s demented eyes. He seemed almost God-like with the never ending powers Colin could feel he possessed.
“AND WHO DO WE HAVE HERE?” Clown the Jester exclaimed pointing his long purple cane at Colin’s chest. “He wasn’t trying to leave in the middle of the party was he? FOR SHAME! Shame shame shame shame…shamey.”
“His name is Colin Adams,” The Dreamer answered, turning his attention back to Colin.
“And this must be his party chaperone!” Clown the Jester giggled, nudging Colin’s dead mother with his shoe. “Messy, messy. You know I thought this was a red carpet we were standing on. Well…apparently it wasn’t always a red carpet…heh heh heh. Oh wait…that’s blood! HEE HEE HEE HA HA HA!”
“Do you want the honor of finishing him off boss?” Dreamer inquired, grinning mischievously at the Harlequin. Colin tensed his body in anticipation. He felt his final hour had come.
Clown the Jester scratched his chin in deep thought.
“I…dare I say it Dreamer? I don’t think I want the boy iced,” Clown the Jester hissed, pondering the matter.
“What? Really?” Dreamer asked, greatly surprised. He never knew his boss to pass up a chance to indulge himself in what he considered comedy.
“Weird right?” Clown the Jester said, staring into the boy’s eyes. “I ain’t sparing him for guilt, or sympathy. Not for boredom, not for mercy. I don’t know why. Maybe I’m trying to act dramatic. I don’t know. Let the kid go on his merry way. I’ll figure out why I don’t want the kid dead. I will.”
The Dreamer nodded, releasing his hold on the trembling Colin. Colin’s eyes turned back and forth from the Dreamer and Clown the Jester. He felt unsure of what to do. What could he do? He was alone in a City that was eating itself alive.
“Run. Run away Colin Adams,” Clown the Jester hissed, his eyes digging into Colin’s soul. “Run away and survive as long as you can. Be grateful that my associate and I showed you the other side.”
Colin still stood still. His terror held him in place like a statue.
“RUN!” Clown the Jester screamed, the ground and sky shaking violently.
Colin ran. He wasn’t sure of where he could go. What was left for him? The boy knew he needed to keep running. Keep running or die.
As Colin cleared the hospital, it burst into purple flames collapsing behind the child. Crushing anyone still inside it. Colin took one last look at the hospital, to see Clown the Jester, the leader of the Chaos Carnival, the ringmaster of these riots, the murderer of thousands, emerge from the rubble.
Colin was at 300 yards distance away from the Clown, but the young boy knew the Harlequin was still watching him. He floated over the ruins of Dr. Blackshock’s burning safe house, watching the fleeing Colin disappear into the screaming city. Clown the Jester made no move to harm Colin. He let the boy escape. But why? Why did he let Colin live? Why?
He still missed them to this day. Every day he remembered his loving parents. Remembered that he would never see them again. It was so unfair. Sometimes he couldn’t help but hate them for leaving him. Colin knew it wasn’t right to begrudge their deaths as if they wanted to do. But he couldn’t help it. It hurt. It hurt so bad. Every night after that day, Colin’s dreams replayed the horrific scene of watching his parents
………………………………………………………………..
Colin snapped out of his visions, trying desperately to think on the matter at hand. He whipped away the tears in his eyes. He tried to suppress his remorse, loneliness, and painful memories of his dead parents.
What could he do? He was the only one who knew of Clown the Jester’s presence, and the Clown was far too clever to let anyone else see him.
Colin stared at his reflection in the mirror. He took deep breaths trying to calm down.
He couldn’t hide the Clown’s appearance out of fear of someone doubting him. This wasn’t a time to be afraid of what people thought. The lives of everyone person on this plane as well as the lives of everyone in Super City and maybe the entire world was at risk. He had to do something. But what could he do? What could anyone do?
Colin stared at his reflection, hoping he could find some advice or hidden truth from looking into his own eyes. His eyes stared back. A stare of desperation and hopelessness. Wait…no…it was changing…What? No…no…his facial feature’s stretching to form…a grotesque grin.
To Colin’s horror his reflecting began to melt, the skin paling to a ghostly white, his hair darkening to purple, his eyes glowing a dark violet hue.
“Colin Adams,” his clownified reflection hissed to Colin, all by itself. “So good to see you again. Seems like a life time ago since I last saw you. Heh heh heh. Oh right, It was a life time ago. Life ago for me at least.”
The face morphed to the face of Clown the Jester. Clown the Jester was in the mirror. Talking to Colin. Dear God.
“You…you’re dead. YOU DIED! DRAKKONISS KILLED YOU!” Colin cried out in despair, his body seeming to deflate in defeat. “It’s not fair. You died. Why? Why are you here?”
“WHY COLIN!” Clown the Jester exclaimed, a mock expression of hurt spreading across his ghoulish face. “YOU HURT MY FEELINGS SO! I thought you’d be excited to see me. You looked so in need of an old friend. Heh heh heh. So I thought I would just drop on by to catch up on old times. And yet you seem to not be grapeful..heh heh…grapeful…hilarious…well maybe not to a simpleton such as you…grapeful…HEE HEE HEE HA HA HA! That would be what us funny folk call an inside joke. Speaking of insides…have you ever seen your insides? Your guts dropping out of your body landing into a messy heap? Your blood spewing out of your severed veins? Your bones snapping like little twigs?”
“Please,” Colin begged to mirror. “Leave me alone. I…I’m not Drakkoniss. I’m no one. You don’t even know me. I’m just…”
“WRONG OLD BEAN! I know everything there is to know about you. I’VE BEEN RESEARCHING YOU WHILE I WAS TAKING A VACATION IN DEATH’S REALM! FUN PLACE! BUT KINDA A TOURIST TRAP! WA HA HA HA HA!” Clown the Jester cried out, cutting Colin off midsentence. “I know your height all the way to millimeters, I know you age, weight, memories, fears, dreams, hopes, family, friends, and even the genetic sequence that makes up your DNA! I even know your credit card number so don’t be surprised if you receive a large bill for the purchase of a Get Out of Death Free card from Death, Back, and the Great Beyond back to the world of the semi-living sacks. HEE HEE HEE HEE HA HA HA HA!”
Colin could feel himself about to collapse. This was too much. His heart was pounding. His skin cold and clammy, his teeth chattering, his left eye twitching. His insides began to scream in some unknown pain. Colin fell to his knees, his arms wrapping around his aching stomach, his eyes unable to pull away from the demon still laughing at him. His head began to scream. He could feel his head begin to experience the same intense pain in his stomach began to spread through his body. His head beginning to scream in pain. Colin’s vision began to fade. He fought to maintain consciousness.
“Tell me Colin old pal; are your parents still dead? I just wanna know out of curiosity, cause everyone I kill seem to be having the audacity to come back from the Grape…heh heh…beyond. Davy the Anti-Social, Dearie Zafara. I mean heck even I’m back in town. Back and kicking with a fresh pulse…well…almost…kinda…still looking for some good real-estate to set up shop first…just waiting for the current landlord to hand me the key,” The Clown continued watching my weakening with fascination and glee. “ Yes…heh heh…the key….you doing alright there Colin? Your looking kinda pale under the collar. Are you ok in the noggin? Maybe your noggin is the key. Can it be the key? What do you think Colin old chum? Key? Key? Key? Heh heh…yes…key…how appropriate. WA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!”
Colin’s head was screaming. Something was wrong. Something was very very wrong with Colin. He suddenly felt his heart stop for a single moment. As if he had died. The heart began to resume beating. Colin could feel the world around fading. Reality slipping away. He felt the same cold isolated terrors he felt all those years ago when the Dreamer invaded his mind.
“WA HA HA HA HA HO HO HA HA HA HEE HEE HEE HA HA HA HA HEE HEE HA HA HA!”
Colin began to lose the feeling in his arms.
“HEE HEE HEE HA HA HA HO HO HO HO HA HA HA HA! GRAH HA HA! HO HO HO HO!”
Colin felt a powerful queasy feeling in his stomach. He swung his head over the toilet, throwing up. Colin’s hair began to fall off his head in large clumps. Handfuls of his slowly graying hair.
“I’ve waited so long for this moment. Waited for you to be ready,” Clown the Jester hissed, pressing his hands against the mirror that separate them, his smile fading to a grim snarl. “So many years. The world moving on. Trying to suppress me. I watched. Unable to reach out and touch them. But soon…I will be able to touch them. They will laugh once again. They will laugh till their insides bleed out.”
“What…what’s happening…to..to…me?” Colin stammered through clenched teeth, he heard what he thought to be a loud crack in his skull followed by an intensifying pain that caused his to shriek in pain. He could feel the splinters of his skull reconfiguring in his head, followed by the bone fragments mending back together. The pain was unbelievable.
“Before I died all those years ago I managed to perform one last little magic trick,” Clown the Jester answered, pressing his forehead against the mirror. “I realized in order to be able to continue the Game with Drakkoniss, I need to have a means to return after I let out my last punch line. No easy task. So I did what any sensible Harlequin with the powers to do anything would have done. I turned my mind into a port that connected to every other mind in the world. ”
Colin glanced down at his hands, letting out a cry of shock as his fingers began to change complexion. His tanned skin…was turning a pail ghostly white. Colin realized what was happening. He grabbed a handful of his hair and tore it out of his head, ignoring the pain, and holding up to the overhead lights.
The strands of hair had adapted a dark purple color. Colin Adams was turning into Clown the Jester.
“What is the only thing in this universe that is truly immortal without getting to scientific into the matter?” Clown the Jester asked, pressing his face against the mirror that separated his world from Colin’s world. “Thoughts. Memories. Ideas. You can kill a hero, but you can’t kill a legend. Trust me, I’ve tried. Heh heh heh. What if I could become a legend? What if I could become something more than a legend? What if I could literally turn myself into an idea? That would require someone to remember me. Say…an entire world…perhaps...heh heh heh. An entire world that remembers the horrors of Super Clown and what he did to a pathetic city. What if I could be reborn in those who thought of me? Who remembered me? What if I rewrote everyone’s DNA so they contained a hidden trace of my own that could activate any time I thought peachy? I’d say I’d be very tough to kill. Maybe even impossible.”
Colin needed to find a mirror or anything to that could show his reflection. The only mirror in the small bathroom was the mirror that Clown the Jester occupied. Colin needed to find something else. Anything.
Colin crawled over to the toilet, peering down into the bowl staring into the toilet water. He did not know the reflection peering back at him.
Colin’s new face resembled misshapen clay or putty. His eyes and mouth heavily deformed and pressed together. His skin ghostly white, his hair dark purple. His green eyes were changing to a bright violet color. His body was slowly reconfiguring to match Clown the Jester’s.
Colin didn’t know what to do. His mind was overwhelmed. He couldn’t breathe. All he could do was scream until his lungs gave out.
“Reborn in my victims…how poetic!” Clown the Jester chuckled.
There was a loud pounding on the restroom door. Someone had heard Colin’s cries of agony.
“Is someone in there?” a voice called out, pounding harder and harder. “Are you alright? Can you open the door? Hello?”
Colin clamped a pale hand over his heart. He felt it stop once again. Nothing. He was sure he must have died. But no he was still moving. He could still think…think?
Colin realized there was something wrong in his head. A soft humming in his head…changing to a high pitched screech as if a bird letting out a death cry. The screeches were joined by a chorus of voices.
Voices….there were voices in his head. No! They were everywhere outside his head, inside his head, and in between. So many different voices. So many…so loud…they were screaming…all screaming in pain…screaming in fear…some were pleading with Colin, begging him not to kill them.
What was this? Colin began to press his hands against the sides of his head. The voices were unnatural. What were they? He squeezed his head harder and harder as if he could push the voices out of his head.
“Hello? Are you alright?” The voice outside of the restroom called out once again, banging on the door. Colin recognized it as the voice of Becky the Flight attendant. “Can you hear me? Please…if you can hear me, give me a sign. Hello?”
Colin’s body suddenly became icy cold. His entire body shivering. He couldn’t feel his heart beat. Colin couldn’t feel his breathing as if he was holding his breath but he didn’t feel the suffocating feel of holding his breath. His body trembled in the sudden cold. What was happening? WHY WAS IT SO COLD? His teeth chattered, his eyes stung as if they were drying up.
“Please…IN THE NAME OF GOD!” He cried out, crawling like a slug towards the door, trying to reach the lock. “I….I need help! I’m dying. The voices won’t stop yelling!”
“I’m going to get help!” Becky called back. “Just remain calm and try and move as far away from the door as possible! Keep talking! I’ll be back in a second!”
“NO!” Colin cried out in despair, his hands cradling his shaking head. “DON’T LEAVE ME! PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME!”
“Now now Colin, I hate seeing you blubbering like a baby!” Clown the Jester hissed grinning down at the writhing Colin. “Take it like a man! No pain, game….and what a game we shall be a part of. Best game that will ever be…Milton Bradley eat your heart out! HOO HOO HOO HA HA HA!”
Colin’s body tightened up in rage. His life, his family, his face…all destroyed. This was the Clown’s doing! Clown the Jester’s fault! EVERYTHING BECAUSE OF THAT CLOWN! He couldn’t let Clown the Jester win. He couldn’t. The voices…they keep talking! WHY DO THEY KEEP TALKING? Colin needed silence. He felt as if his brain was on fire. Disorienting colors flashed before his blood shot eyes. When would it end?
“Gotta say Colin, You’re becoming quite the looker! Nice new hair cut and skin tone. Very nice indeed,” The Clown continued, studying his filthy nails with nonchalance. “And I bet your mind is getting better by the tick! Soon all will be done and my mind will replace yours and I’ll be in business. What happens to your mind…well…I don’t have the slightest clue…but I’m almost 65.341% sure your mind won’t disappear. Maybe 64.24%...42.1%? 5.6% minimum. Heh heh heh. All that matters is, I’m back to deliver destruction and insanity to all the good and naughty boys and girls of Super City!”
“NO! YOU MONSTER!” Colin snarled, his pale face twisting into pure rage, he pulled his morphing body to his feet. “I HATE YOU! WHY COULDN’T YOU JUST DIE!?”
“I’m back by popular demand Colin, Old boy! I wouldn’t be in a mirror, chatting with you right now if they didn’t want me! I’m here because of memories,” Clown the Jester exclaimed, straitening his bow tie. His reflection was fading, as if he was nothing more than Colin’s imagination. “Ya see, it’s been what? Four? Five years since my grand performance that brought a city of smashers to it’s knees? They claim I am a menace…a real bad guy! But deep down…they still want me. Cause I brought fun and excitement to their droll, boring, meaningless little lives. Deep down…you people love me. You enjoy my games. You want me to live once again….heck..you want to become me. Don’t you Colin? You want to let go of your troubling world. You want to go crazy! YOU WANT TO BE ME! WA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!”
“LIAR!” Colin screamed, lunging at the mirror. He pulled back his arm, his hand forming a fist. His eyes fixed with determination and absolute hate upon the Harlequin that hurt so many people.
His fist smashed into the mirror, shattering the glass into jagged fragments. The pieces fell to the floor, tumbling in air as if in slow motion. Colin watched the shinning pieces clatter against the bathroom floor. His knuckles and the back of his fist bleeding from where the glass cut his skin, though Colin didn’t seem to register the pain.
The environment around Colin was silent. The whole world seemed to stop. Seconds seemed to last hours. The never ending roar of voices had hushed completely. Outside the bathroom, someone was trying to kick the sealed door down. He stared at the shatter glass. Something was digging into his mind. Colin began to ponder what the broken glass meant.
Shattered. The whole world is shattered. Justice, morals, freedom, and choices…nothing but broken dreams and reflections of the self denial the world blinded itself with. Sanity is so fragile, so thin, so self deceiving that all it takes is a little force to break the mind of the sanest thinker. It was a joke. Nothing was real. Science, faith, history, art, emotions. A cruel joke.
Colin heard a new voice in his head. He knew who it was. He knew what the voice was saying, but he realized the voice was right. Everything was a joke. Only one thing in this world was real. The Game.
All Colin’s life, he was afraid. Afraid of flying, of clowns, of death, of failure. Afraid. Afraid. Afraid. He was sick of being scared. Never again. Colin felt fear for the last time. Now he knew what he was. He was chaos. He was the darker side of man. The animal within the civilized man. Colin Adams was Clown the Jester.
Colin’s injured hand began to heal. The cells regenerating over the cuts with inhuman speeds. He studied his restored hand and smiled. As he flexed his fingers, the restroom door behind him crack, breaking off it’s hinges and toppling to the ground with a loud thud.
Two men entered the bathroom. They were tall, muscular, figures. Colin folded his arms, stooping his shoulders, and bowing his head to cover his metamorphosis.
Even with his back to the two advancing men, Colin knew exactly what these two humans were.
Small minded apes. Good intentions perhaps, but with a strong denial of the troubles surrounding them. Useless creatures. No more helpful to this world than worms. And were they not worms? Spineless cowards wiggling in discomfort. If they saw his face, a face given to him against his will, they would be repulsed. Intolerant savages. They thought they could help Colin. Maybe fix him…as if he was broken.
One of the men reached out his hand to Colin, trying in vain to comfort the youth. Colin shuddered in disgust as one of the blind mongrels placed a hand on his shoulder. Their touch repulsed Colin.
“Sir,” The man said, noticing the broken glass and blood covering the bathroom floor. “I’m a doctor. I can help you.”
“Help me?” Colin asked, noticing how scratchy and altered his voice had become. “How can you help me? You can’t help yourselves.”
“I’m a doctor,” the man repeated, trying to catch a glimpse of Colin’s hidden hands to search for the source of the blood. “You can trust me.”
Colin turned his head, revealing his grotesque face. The Doctor and the other man, a male flight attendant dropped their jaws in horror…and disgust. Colin wrinkled his nose. They thought he was hideous? THEY SHOULD LOOK IN A MIRROR! Oh wait…Colin realized, a small grin parting on his face. I broke the mirror. That’s seven years bad luck.
“Heh…heh heh heh….heh heh heh heh. Hee Hee Hee Ha Ha,” Colin giggled, his demented eyes twinkling in delight. The two men began to back away. Lost for words. Unsure. Trying to put Colin out of their minds. DENYING WHAT COLIN WAS!
Colin pounced at the two men. He snapped the flight attendant’s neck with on hand, and knocked the retreating Doctor to his feet. Colin threw the limp corpse of the 6ft 2 man behind him with ease, sneering down at the petrified Doctor.
The demonic boy pressed his foot down on the Doctor’s stomach, reaching down for a piece of the broken glass.
The Doctor watched in silent terror as Colin raised the sharp piece of glass over his head, the youth’s eyes shining with inhuman cruelty.
“Mirrors are funny things Doc,” Colin hissed slashing the glass piece down upon the screaming Doctor. “They show you what you really are. REFLECTING THE DISGUSTING WORLD FOR WHAT IT REALLY IS! A CRUEL JOKE!”
Clown the Jester dropped blood stained glass into the toilet, washed his hands at the sink, and emerged out from the laboratory. The passengers screamed, a man with misplaced courage tried to tackle Clown the Jester from behind. The Harlequin grasped the passenger by the neck and with one hand, carried the struggling man to one of the emergency exits that Colin had memorized earlier during the flight.
The door was locked, however with a snap of the Clown’s fingers, the emergency exit doors unfolded. The powerful wind roared throughout the airplane. Papers flapped throughout the airplane, passengers struggled to buckle their seat belts. Clown the Jester peered out the doorway, the rain from the storm soaking him and his hysterical associate.
“FRESH AIR! THAT’S WHAT YOU NEED SIR! YOU MUST BE GETTING CABIN FEVER INSIDE THIS PLANE!” Clown the Jester yelled over the violent wind to the terrified man. “I’D GO SO FAR TO SAY YOU NEED TO FEEL THE SAFTY AND SECURITY OF LAND AS SOON A POSSIBLE! LET OLD CLOWN THE JESTER BE OF ASSISTANCE!”
The man let out on final scream as Clown the Jester tossed him out of the plane.
He plummeted out of sight into the dark clouds of the storm.
“NO YOU SILLY NINNY!” Clown the Jester called out into the darkness. “FLAP YOUR ARMS LIKE A BIRD! A BIRD! NOT LIKE THAT! YOU’RE FLAPPING LIKE A PENGUIN! PENGUINS DON’T FLY! ARE YOU ASKING FOR A ROUGH LANDING? AND TO THINK I WAS GONNA GIVE YOU A PARACHUTE!”
The passengers watched helplessly. They dared not make a move on the Clown. They prayed. They cried. Mother’s tried to cover their children. They felt helpless. So much fear. GOOD! Maybe they can appreciate what it’s like to fear flying.
“Who else is schedualed for an Emergancy Landing? Hmmm?” Clown the Jester asked the other passengers. “Any volunteers?”
Clown the Jester’s eyes scanned his audience. He studied their faces. He could feel their fear. But which one was the biggest scaredy cat? The Harlequin’s eyes snapped on the face of Becky, the Flight attendant. Her face hung open in absolute horror. Her eyes wide in fear. Her body trembling. As soon as she realized the Clown was staring at her, she shut her eyes, curling her body up into a ball as if she could hide from the Harlequin.
“We have a winner!” Clown the Jester announced, skipping with delight over to the Flight attendant.
Becky tried to run but a hidden force prevented her legs from cooperating. She was at the mercy of an animal. She tried to scream, but she couldn’t find the voice.
“Tell me Becky my sweet, are you afraid of heights?” Clown the Jester whispered into Becky’s ear. Becky cringed, feeling the Harlequin’s icy breath on her neck. “Well…you’ll be afraid of heights very soon. That’s a promise that I can keep. I may not be able to keep people alive, but by golly I can keep promises.”
Clown the Jester dragged Becky towards the open emergency exit door, forcing her head out the hatch to see the dark abysses of the world bellow the airplane. A flash of lightning followed by roar of thunder drowned out her screams.
“HAVE YOU EVER TRIED TO SWAN DIVE OFF THE HIGH BOARD INTO A POOL, BECKY?” Clown the Jester asked the trembling flight attendant. “I’M MORE OF A CANNON BALL KINDA GUY MYSELF! BUT YOU LOOK LIKE A SWAN DIVER! HAVE YOU EVER TRIED TO SWAN DIVE OF AN AIR PLANE 35,000 FEET OFF THE GROUND WITHOUT THE POOL? NOT THAT MUCH DIFFERENT! SAME STYLE AND WHAT NOT! THE NOISE IS THE ONLY DIFFERENCE REALLY! INSTEAD OF MAKING A SPLASH….YOU MAKE A SPLAT! WA HA HA HA HA! HO HO HO HO! HEE HEE! HEE HEE! HAPPY LANDINGS! HA HA HA HA! AHOO HOO HOO HOO!”
Clown the Jester raised his foot, about to push Becky over the ledge. To his astonishment, instead of his foot slamming into Becky’s back, it stepped over her entirely. Over the ledge of the plane. Clown the Jester let out a cry of surprise. He flailed his arms, trying desperately to find something to grab hold to. He was falling forward, out of the plane. He couldn’t stop himself. Everything was happening so fast.
He did not know what had happened. Maybe someone shoved him from behind. Maybe he misjudged Becky’s location. Maybe he still hadn’t adjusted to his new body. Or maybe it was something else inside him that made that step.
The Clown let out a scream of anger and terror as he plummeted. The wind violently tearing at his clothes and wild purple hair. His eyes darting around in a desperate attempt to understand what was happening.
The airplane above him growing smaller and smaller. He was falling. Plummeting hundreds of feet in a matter of seconds. The heavy pour of rain pelted his face. His entire body drenched. The world around him fell into darkness as he entered a dark thunder cloud. He continued to fall, letting out shriek after shriek. He had been dead for so many years. HE WASN’T READY TO GO BACK! The body he had possessed was weak…fragile…it couldn’t withstand such damage…even with his powers. Clown the Jester couldn’t think.
The dark cloud cleared revealing the bright yellow lights of a city far below him. So small…as if it was a miniature toy city. The city was growing larger and larger. How could this happen? It was Super City. The city he had destroy. How could this happen to him?!? He flailed his arms like a rag doll in the wind. Falling. Falling. What if he landed on Drakkoniss? Such impossible odds. Such bizarre chance. THAT WOULD BE HILARIOUS!
Clown the Jester let out a shrill laugh as he drew closer and closer.
“WA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! HEE HEE HEE HA HA HA HA! HOO HOO HOO HOO! HA HA HA! HOO HA HA HA! HEE HEE HEE HA HA HA! AHOO HOO HOO! HEE HEE! HA…”
Clown the Jester’s body landed in Market Street, his body landing not on Drakkoniss but an ice cream truck. The front of the truck caved in from the impact of Clown the Jester’s crash. The world was dimming. The Joke was fading. The figure should have been dead upon impact…however his broken neck raised his crushed head…life fading from the body.
“Free…” Colin Adams whispered softly. His eyes in a dream like trance. Colin’s breathing stopped.
…………………………………………………………………………………….
The official conclusion as to the events that led to Colin Adams’s death along with the claim that Clown the Jester, five years deceased, appearing on a commercial airplane on route from Pleasant Town to the soon to be reopened Super City was released in a press conference outside of Super City.
Investigations brought the conclusion that Colin Adams, a troubled youth had a nervous breakdown while on his flight and disguised himself as Clown the Jester, due to the traumas he experienced in Super City during the Chaos riots.
This sudden break down was brought about by a building pressure of his fears of flying (which was observed by Flight Attendant, Becky Norms), the pressures of the violent storm, and the pressure of returning to the city where his mother and father died among the countless victims of the Chaos Riots.
His mental breakdown led him to believe he was the actual Clown the Jester. Following his role, Colin murdered three onboard passengers and was about to murder a fourth when he slipped and fell out of the plane to his death. The government assured the people countless times that Clown the Jester was still considered dead. Colin Adams was considered a troubled youth. Nothing more.
Two days later, the funeral memorial for the victims of the flight as well as Colin Adams.
During the eulogy, Colin Adam’s uncle, Robert Adams cried out that he saw someone matching the profile of Clown the Jester standing over Colin’s casket as if paying his respects. However upon investigating, the figure was identified as Stafford Galosei, aka Brick House, aka Mr. Smiley.
Stafford Galosei was rumored to be the leader of the Clown Boy gang, a gang named after Clown the Jester. Galosei was interrogated by an unknown agent and was released a day later since the funeral was a public memorial and there was no evidence to incriminate Galosei of any crime. The entire matter was dropped since Galosei had no items to make him resemble a clown.
The event that took place 35,000 feet in the air one story night was considered a tragedy which the city hoped to put out of mind. Though such a dramatic experience would haunt the passengers of that flight for the rest of their lives. Every member on that flight was told that they did not witness the real Clown the Jester. Just an imposter dawning the appearance of the Harlequin.
These explanations were drilled into their heads…but they knew the truth. They knew who they saw that night, 35,00 feet in the air, one stormy night. They saw Clown the Jester. Real. Alive. Insane.
May God have mercy on their souls, because Clown the Jester would not. Each member of that flight was murdered in the following weeks. Their deaths contributed to accidents, muggings, and unrelated murders. It was said that every victim was still laughing when they were found.
No pulse. No breathing. No eye diolation to light. Just laughter.
Laughter, followed by swift silence…and nothing more.
< Message edited by Clown the Jester -- 1/2/2012 10:23:14 >
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