The sightings of clowns seemed weird, but harmless. Yes, they chased people, carried knives and bats, and didn't look like typical clowns. With the scary faces, it seemed obvious that laughter wasn't their goal. To be careful, various towns and states banned clown costumes. More or less to protect the fools in frothy colorful clothing than anything else though. But it all changed on Halloween.
The clowns showed up everywhere. Cities, towns, even places that included house pets in the population count to pad the numbers... They were in bright primary colors, wore wigs of various shades, and had faces both grotesque and scary. But it was their weapons that showed they weren't here for the candy. As to trick or treating... it depended upon what side of the costume you were on.
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For the last hour I have watched my little sister run up to house after house, her fairy wings bouncing and fluttering with her excited step. "Trick or Treat!," rang through the crisp night air. Ghouls, goblins, movie characters and more pushed through the crowded sidewalks, looking for a house with their lights on to obtain sweets from. I was tired and grouchy, ready to head home, but knew my sister wouldn't hear of that idea for at least two more blocks.
I can't help but smile when she turns. She hadn't been able to choose what she wanted to be, because she wanted to be everything. So she had a tutu of neon pink, green fairy wings, and a cowboy hat on. I had convinced her to leave the ninja sword at home, as she would need both hands to carry a bag full of candy. She skitters to a stop beside me and looked towards the next house. Four to go before we would hit up the next street.
I follow behind her as she breathlessly leads the way. I wish I could be with my friends tonight, but mom had to work a second shift in the ER (I have to give you girls a decent Christmas), so I'm stuck watching my kaleidoscope sister. I'm not mad. Just... bored. As I wait at the end of the last house, I look towards the next block. Something seems weird, but I can't place what it is. The urge to get back home hits me, but I refuse to let my sister down. Plus, Mom would be pissed if I didn't do this right.
The crowd has seemed to thin out a bit. Maybe it was later than I thought. I pull my phone from my pocket and see that the hospital has called three times. "Hey, Bailey, wait a sec. Mom called, let me see what's up." I put the phone to my ear to hear the messages.
"Felicia, it's Mom. Call me as soon as you get this."
Shrugging, I play the next message. "Felicia, this is serious, you need to call me. But, I think you should get Bailey home first. Do that, lock the doors, and then call me immediately."
I glance up to see Bailey digging through her bag of candy, and more costumes heading our way. I click on the next message.
"Felicia, don't trust clowns. Whatever you do, if you see one, you grab your sister and run. Do you hear me young lady!? Run! Get home, lock the doors, and hide!"
She had sounded terrified in that last message. Not at all like her level-headed, cool-as-ice mom. Brows furrowed, I call the hospital. One ring, two ring, "Thank you for calling Pacific General Hospital, all of our lines are currently busy. Please hold for the next available receptionist."
I look up to be sure Bailey hadn't bailed to the next block when I see that the costumes ten feet away are the very thing mom had warned me to run from. Bailey is oblivious as she digs through her bag.
"Bailey, run home, run home now!"
I don't know if it's my tone that makes her stand up right away or not. I can see the argument ready on her lips, but I think the expression on my face makes her stop and glance back the other way. And then she sees them. Clowns. Covered in gore. Faces frozen in looks to ensure bad dreams for the next decade. Baseball bats with nails impaled in them. Machetes dripping blood.
Bailey turns and runs passed me, her scream an almost tangible scarf fluttering behind her. I turn and run after her. I try to formulate a plan. Get to the house, unlock the door, get inside, close the door, lock the door, and then what? Where do we hide? Closets are cliché. Under beds and in the basement never work out well in the movies. I realize I still have the phone pressed to my ear when a woman's voice asks if anyone is there.
"I need to talk to Nurse Gray in the ER immediately."
"I'm sorry ma'am, but the ER is a bit overwhelmed at the moment, may I take a message?"
"This is her daughter, Felicia Gray. My little sister and I are being chased by clowns, and I need to talk to my mom!"
She felt bile inching up her throat, panic wasn't far behind. She didn't want to look over her shoulder, she didn't want to know how close they were. The woman was yammering about give her a moment to transfer her. She watched her sister's green fairy wings as they bounced with her every stride. The girl could be a track star. If they made it home in time, and found a place to hide.
"Felicia! Baby! Where are you?"
She felt her throat close and her eyes filled with tears. She needed her mommy.
"We are almost to the end of our street, we have clowns chasing us, Mom! What do we do?"
"Run baby, just keep runn-"
Felicia watched the sidewalk suddenly come up to meet her face. The phone shattered as she landed. She hadn't tripped. What just happened? She tried to push up and look behind her all at once, and her heart stopped. Her leg lay behind her, but not attached to her. A machete lay beside her. An obscenely large plastic shoe stopped next to her face. She looked up the length of a polka-dotted pant leg to the terror inducing face above her. There was no over-sized red nose. Pain exploded in her head. The world went dark as her sister screamed.
Shay Leigh is the author of Sins Within and Sinless Within, which can be found on Amazon.com. She writes Poetry, Paranormal, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Mystery and Thriller.
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