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sassy16.peperonity.net

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As the door slams closed behind me, I find myself in the lobby of the old Asylum and immediately notice the sound of something faint. A unique and unusual sound… at first I think it’s my mind playing tricks on me. The lobby smells of dust and mold. I look around the strange, darkened room, and soon see a newspaper clipping on the floor. The article appears to be from the city paper and its old corners have been singed by fire. The clipping is being held down by a small rock but continues to waive as if being moved by wind. I feel no breeze but the paper’s wind like movements are unmistakable. I move the small rock and cautiously pick up the article, the sound still in my ears. It sounds like it is coming from down a distant unseen hall. The paper is old and the ink is faded, but still legible.

“Killer Clown Admitted to City Asylum. Today a four foot tall man was admitted into the city asylum after admitting to local authorities that he had killed six children from different parts of the state, dressed as a clown. He also admitted that this was not the only state he had visited. In his confession, the man…” I can still hear the sound and it is beginning to get louder. Suddenly, as the sound becomes more and more clear, I realize it is not in my head. I know exactly what the sound is. The chipper tune would usually incite memories of child hood fun anywhere else. Upon hearing this music, one might think of elephants, and jugglers, and tight rope walking acrobats, but not in this place. The sound might make one think of… clowns. The sound was circus music. I start to feel as if I am being watched as my gaze slowly rises from the clipping and I see what appears to be a child in a clown suit grinning at me, his body transparent. I can barely make out the blues and whites in his half stripped and half polka-dotted costume. Dry red and brown splatters cover the suit and in some places, what I can only assume is blood drips from the sleeves and off the fuzzy balls that line the front of the bizarre outfit. I take as step back; I feel my mouth open and begin breathing deeply as it soon becomes apparent that he isn’t a child at all, but a small man. Smoke rolls from his mouth as he opens it to speak.

“Welcome, welcome, welcome!” The Clown says quickly in a high-pitched voice. “Welcome indeed to The Asylum. The place that bends the mind so far that it snaps in two. Tonight, my new friend you will witness some true terrors! Some of the GREATEST horrors of all times came from the minds of mad men. Simply consider Poe, a great writer, but crazier than the midnight loon! If twisted tales touch your heart then beware yourself for you are not what you seem. In this asylum there are two kinds of people, the destined and the damned. Which are you? You can find out here... These are the glimpses into a world you may not understand and they don’t come cheap, the price for admission is your sanity,” he says as he does a handspring towards me, “…so WELCOME!”

The clown walks a few steps closer and looks at me from the ground up before he continues. When he is close enough for me to touch I begin to smell him as he talks, His breath is fire hot and smells of rotting fish. “Welcome to my Circus. I am your ringmaster. You will learn from me. You will fear me. You may grow to hate me. You may even worship me like the God of the lost children that I am. Now you are in my circus… enjoy the show! It is staring the cannibal clowns, the rabid ringmaster, moa, and the jugglers, note the limbs that they throw with ease! This is a place where children foam at the mouth and the rings are made of the skulls of beasts. The place where the tight rope walkers always fall to the spikes below, but hey, that gives the animals something to eat, so all is not lost and a good time is always had by all! Step right up! You probably wonder how, exactly, you get into this twisted little show. You already have. The asylum is my circus, bitch! How did I become the ringmaster? Well let me tell you… I am but a psycho clown in a straight jacket giggling uncontrollably. A madness, which as over come me, controls my every action, right down to the twitch. The nectar of life drips from my palms where I have clenched my fists a little too tight. My wide eyes are not the windows into my soul like yours may be, but a peak into an insane world no normal man would dare venture.” He said as his voice deepened to that of a nine foot man. “The smile of a clown, the darkness of a serial killer, and the hunger of a cannibal, this is me. You see, I hide the truth from the outside world: the madness in your world is the sanity in mine. Your nightmares are my twisted reality.

I eat your fear. FEED ME YOUR FEAR.”

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