Waking up from a deep sleep is never easy. Your body wants you to wake up, but your mind is as dead as… well, the dead that didn’t rise yet. That is exactly how I felt when I woke up. My eyes were open, but my mind was not fully functional yet. I’m not sure how long I slept, but it only felt like an instant. I was still tired as hell and could lie there on the disgusting porn shop bed forever.
A muffled sound rung in my ears and finally got me to lift my tired body off the bed. I sat upright on the edge of the bed and then I heard the sound again. It almost sounded like someone calling out to me in a distant dream. I rubbed my eyes and tried to focus them when I heard the sound again.
“Zac!” Fred called out.
It took me a split second to wake up and get the energy flowing again. I jumped up and rushed out of the viewing room. I burst into the sales floor of the shop and then stopped dead in my tracks. There are only two things on this planet that I feared… and one of them stood in the middle of the shop.
A few feet away stood an obese man dressed in a yellow and green clown suit. He had scruffy, curly red hair and a red nose. He turned to me and I saw that half of his face was chewed off. Blood dripped from his mouth and onto his faded clown suit. He was the biggest clown I had ever seen. How I hated clowns! It could have been anything else. Why could it not have been a lawyer or fireman?
“What the hell is that?” I asked frozen in fear.
“It’s a damned clown!” Fred said.
The clown stood motionless; stared at me and then at the other two to his left. He did not charge or make a sound. It simply stood there as if knowing that its outfit was enough to scare us half to death and it was savouring the pleasure.
“Where did it come from?” I whispered.
“There is a back door.” Fred said, “It was unlocked.”
“Is it locked now?” I asked.
“I’m not going to check.” Fred defended himself.
“What are we going to do about this bozo?” Henry asked.
“Clowns freak me the hell out!” Fred said.
“Me too.” I added.
“If he makes balloon zombies I am out of here.” Fred said.
Henry was not sure why were more upset about the fact that the zombie was a clown rather than the fact that a zombie was in the shop with us.
“Why are you afraid of clowns?” Henry asked.
The clown stared at Henry and smiled half a mouth of crooked, blood stained teeth. Henry took a step back to keep his distance, but the clown did not make a move.
“Have you never heard of It lives in the sewers?” Fred asked.
Henry shook his head.
“It’s a book by Stephen Queen.” I added.
The clown jerked his head around and stared at me. It looked me up and down with those hollow eyes, but did not make a move as I slowly reached for the coiled-up whip that hung from my belt.
“Who?” Henry asked, making the clown look at him.
“Stephen Queen!” I bellowed.
The clown jerked its head to look at me and I could hear its spine crack. The clown licked its lips and then more blood flowed down his chin.
“He is the most famous horror writer in existence.” I said, “They made a movie about the book.”
“Oh.” Henry said daftly, “What is it about?”
“It is about a clown that lives in a sewer.” Fred insisted, “What do you think it is about? It is a book called It lives in the sewers.”
The clown shifted and stared at Fred, who took a step back. The clown kept staring at him as blood oozed out of the gaping wound in his face.
“Can we not discuss the book right now?” I exclaimed.
The clown jerked around and stared me dead in the eye. It fidgeted with its hands and gnarled. It was the thing nightmares were made of. All my childhood fears about the clown monster in the closet or underneath the bed came flooding back. Why did it have to be a clown that came into the adult store?
“Why is it just standing there?” Fred asked.
The clown slowly rotated its head to look at Fred as its spine crackled. The sound made a chill run down my spine and my body froze.
“It’s like he is listening to what we are saying…” Fred said.
“Is that even possible?” Henry asked.
I slowly let the whip disentangle and took a firm hold of the handle. I would put the clown down when it was not looking.
“Stranger things have happened.” Fred said.
“Hey.” Henry asked the clown, “Is it true that zombies don’t eat clowns cuz you taste funny?”
The clown tilted its head and scrutinized Henry.
“That’s just dumb.” Fred said, “If zombies don’t eat clowns, how in the hell did he become one?”
“It was a joke.” Henry asserted.
Henry shoved the clown towards Fred and yelled, “Tag, you’re it!”
The clown groaned as it flung itself towards Fred who jumped out of the way.
“What the hell?” Fred gasped.
Henry laughed hysterically and it was obvious he didn’t share in our fear of clowns.
“I don’t want it.” Fred yelled out, “You take it!”
Fred shoved the clown at Henry and it put up little fight as it flung towards Henry like a Weeble-Wobble toy.
“I don’t want it either.” Henry said jokingly. “You take it.”
Henry shoved the clown towards Fred again, but this time the clown put its foot down and stood still. The clown looked at both of them and I saw my opportunity. I threw the whip into a half wave; the tip made a sonic boom as it cracked through the air and coiled up around the clown’s neck. I pulled on the whip and the grip tightened, slicing into the flesh of its neck. A mere second later, the clown grabbed the whip and gave it a mighty tug; sending me flying across the room and I came crashing down against the wall of sex toys. The clown untwined the whip from around its neck and dropped it to the floor. Its face contorted with anger and it let out a ferocious roar.
I noticed that the pink cockzilla lay next to my foot so I picked it up. It was the first and hopefully the last time I would touch a dildo. I stood up while the clown roared as it took a step towards me. Blood spittle landed on my face – so disgusting. I had to put an end to the clown.
“No more clowning around.” I said firmly.
With a swift move and all of my might I shoved the gigantic dildo into its eye. There was a sound of shattering skull followed by brains being pulverised and then the clown fell to the ground. It lay on its back with the giant dildo sticking out of its skull like a flagpole – the plastic testicles being the flag of course.
I let out a sigh of relief and so did Fred. I had overcome my childhood fear of clowns. I only had one more fear to conquer and hoped it would not be any time soon.
“That was not funny.” Fred said, “No pun intended.”
“What do you call a dead clown?” Henry asked and snorted at his joke.
“Who cares?” Fred said with a sigh, “Enough with the clown jokes. They’re not funny.”
“Clowns or the jokes?” Henry asked.
This conversation was bound for an eternal loop of stupidity so I changed the subject.
“What time is it?” I asked.
Henry looked at his watch and said, “Three AM.”
“I slept for only twenty minutes?” I asked disappointed.
I was no longer tired and could not fall asleep even if I wanted to. And besides, I would probably dream about that crazed cannibal clown.
“Is the back door secured?” I asked.
“I’ll go check.” Henry said.
Henry disappeared into the shadows at the back leaving Fred and I behind. Fred stepped closer to me.
“Are you alright?” He asked.
I nodded and said, “I’m fine.”
“Look,” Fred said, “I hate to bring this up, but my daughter… I am not from this town and don’t know where the cemetery is.”
&n
bsp; “It’s a few blocks from here.” I said, “We should find a car with fuel and then go look for your daughter.”
Fred nodded. It was not what he wanted to hear. He wanted me to say we will find his daughter first, but he knew it wouldn’t be wise if we didn’t have a vehicle.
“If your daughter is any bit the fighter you are, she will be alright.” I said.
The words soothed his aching heart, but not the burning in his soul. I could and would never understand what he was going through unless I had a missing daughter of my own.
Henry came rushing in and nearly gave me a fright.
“Back door is secure.” He announced.
“Good.” I said, “But I think we should be leaving.”
“Those things are still out front.” Henry said.
“Are there any out back?” I asked.
“I didn’t see any in the alley when I closed the door.” Henry replied.
“Then we leave through the back door.” I said.
“Where are we going?” Henry asked.
“To the cemetery.” Fred said, “To find my daughter.”
“You think she is still alive?” Henry asked.
Silence befell the room as it was a question Fred had probably asked himself many times over and over. The thought of your daughter being amongst the dead can break any man and a broken man was just as good as dead.
“I don’t think so.” I said confidently, “I know so.”