Serial Saturday: Willie the Clown, Part 2 by Rachael Chang

  1. Serial Saturday: Willie the Clown, Part 1 by Rachael Chang
  2. Serial Saturday: Willie the Clown, Part 2 by Rachael Chang
  3. Serial Saturday: Willie the Clown, Part 3 by Rachael Chang
  4. Serial Saturday: Willie the Clown, Part 4 by Rachael Chang
  5. Serial Saturday: Willie the Clown, Part 5 by Rachael Chang
  6. Serial Saturday: Willie the Clown, Part 6 by Rachael Chang
  7. Serial Saturday: Willie the Clown, Part 7 by Rachael Chang

 

Willie the Clown: Part Two

 

CHAPTER 3

 

 I sprint up towards Cameron and Paige, clutching onto Cam’s arm as tightly as I can. My hands shake as I hold onto him, but he doesn’t even seem to notice, which is strange. He’s always checking on me constantly, making sure I’m ok, even when we’re not in a terrible, creepy-ass tunnel. 

   “Hey guys, check this out!” Cameron whispers excitedly as he pans his dim flashlight over towards the right side of the wall. 

   I gasp in shock as I see a freaky, grotesque looking clown spray painted on the wall. It’s outlined in red, complete with a huge, round, red nose and creepy, large eyes that are too close together. It smiles from ear-to-ear, its nose drooping down over it. I don’t know why this picture is disturbing; maybe because of the fact that it’s a clown, but it could be because…something about it just…doesn’t seem right. 

    “Cam are you filming this?! This is so badass!” Paige exclaims happily. 

   “Yeah, duh,” Cam says, scanning his phone all around the tunnel as he films the art. 

   “Ok, we found some creepy clown art, we’ll definitely get bonus points for that. Can we just get out now? Please guys?” I beg, my heart rate beginning to speed up erratically. 

  “Yeah we really should be heading back. It smells awful in here anyways, and it’s cold,” Paige complains, finally siding with me. 

   “Would you guys stop being pansies already? I wanna go deeper; I’ve heard there’s more clown art down there, and it gets even scarier too,” Cam says as he stops filming the art. 

    “No Cam, we’ve gotten enough footage, and we’re leaving. Now!” I say, my tone harsh.

   With that, Paige and I whip around and start heading back, leaving Cam behind. I know he’ll snap out of it and start following us soon, but after we get about teen feet away from him, I realize he’s still not behind us. 

    “Hey, Maddie? Where’s Cam?” 

    I turn around, staring in the spot where Cam was, but he’s nowhere to be seen. For some reason, my heart starts beating out of my chest as my anxiety worsens. What the hell? Cam was just there…did he…did he go deeper into the tunnel alone?

  “Cam? Cam you’d better not be pranking us! Cam? Where are you?” I call out, my voice echoing down the long tunnels.

   As I pan my flashlight to the left, I briefly get distracted by some graffiti on the walls. When I see what’s written there, a chill goes down my spine. It reads: 

   Beware of clowns.

  Paige gasps behind me and clutches my arm, her hands shaking. “That-that’s not real right? It-it’s just a joke…right?” She asks, her voice cracking with fear. 

   I decide not to waste anymore time looking at the graffiti. “CAM?! CAM COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW! WE’RE LEAVING! CAM!” I scream, not caring how loud I’m being. 

   As Paige and I stand there, trembling with both fear and cold, I suddenly see something dart in front of my flashlight way in the distance. All I see is a black blob. At first, I immediately think it’s Cam, and a sigh of relief escapes me. But…something seems strange. I know Cam. He wouldn’t go this far to pull off a prank to scare me and Paige this badly. It wasn’t his personality. Was that…was that really him?

   “Cam? Is-is that you?” Paige calls, her voice a whisper. 

   Suddenly, Paige screams in terror and the next thing I know, she collapses on the ground in front of me, her body falling into a puddle of disgusting sewer water. I jump back, startled, unsure of what just happened. But…before I can do anything, or even try to run, I feel something heavy slam against my head. I fall face-down next to Paige. 

   As my eyes slowly begin to close, the last thing I remember seeing is a blurry figure of a man in a clown costume. I try to get a better look at him but then…everything goes completely black. 

 

CHAPTER 4

 

Darkness. All that surrounds me is complete and utter darkness. As I sit there on the cold floor in the tiny closet, I try to find some sort of blanket, anything to keep me warm. But all I have is the paper-thin clothes that are covered in holes to keep me warm. I want to get out, to stretch my legs, and to feel sunlight. However, when I try to stand up, I can’t even do that. 

   “I told you I don’t know where that little shit ran off to! You’d know if you weren’t working all the damn time!” I hear a man’s voice yell. 

   That man. It was the same man who’d thrown the little boy into the fire earlier. But who was he talking to? And why was he acting like he didn’t know what had happened to him? I wondered. 

    “You did something to him didn’t you?! Where is he? I know you know where he is! If you don’t tell me right now, I’m calling the police! And where the hell is Willie?!” A woman’s voice shrieks angrily. 

   “The kid’s in there, he’s fine. Would ya quit your bitchin’ already? You’re giving me a damn headache!” The man shouts. 

   “You locked Willie in the pantry?! What the hell is wrong with you? Get out of my house. Now!” I hear the woman yell. Then, I hear what sounds like a hard slap, and something falls on the floor, making a loud THUD! I can only assume that was the woman falling because maybe the man slapped her so hard she fell. 

   “Listen to me you bitch. You don’t get to kick me out. I’m the one who runs shit around here, ya got that?! I’m in charge of the kids, not you! So shut the hell up!”

    I keep waiting anxiously for the woman to unlock the pantry door and get me the hell out of here. But as I sit there waiting, and waiting, and waiting, nobody helps me. Nobody gets me out of the pantry. I begin to realize that the woman is just going to listen to the man, and do whatever he says. Like she’s his servant. 

    “That’s what I thought. You ever try to talk back to me again, you die. Understand?”

   The last thing I hear is the man’s footsteps heading towards the back of the house. As I listen closely, I also hear what sounds like the woman crying. It’s very faint, but I hear her sobbing as she lays there on the floor.

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