Chapter Text
Close, the shiver down your spine said, very close. You grit your teeth and glanced over your shoulder, just for a moment, and caught sight of a flash of circus red and a grimly grinning painted smile. Your gaze snapped back ahead as you frowned, pushing yourself to run faster. Your shoes slammed against the concrete, and your lungs felt like they would crack and splinter at any moment. And yet, the Clown still drew ever closer. You could hear him right behind you, faster despite everything against him, his wheezing laughter like a smothering smoke. You fought the urge to look behind yourself again, and instead, focused on the hook. You could feel your teammate’s struggles dying off, their strength fading, trying to hold off the hungry limbs of the Entity but fighting a losing battle by the second. It was now or never. You just needed a little more time, something...
There, to the left! A pallet! Nestled beside some cover, but the sight was unmistakeable. You inhaled sharply, then, with an extra burst of speed, ran through the gap. A terrible wheeze from behind you, and you spun on your heel, grabbing the corner of the pallet and slamming it down with all of your might. The Clown choked on air, and you spun again, running the rest of the way, leaving your pursuer to destroy the pallet– buying you the extra time you needed. Precious seconds, in a realm where seconds were everything.
“I’m here!” You shouted, watching as your teammate’s eyes flickered over to you, and then you stretched your arms out and up, standing on the tips of your toes as you lifted up. The claws of the Entity disappeared, scuttling away, and you gave a hearty grunt as you finally unhooked your friend, nearly dropping them onto the ground. They stumbled, grasping their bleeding side, but their eyes went wide as they looked over your shoulder and they opened their mouth to exclaim. You didn’t let them.
“Go!” You commanded, shoving them away, turning and raising your arm just in time to block the hit aimed for them. The piercing, sharp sense of pain flooded you, the heavy slash slicing across your torso. You screamed as loud as you could– to let your team know where to run from, to give them a chance– and then you screamed a second time, in pain, collapsing to the ground in a heap of red. Feebly, you held your hands to your chest, the blood gushing out despite the hands you pressed against the wounds. A rush of lightheadedness, at the blood loss, but you gasped and rolled to your stomach.
Laughter, as the Clown admired his work, the sound ending in another hacking cough. He peered at you, and then took a moment to leer, reaching out to pick you up. Suddenly, a noise, the sound of a distant explosion. The Clown frowned and huffed, standing back up to his full height as his head snapped over to the sound. He gave you one last glance, before he stomped away, leaving you alone in the dirt, in a pool of your own blood. You wheezed feebly, and began to slowly pull yourself across the ground, a gruesome trail of blood and gore following you. You just had to get away, somewhere away from the Clown, somewhere...
Footsteps. A heartbeat. You felt your eyes widen, and you forced yourself to roll over, into a patch of taller grass. The movement made you whimper, and you curled in on yourself, desperate to stop your groans of pain but still frantically trying to see what was happening.
You wished you hadn’t.
There, your teammate. The very same one you’d saved earlier. You gaped briefly, struggling to wonder why they hadn’t tried to run away, to go get someone else’s help. But, as the Clown threw your friend to the ground, you caught sight of a familiar finger, tied to a key ring. Two familiar fingers, actually. You twitched as if you could try and run away; there was no one left.
“Run,” You mouthed, watching with wide eyes as your teammate rose to their knees. They didn’t run. They didn’t even stand a chance. The Clown stabbed his blade deep into their shoulder, sending them sprawling across the ground. You silently pleaded a ‘no’, but it was useless. The Clown rose his boot up, and stomped savagely on their head. You could hear the sick cracks from here. And yet, your friend still tried to crawl away. You closed your eyes, but couldn’t stop the sounds, the subdued whimpers that ended with only final slam. In the silence, you reopened your eyes, thinking it was over. But instead, you watched the Clown as he severed the finger of your teammate, and then placed the digit in his mouth, sucking on it and smiling.
It was your own fault, this time, for failing to stifle your sob. You couldn’t help it, and so, the Clown turned to you, his smile growing larger. You keened, the warbling cry of the damned, a futile attempt by yourself to try and crawl away, the dirt caking your wounds. The Killer laughed and shook, walking over to you, his eyes shining with unrestrained glee. You kicked out and managed a single, terrified scream, as the Clown grabbed your leg and began to drag you towards the dead and desiccated body of your former teammate. He released you unceremoniously, and smiled even wider. He wasn’t just going to kill you quickly: he was going to take his time.
Your eyes snapped over to your friend’s corpse, landing on the blade still in his shoulder. As the Clown prepared with the utmost dark joy, you reached over, grabbing the knife and wiggling it free with a heave. The Clown turned around, and leaned down, towards you, his grimy hands going for your right arm. He yanked, hard, raising you off the ground, as he twisted to try and dislocate your shoulder and unsocket the arm. You screamed again, but, with the knife in your left hand, swung hard. There was a brief whiz, before the knife embedded itself in the Killer’s upper arm.
The Clown screamed, dropping you, and through some miracle of adrenaline and force of will, you were up. You weren’t fine– in fact, you felt blood spilling from your mouth, and you couldn’t move your right arm anymore– but you were up. That was important. You didn’t even pretend to look at the Clown as you bolted away.
You had one chance. It wasn’t even a chance, actually, it was more of a hope, a hope that burnt bright and could die just as quickly. You didn’t know if it would work. But, you had no other choice...