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arts-bloody-rose · 3 days ago

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Blood of A Rose - Part 4 (Art the Clown x Fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Summary - (Y/n) begins to notice Art suddenly growing more distant and she spirals into insecurity and concern. He reassures her and opens up about what has been occurring, but the events to follow will forever change the course of their lives together.

Notes - Y’all it’s here!! Definitely finished sooner than I thought, crazy what motivation does to someone lol. This is probably my favorite of all of the works I’ve done for Art and I’m so excited to bring you all on this journey! Without further ado, enjoy the show.

Word Count - 7,287

Warning(s): Blood/gore, violence, insecurity, smut, self-harm, suicide/sacrifice (don’t worry)

Song Inspiration -

ZAND - I Spit On Your Grave

Lewis Blisset - Killing Butterflies

(Y/n) entered the work room with a heavy sigh, tearing the fresh newspaper before tossing it into the trash. Art waved at her half-heartedly from where he worked at his bench, not bothering to face her as he focused.

She set down a small cardboard box on her stool and looked around for a moment.

“Can I use that knife for a moment?” She asked the clown casually. Art gave her a suspicious side-eye before reluctantly passing her a steak knife. “Thank you.”

She cut at the tape, opening her new shipment of paint before handing the knife back to him and unpacking the box.

“Anything crazy happen when I was gone?” She asked, but then quickly answered for him before he could even comprehend the question. “No? Good.”

Art stared at her in disbelief, expressing a blatant what the fuck as he squinted. He watched as (Y/n) tossed away the box and sighed again as she hung her camera around her neck, his signal to get up.

The clown put his hands on his hips and gave her a stern look. Her gaze softened and she gave him a gentle smile.

“I’m okay, I’m just in a bit of a mood.” She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed his cheek, Art simply poking the tip of her nose with an approving nod before grabbing his bag.

“Man or woman tonight?” (Y/n) questioned as she played with the ruffled fabric at the bottom of his sleeve, eyes focused on the sidewalk they followed. “Or both?” She added and Art pointed at her with a mischievous grin, agreeing. “We should find a couple, but that might be harder to find. Could always just get a man and woman separately and -“

Art slapped his free hand over her mouth and they froze, (Y/n) looking up at him expectedly.

Voices were heard speaking casually in the distance and she followed his gaze, coincidentally spotting a couple walking out of a restaurant. Art grinned mischievously and removed his hand from her mouth, the two of them sharing an eager expression, then simultaneously looking back at the couple before stalking forward.

Art disappeared into an alleyway while (Y/n) continued to follow the couple from behind them.

“Excuse me?” She innocently caught their attention. They turned to see her, the man more skeptical while the woman was more concerned. “My friend just collapsed, I think she blacked out, but I’m not sure and I don’t know what to do.” (Y/n) panicked, fidgeting with her hands.

“Sure thing hun, where is she?” The woman politely pressed further.

“She’s just over here.” (Y/n) motioned to the alleyway not far from them. The woman stepped forward to follow her, the man hesitating before shaking his head and following reluctantly.

As they turned into the alleyway, (Y/n) slowed to stand behind them as they wandered further, looking into the seemingly empty space. The woman turned to question (Y/n) when a loud thud sounded as a plank rammed against her head, sending her into the brick wall.

The man shouted as he watched her fall, his gaze then trailing to trace the figure of the monochromatic clown that stood menacingly in front of him. The man gasped and quickly spun around to leave, only to come face to face with (Y/n) who casually leaned against the wall. She raised her hand, wiggling her fingers at him in a wave before ramming his skull into the wall, his body collapsing next to his partner.

Art laughed wildly with glee in her participation, dropping the board and clapping his hands. He turned to his bag as (Y/n) lifted her camera, adjusting it then snapping a couple of photos as the couple groaned in pain together.

When Art stood straight once more, she turned her back to them and leaned against the wall again, watching the street while she patiently waited.

After long, Art tapped her on the shoulder and presented the now mangled pair, (Y/n) tilting her head in thought. After minor deliberation, Art propped them up against the wall to sit next to each other, leaning against the other with the woman’s head on the man’s shoulder.

(Y/n) crouched, catching different angles and lighting while Art watched her work, taking in her form and focus with admiration. He caught the sound of new voices, head snapping as his smile dropped ever so slightly before stepping towards the opening of the alleyway.

He reached the entrance, peeking his head out and looking both ways. He caught sight of a trio of teenagers, two brunettes and a blonde as they giggled. His eyes squinted when the shorter brunette turned her face more into his view, rage subtly beginning to simmer as his eyes glimmered in recognition.

“What’s the matter?” (Y/n) asked when she stepped beside him, following his line of sight to see the same three girls. “You want them too?” She furrowed her brow when he didn’t acknowledge her. “Art?”

He finally broke away from them and looked over at her, waving his hand off in dismissal.

“Let’s get going, then.” She watched as he cast the disappearing girls one last look before turning to grab his bag, then took her hand as he came up to her and began their walk back home. (Y/n) looked back at the group one last time with suspicion.

As the two of them laid in their bed, (Y/n) couldn’t help but remember Art’s strange behavior earlier. She tried to focus on his steady breathing and the beat of his heart, his fingers that mindlessly caressed her shoulder. But it couldn’t distract her enough to brush it off.

She felt Art tap her shoulder, feeling the unsteady rhythm of her heart that contrasted his own. (Y/n) looked up at him and he tilted his head at her in a silent question.

She took a deep breath and sighed. “What was that earlier? With those girls?”

Art’s lips twitched, then he waved his hand as if to say it was nothing.

“You’ve never done that before.” (Y/n) pressed. Art frowned and a firm finger raised, warning her to not worry. She laid her head back down on his chest in defeat and he rubbed her shoulder, soothing her to help her fall asleep.

(Y/n) stood in darkness. A void. Surrounded by nothing. She turned to see the silhouette of what seemed to be the shorter brunette from the trio, a nauseous feeling settling in (Y/n)’s stomach as tears welled up in her eyes.

As she felt one trickle down her cheek, a hand cradled her chin and turned her head to face them. She was met with the beautiful green eyes of her infamous clown, falling into a trance as her legs began to lose feeling, jellifying under his piercing gaze.

But when she reached up to his face, he disappeared.

Her eyes fluttered open, the spot next to her on the bed cold and empty. Her eyes looked towards the boarded window, seeing no light shining through. She reached for her phone on the nightstand, checking the time.

3:47.

(Y/n) stood with a sigh and rubbed at her tired eyes, sluggishly walking towards the door and leaving the room in search of Art. She entered the work room, expecting to find him sitting at his bench. But there was no sign of him.

She checked the other rooms they rarely used, thinking he might’ve been in a more sporadic mood. But again, no sign.

She meandered back over to her door when the entrance of the building opened and in walked the man in question, though without his bag and without more blood than she had fallen asleep to.

He paused in the doorway, staring at her with his usual grin and she felt a pang in her chest, looking him up and down before disappearing back into her room without further acknowledgement.

Art cocked his head back in confusion, smile faltering at her behavior. He thought about following her, comforting her or cheering her up in some way. But he decided against it and made his way to his bench.

She felt another pang in her chest when she heard him begin to hammer away, hoping that he would join her.

Her mind raced, jumping to conclusion after conclusion.

Something wasn’t right, that much was evident. It didn’t start until he saw the group of girls. He wasn’t bothered, no. She knew him well enough to know that.

No, what she saw in his eyes was determination. Sadistic, violent determination that worried her more than it should have. So much so that an uneasy feeling began to settle in her stomach. A feeling she hadn’t felt during the nearly full year they had been together.

Uncertainty.

During her turmoil, she fell back asleep, exhausted from the events of the night and her unfiltered thoughts.

When she awoke the next day, the sun was up as rays showed between the boards. (Y/n) stared up at the ceiling for a few moments, mind quiet as she slowly blinked.

Eventually, she stood and changed into a different outfit, sighing as she adjusted her clothes and finished getting ready before walking out towards the work room.

Her spirits lifted when she saw Art’s back to her at his bench this time, toying with one of his creations. She shuffled behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso and feeling him relax beneath her. One of his hands reached down to pat her forearm, settling on top of it as he felt her cheek press against his back.

“Missed you last night.” (Y/n) mumbled against him and his finger caressed her wrist in acknowledgment.

She finally let go and stepped to stand beside him, kissing his cheek then sitting on her stool.

“Sharpening?” (Y/n) asked as he ran one of his knives along a metal rod and nodded. “Getting ready for something special, then?” She continued and yawned.

Art nodded again, slower as he was deep in thought. He tossed the knife back into his bag sat beside him and stood, (Y/n)’s eyes following him curiously as he twisted the opening into a handle and slung it over his shoulder.

“We’re going out during the day?”

Art shook his head, slicing his hand across the air to tell her no. He pointed at her and made the motion again and her eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“You don’t want me to go…?”

Art’s eyes widened at the evident pain in her voice, waving his hand in front of him and shaking his head more vigorously in a panic to console her.

“Then why shouldn’t I go?” She stood and her voice raised a little, the rate of her heart beginning to pick up.

Art motioned for her to calm down and take a deep breath, pointing between the two of them and giving her an ok symbol. He rested his free hand on her shoulder and bent down to kiss her nose, walking backwards towards the exit and giving her a thumbs up for reassurance.

As (Y/n) heard the door close, she began to hyperventilate as her mind raced with thoughts she never imagined were possible being with Art.

Why didn’t he want her with him? Was there someone else? Was he growing tired of her?

The image of the girl from her dream, manifesting from the trio they saw that night entered her mind.

Tears pricked at her eyes and she breathed heavily, pacing the room that now felt colder than usual and empty. A choked sob slipped past her lips and she covered her mouth.

“No…” (Y/n) denied the possibility of him cheating on her. How could someone so simple take his attention away from her? From the relationship they had built together for so long?

Unless the girl wasn’t as simple as she thought.

“No, no, no -“ She repeated to herself in desperation, and fell to her knees, arms wrapping around herself in false comfort.

She cried, the dam she so proudly held finally breaking as everything came crashing down onto her in that moment. She crawled across the floor to lean back against the wall, head tilted back as she continued, looking up at the ceiling helplessly.

After some time, her throat grew raw and her cries died down to sniffling and shaky breaths. She finally looked down from the ceiling to the concrete floor, catching a glimmer of something out of the corner of her eyes.

She turned her head to see a simple kitchen knife laying a few feet away, taunting her as the blade shined beneath the single bulb hanging from the center of the dull room.

(Y/n) stared at it for a few moments, a defeated sob working its way out of her throat as she slowly reached for it. She simply looked at it as she held it in her lap, contemplating.

Her breathing grew labored, trembling as she slowly rolled up the sleeve of her left arm. The blade was lifted to the skin, just barely grazing the surface when she heard the front door open and she yanked it away, standing up in a rush.

Her heart raced when she heard familiar footsteps grow closer, closer until the clown entered, bag nowhere to be seen. He looked around for a moment, eyes squinted in observation before he spotted her.

His grin immediately dropped at the sight before him. Her sleeve was up, blade in her other hand and shaking in her grasp. What disturbed him more than the blade was the raw emotion in her eyes. Emotions he would typically drink in with pleasure.

Panic, fear. Pain.

(Y/n) froze, unsure of what was going through his head, the sight of his frown unsettling in that moment. She took a step forward, face set in determination.

“Who is she?” She choked out. No response. “Who is she!” (Y/n) shouted, breaking.

Art slowly shook his head, forgetting about his theatrics with her state and stepping closer to her.

“Who is she to be more deserving of your attention?” Tears began to flow down her cheeks once more. “What does she offer that I don’t?” Her voice cracked.

Art simply stood, unmoving as he took in her words.

“Answer me!” She screamed desperately.

He watched as (Y/n) looked down in defeat, then at her arm, then slowly back up at him. And Art noticed the familiar look of determination. The one he himself was so well acquainted with.

Before he could understand what was happening, she quickly ran the blade across her inner forearm, effectively slicing the skin as red began to flow down in gentle streams and drip onto the floor.

Art lurched forward and snatched the blade from her hand, tossing it to the side as it clattered onto the floor. He gritted his teeth at her, frustrated as she stared at him with tear-stained cheeks. He looked down at the wound she inflicted, observing the damage.

It wasn’t deep enough to cause fatal harm, but it was a decent gash that would take some time to heal. He pressed the sleeve of his own forearm against it, soaking the blood and adding pressure to prevent further bleeding.

He frowned as he looked back at her after hearing a sob, shaking his head at her in disappointment.

“Please don’t leave me…” His brow furrowed. “I’ll do anything.” She whispered desperately and his expression softened in realization. “Please…” She watched as his gaze pierced through her and felt a strange pressure in her head, followed by an odd sense of comfort and adoration.

Art suddenly leaned in and their lips met in sweet, demented unison. He tasted the salt of her tears, as did she as pressure was added to their kiss and she was flooded with overwhelming emotion.

Her uninjured arm desperately reached up around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer as she stood on her toes. His own free arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her into him, then he suddenly lifted her up bridally.

(Y/n) gripped onto him as if her life depended on it, burying her face in his neck as he brought them to her room and placed her on the bed, hovering over her.

Their lips met once more and they desperately clawed at each other, eager to prove that the other was real. Art moved down to her neck, biting and sucking harshly as she jumped and breathed heavily for an alternate reason.

His hands bruisingly gripped her waist as he ground himself into her, taking in her harmonious hums of pleasure. His hands slipped beneath her shirt, raising it to reveal the skin beneath until it was pulled over her head, mindful of her cut that he continued to press dry every now and then.

His teeth dragged down her neck, in between her breasts, gloved hands desperately kneading them through her bra and growing frustrated with the fabric. He reached under her and toyed with the clip, eventually unclamping it and tugging it off before he returned to her breasts to continue his mannerisms.

She sighed as his mouth aggressively latched on to one of her nipples, toying with it and rubbing himself on her thigh that he straddled. (Y/n) yelped when he bit down particularly hard, her thigh meeting his erect member and his head leaned back, eyes closed and mouth open at the unexpected pressure.

Art licked down her stomach, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake and tugged off her pants and underwear impatiently, breathing hotly against her core. He grit his teeth in anticipation, looking up at her as she gazed at him with hooded eyes, hand reaching down to grasp at his shoulder.

He then leaned in and began to ravage her pussy, dragging out a moan from her as her head dug into the pillow beneath her. His movements were erratic and desperate, fingers digging into her thighs and kneading them as he rocked his hips into the mattress.

Her hips lifted to meet his tongue, practically grinding into his mouth and his chest rumbled in approval, growling noiselessly as he let her use him for herself.

As her pitch and volume heightened, he focused on bringing her to the brink of her orgasm, hands roaming up and down her figure.

Just as she neared the edge, he pulled away and she sighed, looking down at him with a pleading expression. Art looked up at her and crawled his way up the length of her body with an animalistic bearing, biting at her bottom lip and delving in to taste her lips once more.

(Y/n) reached around to undo his zipper, pulling it down and sliding the fabric of his suit off of his shoulders as he took over to bring it down the rest of the way until his erection was freed.

Their teeth clashed as he rubbed his tip against her center, using his hand to rub the moisture over the rest of his heavy cock. She whined as she felt him poke at her, sighing when his hips rolled and his member slipped past her folds and buried itself into her.

Art wasted no time in waiting, setting a steady rhythm as his mouth worked its way down her neck again, settling on sucking aggressively at the delicate skin. One of his arms reached beneath her, hooking his hand on her shoulder to pull her into him as he thrusted into her. His other pressed against her forearm to block the wound, taking her mind away from the aching pain as his speed increased.

She cried out in pure bliss, hand resting on the back of his neck and holding him against her as her thighs pulled back. He angled himself upwards, finding the area she loved so sweetly as she nearly screamed into his ear.

He licked up and down her neck through his grin, pounding into her with newfound aggression as she clung onto him. Her eyes rolled back, closing as her mind grew foggy with intense pleasure.

With a few more thrusts, she was thrown over the edge and arched her back, pressing herself into him as she rode out her high. Art watched her with lust clouded eyes, thrusts growing sloppy as he chased his own release. She felt him pulse within her and moaned at the sensation, feeling him fill her more than before and looked down at where they met.

Art huffed silently and pulled out, collapsing next to her with a lazy smile. He looked down at her arm and frowned, giving her a for shame motion with his fingers. (Y/n) met his patronizing gaze with doe eyes, wide and filled with unanswered questions.

“What are you hiding from me?” She whispered, dreading the answer.

Art held up a finger, as if to say first. He pointed between the two of them, then waved a careless hand out into the room to show nothing else in the world mattered to him but themselves.

“Then what is happening? What is so special about that girl?” (Y/n) sat up, invested in what was going on and he followed her up.

Art pointed to himself, then to the window to represent the girl, then ran a finger across his neck and made an after motion.

“Why not just kill her and be done with it since you’re so determined?”

Art shook his head then grinned mischievously. He balled his hands into fists, putting one over the other and slowly twisting.

“You want to torture her?” Art nodded. “You can’t just do that right before you kill her like everyone else?” Art shook his head again.

He pointed between the window - the girl - and himself, slicing at the air in front of him with his arms then folding them in front of himself like a child throwing a temper. He then pointed back at the window, then himself, then slid a finger across his neck again.

(Y/n) chuckled incredulously. “She wants to kill you? So you’re basically enemies.”

Art nodded excitedly and pointed at her.

“That’s even more reason to just kill her and get it over with, that doesn’t make sense.”

(Y/n) stood and began to re-dress as Art watched with a thoughtful expression. When she turned to face him again he slid a finger across his neck for a third time, pointing firmly at the ground to say today.

“And I’m going with you, yeah?” She replied as a statement more than a question. Art began to shake his head and she crossed her arms, holding back a wince as she forgot about the cut. “I’m going with you.” She reaffirmed sternly and his shoulders slumped in defeat, looking off to the side with a glare.

Art looked back at her with a sarcastic smile, giving her two ok symbols before his smile fell and he rolled his eyes.

(Y/n) sighed and her expression softened, making her way over to him and guiding him to stand and turn around.

“We’ll be okay.” She reassured him softly as she zipped up his suit, letting him turn to face her again. “We always are, in the end.” She kissed the tip of his nose and he nodded giddily, his smile returning genuinely.

Later that evening, after the sun had just set, Art urged them to leave and get into the van - and still wouldn’t disclose where he got it from. She sat in the passenger seat and buckled, Art hopping into the driver’s seat and turning the ignition as the van revved itself to life.

“When did you learn to drive?” (Y/n) asked jokingly. Art shrugged sheepishly, then eyed the spot she sat in with an odd expression. “What?” He shook his head and waved her off with uncertainty, shifting the van into drive and speeding off to who-knew-where.

(Y/n) fidgeted with her camera when they pulled into a nicer neighborhood, rain pattering against the windshield as it stormed. He parked in front of a house at the end of a roundabout, pointing to it with an eager smile.

“Is this her house?”

Art shook his head, taping his index fingers together.

“Her friend?”

Art nodded and wiggled his eyebrows, (Y/n) sighing before the two of them got out and ran around to the back of the house. She gasped when he suddenly grabbed a brick and smashed in the sliding glass door, quickly collecting herself and following him inside to get out of the rain.

“Not feeling really subtle tonight, I see.” (Y/n) spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb the silence settled in the house.

Art meandered into the kitchen, waving a hand in dismissal of her comment as she trailed behind him.

“It’s too bad, this house seems so nicely decorated.” She annotated as she looked around, facing Art when he grabbed a random glass from the counter and turned on the faucet to fill it with water.

She chuckled at his antics, turning into a giggle when he faced away from the sink to chug the water as if he hadn’t had any in days. (Y/n) then looked across the countertop, stepping closer when she spotted a pair of scissors and a knife.

She hummed in approval. “Found your favorite.” Art set down the glass once it was empty and spun to face her, spotting the two items and rubbing his hands together in excitement, making his way over to them.

(Y/n) suddenly heard a floorboard creak and looked around, seeing one of the brunettes from the other night watching them in pure terror. She casually lifted her camera and snapped a picture, Art giving a test snip of the scissors before looking to see what caught her attention.

He stood up straight with a playful smile when he spotted his victim, raising the tools in his hands and snipping the scissors tauntingly at her. The girl screamed and ran off, Art following after her immediately in the opposite direction.

“Have fun!” (Y/n) called after him, chuckling to herself when she heard them thump up the stairs.

She looked around a little while longer, appreciating the owner’s sense of interior design for a moment before sitting down on the living room couch. She turned on the TV, drowning out the sounds from upstairs as she flipped through the different channels.

She perked up when she saw an image on the news of Art leaving what seemed to be a costume shop during the day, suit freshly bloodied with his signature bag slung over his shoulder.

“Huh.” She reacted simply, then turned around when she heard footsteps from the stairs. Art walked out, coated in much more blood than before and she quirked an eyebrow. “Done already?” She asked with a hint of surprise.

Art shook his head, (Y/n) watching as he rummaged through the cabinets and cupboards in the kitchen. He pulled out a white gallon jug of a chemical she couldn’t quite read from where she sat, then a container of salt and giddily trotted back upstairs.

She simply shrugged and turned back to the TV, disappointment painting her face when the news anchor moved on to a different story.

Some time later, she jumped when she heard the shuffle of keys outside of the front door and switched off the TV, getting up to hide behind the wall of the staircase.

“Allie!” A woman called as the door opened and closed, presumably the girl’s mother. “Have you been handing out candy? That bowl is still filled to the brim.” She continued.

(Y/n) stood frozen, peeking around just enough to see the woman hanging up her purse on a rack by the door. She quickly hid back when the mother began to head up stairs, holding her breath when her steps suddenly stopped.

She dared to peer around once more, seeing her looking in the other direction where the glass door had been broken in. “Oh my god.” She gasped worriedly. “Allie?” The woman began to back away towards the stairs once more. “Allie!”

As her voice grew distant, (Y/n) finally let out a breath and rolled her eyes at the disturbance. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, waiting expectedly. After a minute or so, a scream echoed through the house and she nodded her head. “There it is.” (Y/n) mused, then kicked herself off of the wall and made her way back to the couch to resume watching the television.

When she heard Art descend the stairs a second time, he brought down the mother’s head with him and showed it to her with a proud flourish. (Y/n) walked up to him and examined it, noticing the top had been carved out into a makeshift bowl.

She looked up at him and shook her head with a smile, walking over to the candy bowl sat by the front door with Art in tow. “Don’t expect me to help with the kids.” She warned him as she took a few handfuls of candy and transferred them into the head. Art simply grinned at her and nodded his head.

Just then, the doorbell rang and (Y/n) shrugged, stepping around the clown to open the door for him. She hid behind the door, hearing the kids’ reactions of whoa’s and cool’s at Art’s ‘costume’ and candy bowl. “Ew,” She heard a little girl complain. “Why is mine so sticky?” (Y/n) rolled her eyes.

“Don’t worry, it’s just fake blood, just put it in the bag.” The mom told the little girl and (Y/n) silently gave compliments to her for her patience. The kids giggled before they turned and left, granting a Happy Halloween before Art came back inside and closed the door.

“You get your fix?” (Y/n) asked him as he tossed the head to the side, candy scattering over the floor.

He shrugged in agreement, then clapped his hands together and pointed at the door for them to leave.

“Exactly how many people are you getting involved with tonight for this?” (Y/n) broke the silence as he drove, the rain slowly coming to a stop.

Art held up four fingers and she hummed.

“That’s a surprisingly small number for you. But I guess dragging out each victim will do that.” Art nodded joyfully, the van slowing down as they reached a new neighborhood.

They pulled in front of another house and parked, (Y/n) making a move to follow him when he told her to wait. She pouted and he reached out to her, gently patting her on the head before he got out of the van. She watched as he wandered up to the house until his figure disappeared inside.

(Y/n) jumped when the van suddenly shifted into drive and began to move seemingly on its own, unable to move as she just sat frozen and baffled.

She then looked over to the driver’s side and saw what looked like a little girl with strikingly pale skin. She was dressed similarly to Art himself, makeup and all. Though it resembled more of a poorly put together cosplay of him. Her teeth were just as rotten, but her eyes glowed a bright yellow and red when she looked over at (Y/n) with an eerie smile and waved.

Hesitantly, the woman returned her wave and spoke. “Are you a friend of Art’s?” She asked with a slight tremble in her voice. The little girl nodded, focusing back on the road as she cheerfully drove. “How long have you known each other?” (Y/n) asked, deciding to simply embrace what was happening and strike a conversation.

The little girl held up a finger.

“Days?” The girl shook her head. “Weeks? Months?” More shaking. “A year?” A nod. “You’ve been with him this whole time?” The girl smiled giddily, tilting her head side to side. “I’m assuming you know who I am then?” She nodded again and held up a half-heart with her fingers.

Her face then twisted into focus, the van slowing to a stop. (Y/n) followed her line of sight, spotting a teenage boy hunched over and panting.

The girl suddenly honked the horn and (Y/n) jumped in surprise. “Can he see us?” She asked as the boy whipped around to look at the van in both fear and confusion.

The girl pointed at herself and shook her head, then pointed at (Y/n) and nodded. They watched as a group of kids ran past him and he stumbled, then turned to look back at them and slowly made his way towards the van.

“Is he serious?” The little girl clapped excitedly and nodded. The boy stopped a few feet away from the van, the radio turning on and glitching through different stations as he stared at (Y/n) with his eyebrows furrowed. He looked away at the group of kids that passed him when the girl honked the horn again to recapture his attention.

His eyes widened when the girl revealed herself to him, staring at him with a blank expression and wide eyes before he bolted.

When he left, the girl giggled silently and looked over at (Y/n) for validation. The woman genuinely joined her, the boy’s reaction amusing.

The van began to move again, following the boy as he ran into the house that Art had gone into and parked in front of it once more.

The girl turned to face (Y/n), the latter doing the same and paused when the girl poked her knee playfully. Then twice again. Not understanding, the girl motioned to her own knees, then looked back up at the woman expectedly.

Slowly, (Y/n) reached out and poked her knee just the same as the girl did and the girl giggled happily before reaching out and poking her knee again, now three times. (Y/n) followed.

She went along with the girl’s little games in boredom as they waited, then screams sounded from the house and they looked at each other in understanding.

Art suddenly emerged from the front door, dragging the boy from earlier by his arm, his body unmoving. The clown popped open the doors at the back of the van and slid the body inside, closing them as he walked around to the driver’s side door.

(Y/n) gasped and froze when the girl crawled over into her lap, plopping herself happily to sit on top of her and kicked her legs. Art opened the door, face showing surprise at first, then laughed when he saw (Y/n)’s shocked expression.

He hopped in the van and shut the door, throwing the van into drive and speeding off.

After a few minutes of driving, Art pulled out a phone from beneath his legs on the seat and handed it over to the little girl. (Y/n) watched as she unlocked it and filtered through its contacts, clicking on Sienna and dialing.

“Hello?” A female voice answered on the other end of the line.

“Sienna, I’m in trouble!” The girl mimicked the boy’s voice and (Y/n)’s eyes widened, looking over at Art as he laughed while watching the road in front of them.

“Oh, you think? Mommy told me what you did to her car, you little asshole. I mean, really?”

(Y/n) looked over at Art and pointed at him in question and he nodded proudly. “No, you have to come get me.” The little girl continued.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“I’m at the old carnival. Eric and Sean left me here. I’m all alone!” The girl’s head tilted eerily with a creak.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Please, I’m really scared! I don’t know what else to do, I can’t call Mommy!”

“Okay, um - alright, calm down. I’ll come get you. Okay?”

“Hurry, my phone is dying!”

“Alright, just wait by the main entrance, okay?”

The girl hung up and the three of them looked amongst each other with a shared glint in their eyes.

As they rolled into the carnival’s parking lot, they all hopped out and Art grabbed the boy’s body from the back, throwing him over his shoulder. (Y/n) turned to look for the little girl, but found nothing and looked back at Art with a confused expression.

Art simply shrugged and began to make his way inside, (Y/n) following like a lost puppy.

“So when were you going to tell me about the girl?” She questioned him as they entered the Terrifier, trusting that Art knew where he was going through the maze of demonic props and animatronics.

He pointed between the two of them, then made a short this high motion to represent the little girl and waved his hand in dismissal.

“Is she always there?” Art shook his head, then pointed at her and made a sleeping motion. “Only when I’m asleep?” He nodded. “Well, that’s sweet of her, at least, to give us our time.”

Art shrugged as they entered a room that looked similar to their workroom at their own hideout, spotting a bench that was equally as messy with tools splayed out. His bag sat next to it, a small and broken in box TV in the center of the room not far from his bench.

Art turned to face her and aggressively pointed to the floor, telling her to stay put with a stern expression. (Y/n)’s lips parted in confusion.

“Why?” She pleaded, stepping closer to him as he adjusted the body over his shoulder and cocked his head at her, letting her know not to argue. She let out a shaky breath. “Will you be long…?” (Y/n) asked as she picked at her nails, worry decorating her face.

Art shrugged, not knowing how long it would take and she bit her lip. She took a deep breath and walked up to him, lifting herself on her toes to bring their lips together in a passionate kiss.

“Just come back to me.” She whispered, meeting his intense gaze.

Art gave her a firm nod and slowly turned to make his way out of the room.

“Art?”

The clown paused, head turning to acknowledge her.

“Give them hell.”

His mouth spread wide open with a large, toothy grin, then stalked out of the room to carry out whatever it was he had planned.

As she sat alone in Art's alternate workroom, the sounds of chaos and violence echoed through the walls. Her heart raced with every scream, every cry for help that pierced the air. She had learned to trust Art, but something felt different about that night as each passing moment felt heavier than the last.

She tried to calm herself, reminding herself that Art was a master of his craft, a performer who knew how to handle himself in any situation. But the fear crept in, consuming her with every passing second. What if something went wrong? What if he needed her and she wasn’t there?

Impossible.

(Y/n) paced the small room, hands trembling with anxiety. She longed to be by Art's side, to support him, to protect him. But there she was, helpless, waiting for him to come back to her.

Minutes turned into hours - or so it felt. Time seemed to stretch and warp, playing tricks on her mind. The cries of help, yelling and screaming had died for quite some time.

She tried to come up with reasons for his delay that made sense. Covering his tracks? Cleaning up?

Never. Not with Art.

She chewed at the inside of her cheek, thoughts spiraling into a dark abyss of worry and doubt. She had never felt so alone, so vulnerable.

After what she deemed to be too long of a silence, she gave in to her instincts and left the room. She wound through the maze, left and right and left and right, at first attempting to follow trails of blood and all leading to nowhere except another cheap attraction.

(Y/n) then found herself in a rather messy and empty-looking room. Trash seemed to litter every square inch, boards scattered among the dust and grime.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a familiar comically large shoe, turning her head slowly to find the source.

She gasped sharply, then cried out a painful scream at what lay before her.

She stumbled over to the decapitated body of her clown, falling next to it on her knees and frantically touching him.

“No, no, no - my love!” (Y/n) sobbed and continued to scream as tears streamed down her cheeks, refusing to accept that what was in front of her was real.

She leaned down to rest on top of his body, arms wrapping around him as if he were still alive. Her body shook violently as she lay there with him when something glimmered next to her.

A sparkle of silver shone from the bottom of his pant leg and she reached over to raise the fabric, seeing a hunter’s knife strapped to his calf.

(Y/n) simply breathed for a few moments, staring at the weapon. Her hand then grasped onto the handle and slid it out, squeezing it as she sat on her knees, hovering over his body.

She looked up at the ceiling, heartbroken and desperate.

“We’ll be okay.” Her voice echoed in her head.

Her other hand also came up to hold onto the handle, arms raising up, outstretched with the blade facing her torso.

“We always are, in the end.”

She plunged it into herself with a hoarse scream.

Blood seeped through her shirt, pouring down onto the body below her as she slid the blade out of herself. The knife clattered onto the floor as she dropped it, hands shaking as she slowly sunk down onto the stained floor to lay next to Art’s body.

(Y/n) snaked her arms around him, lightly pressing herself against him as her blood soaked into his suit from behind.

Her breath trembled, growing more and more shallow as time seemed to drag and her eyes grew heavier.

She gave in, eyelids drooping to close as everything went black.

“Just leave her.” A raspy and distorted female voice spit. “If you’re so determined, then do it yourself. I’m not wasting my time with this shit.”

The sound of retreating footsteps gradually disappeared, leaving a dark and disturbing presence to loom over the body that lay in the center of the dusty attic.

The figure crouched down beside them, gloved hand reaching out to caress their cheek. The same hand trailed down to their torso, palm covering the fatal gash that sat over where their heart was. The figure’s eyes closed for a moment, feeling as if a force was pulling at them, weakening their already vulnerable state as they grit their teeth.

Then it disappeared.

The figure’s eyes opened and took away their hand, watching as the face below him paled, yet somehow seemed to glow with a newfound ethereal beauty.

Suddenly, the body’s chest rose as it took in a breath, eyes fluttering open as it exhaled. Their eyes wandered for a moment, adjusting to the environment around them, then slowly met the now stark-white irises of the familiar face above them.

“Art?” Her delicate voice called to him.

Tag list: @hoe-for-daddywise @callsignwidow