Alaire and Cole stood guard outside of one of the roller coasters. They hid underneath the tracks keeping out of sight, but they wanted to test a theory. They watched the clown clocks closely, counting down the seconds until “the next showtime.”
Their theory was “showtime” meant the clowns came out to play.
“If we’re right about this, all we have to do is plan on escaping around their schedule,” Cole said.
“Too bad they have so many showings…” Alaire noted.
The clock rang again, sounding off the recording of children’s laughter. Alaire tensed instantly and kept her eyes peeled for the monsters. It didn't take long to find one of them skulking around. Without Alaire, Cole, and the others running about the clowns appeared restless and zombie-like.
“They seem bored… It’s crazy how they go berserk soon as they see one of us,” Cole said.
Alaire nodded. Her kingdom for a gun right now, she sighed.
“Hey, we’re gonna make it,” Cole nudged her shoulder.
“Sure,” Alaire tried to smile. It was hard to think optimistically after witnessing someone stabbed to death.
“Don’t give up on me just yet,” Cole persisted, “We’re both getting the hell out of here.”
“Hey so…”
“What?”
“I’m really sorry I’ve been a bad sister lately,” Alaire said. It was a random thought, but life and death made you think crazy things.
Cole paused and then said, “Well, it’s not like I’ve been the best brother either. I got carried away doing my own thing.”
“It wasn't all bad, we were pretty close as kiddos,” she said. “I think high school changes everyone. And college, well, that's a whole other world.”
“Well, let’s try to hang out more,” Cole said, “I kind of forgot how cool you were. I’m sorry it took being chased by murderous clown-freaks to remember.”
Alaire laughed silently. Unfortunate indeed.
“I wonder what happened to the other two,” Alaire changed the subject, “I really hope… I mean… That they didn't end up like Jessica.”
“If we find them, we’ll help, but at this point, I think we’ll be more helpful helping ourselves first. We need the cops, people with guns, not us who are naked as far as weapons go.”
Alaire hated to admit it, but he was right. More than anything, saving everyone was her ideal objective, but at the moment she felt pretty useless. There had to be something more they could do.
“The clocks!” Alaire said.
“Hm?”
What if we destroyed the clocks?” It sounded even weirder when she said, but maybe that’s what they had to do, think outside the box.
“Honestly, it might be crazy enough to work. I’m just not sure how many there are all around the park.”
“We can check,” Alaire said, “The park map might show us.”
“It’s worth a try,” Cole slowly removed himself from their hiding spot, “Think enough time has passed?”
“Seems like it.”
They stayed cautious but maneuvered out of the roller coaster area. Cole stopped to look around.
“See something?” Alaire asked.
“I’m just thinking we are going to need something to smash the clocks with.”
“Gah!” Alaire smacked her forehead, “Why didn't we think of checking a supply closet?”
“They have those here?”
“Well, how do they sweep up popcorn from the sidewalks? There’s gotta be an office somewhere with storage and tons of stuff. As long as we find something other than Windex…”
“Let’s find it right away.”
Cole and Alaire located the park map again. It was hard to decide which of the blank buildings could be an office, but they narrowed it down to one or two that were next to each other.
Alaire made sure the check how much time they had on the clown clocks, and made mental note of where they were located. So far, they passed three clocks on their hunt for the office.
“Let’s try this one first,” Cole said.
They were in the fairy-tale section of the theme park, so the buildings were disguised as part of the grand castle with the SwanLake-themed moat. It used to have actual swans swimming in it with a swan shaped boat as a ride, but now the water was mostly drained and a grayish green color.
Luckily, the door was unlocked. Alaire ignored the logic of it all.
“Wow, they really go all out,” she said.
The interior of the hidden office was decorated to resemble the renascence fair; fake suits of armor guarding the halls and thick stone walls.
“Heck I’ll take this,” Cole grabbed one of the suits of armor's swords. It was fake of course but strangely comforting.
Alaire approached the first door in the hallway. It creaked open and revealed a dark room and a soft grumbling sound.
She gasped and covered her mouth to stop herself from making another sound.
Inside the room had to be five clowns, sound asleep. Alaire shut the door as quietly as she could even though her arms were shaking.
“Cole,” Alaire mouthed.
She pointed at the door and made stabbing gestures. Somehow he understood.
“Let’s shut it up.”
Cole instantly started to push the armored statues against the door. If they could lock up the clowns, their escape mission could be quicker than they thought! Alaire tried pushing another statue but wasn't as strong as Cole, so she piled up some chairs she found instead. Cole couldn't help grinning, making Alaire feel more confident about their survival.
“Let’s go!” Cole said after looking at their barrier with satisfaction. He kept the fake sword and handed Alaire the fake spear held by the other statue.
“Just in case,” he shrugged.
They left the fairytale world feeling ecstatic. They were going to make it, Alaire smiled, they were really going to make it! And they even got some epic looking toys.
On the way back, Alaire stopped at one of the clown clocks and aimed her spear at it. The spear was fake, but wasn’t plastic, and still hard enough to break through the glass. After stabbing up at it several times, she nodded.
“Just in case,” she shrugged, teasing Cole. He chuckled in approval.
They decided to smash up any clocks they passed on the way to the entrance. They’d only been here for a few hours but even so it was too much. It felt like years since she’d been back at her dorm, being a normal college student.
Her blissful thoughts were interrupted by some staggering people walking towards them. A man and a woman, both red with blood.
“It’s them!” Alaire pointed.
Blake and Taylor slowly approached them. Blake was helping Taylor walk, and as they got closer Alaire noticed why. Taylor had gashes all over her body, through her clothes, even on her face. Every step looked painful. Blake was bloody as well, but he didn't appear to be too harmed.
Cole hurried over to lift Taylor up from the other side. All of her gashes were still bleeding.
“What did they do to you?” Cole asked, “How did you escape?”
Blake was missing his joking persona. His eyes were serious and his tone was cold, “It was hell. We escaped because Taylor was a quick thinker.”
“We were tied up and going to be ripped to shreds, but Taylor got hold of some of the razor blades when… well, and cut me loose.”
They didn't seem to be in a talking mood. Alaire respected that, seeing their condition.
“Is that all her blood?” Cole grimaced, “We need to get her out of here fast.”
“No.”
Alaire went cold. The blood didn't belong to either of them? At the same time, who was she to judge when fighting for your life? She couldn't shake the eerie feeling, knowing that by the looks of it it was more of a brutal killing.
The alarm sounded. Cole and Alaire looked at each other knowingly. IF their plan worked then they should be fine, however, the must’ve missed a clock somewhere.
“Long story short we managed to stash the clowns in a room and locked them inside,” Cole said, “Just to be safe, we should probably camp out somewhere for the next twenty minutes until the timer is up.”
“She doesn't have that long,” Blake protested.
“We’ll manage.”
The four of them hid inside the Hall of Mirrors. The lights weren’t on so it was dark enough they could hide inside without being too obvious to onlookers. Blake set Taylor down and checked some of her larger gashes, mostly on her legs. One was bleeding out too quickly.
He started taking off his belt around his jeans.
“Is this really appropriate?” Taylor said dreamily.
She’d lost a lot of blood and her eyes were drooping.
“Don’t get too excited,” Blake said, “This is gonna hurt.”
He wrapped his belt around her thigh and pulled tightly, forming a temporary tourniquet.
“Ugh! I was starting to not dislike you, too.”
Blake smiled.
Cole was snaking his way through the mirror maze, crouching low to the ground, and scouting ahead. Alaire was still feeling pretty confident. She didn't know how many clowns were in the entire park, but they’d locked up quite a few.
“Did you say something?” Blake suddenly asked.
Alaire narrowed her eyes, “Uh, me? No…”
Blake listened carefully, checking every mirror and every reflection surrounding them.
“What did you hear?”
He put a finger to his lips. Alaire gripped her spear and tried to listen for any strange sounds.
“No one is outside,” Cole called to them, “I think we took care of the clowns.”
Alaire tried finding her brother’s reflection in the mirrors, following where he went. Standing ways away was Cole, smiling triumphantly.
But he wasn't alone.
“Cole!” Alaire yelled.
A long knife shot out from his chest from his back. A clown had crept up behind him, and perhaps had been inside this very maze sleeping, like the clowns sleeping in the fake castle were.
Blood sprayed across the mirrors, and Cole slowly started to slump to the ground. The clown violently pulled out the knife from Cole’s back and cackled.
“Cole!” Alaire threw herself against mirrors trying to make her way to him, but couldn't seem to get close enough, “Cole!”
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