The Ominous Clown Graveyard: Writing Event

[ysabeau]

Writing Journey

The Clown Graveyard of Madness

This is a creative Writing event. It is one of imaginative exploration and fantastical release. Unleash your creative desires and surrender your will to the darkness of the Carnivale. During this exercise you will be called to share a story from the depth of your soul. A story that rises from the deep and presents itself to you. There is only one criteria for entering this event and that is the story must be at least 500 words long. Aside from that, your imagination is your guide and you can write about anything that comes to your mind. This is a story that is shared with the darkness of the soul.



You find yourself walking, you are walking away from the Carnival, you have no idea where you are going and you have no idea what is calling you. The world around you is shifting. It is getting darker and it is getting more surreal and sinister. There is a low-lying fog that covers the ground. The shadows seem to swallow the sun and there is only a deep blue hue in the sky. You wonder if it is night but there is still a slight remnant of the brightness of the sun. You continue walking down the path. The myst is growing and there is a foreboding feeling in the air.

You approach the ends of a graveyard. It is vast and long. There are graves stretched out before you. They seem to be endless. You wonder if you have slipped into another world as the energy of this place is so different form that of the Carnival. It is sombre and sullen.

In the distance you see a figure up ahead and you heed the sound of metal hitting dirt. There is someone up ahead digging. Curiosity getting the better of you, you begin to inch forward. You are curious and want to see who is this figure and what are they doing. Are they trying to hid something, or are they digging something up? These are the question that you seek to answer.

You inch closer and you see him. Siioow the Jester of the Carnival. He is wearing a black and white clown outfit. His hands are dirty and his clothes a bit disheveled. He has been working hard to dig. You try to get close enough to see what is found in the hole and suddenly you hear his voice.

“I've been expecting you.”

You jump and look up, your eyes meet his, you are not sure whether to run away or stay. It is almost like he has hypnotized you with his eyes and you are frozen in place.

He grins looking at you. That mischievous, dire grin. You are frozen in place. He knows though why you are here, he knows why you have come.

“This…” he starts…

“This is where all clowns go to die!” He states boldly.

“This is a place of darkness, where the stories and comical chronicles of one's life.. stop…”

“All mortals die and it is such a shame, such a shame, for the knowledge and stories that they take with them. It is robbed from the world. It is robbed from them. Their experiences and their mark on the world..... Come, sit with me, we will revive the past and listen to a tale that once was forgotten to the world.”

His grin gets wider as a black orb manifests from him. It illuminates the area in pure darkness. You are still frozen in place watching and captivated by the display before you. The dark orb begins to pulse as light shoots from it. The light blasts into the ground as Siioow smirks. He knows what is going to happen for he has done this before.

Suddenly from the Earth, a hand emerges and your ears are graced with a mournful wail. Your eyes go wide as from the ground emerges a Zombie. A zombie of a dead clown. The sounds from his mouth are anguished and forlorn and he carries himself in a sombre way. Having been once the centre of joy and happiness, he has now been lost to the world and lost to time. Siioow though remembers him. He researches and remembers the great ones, the ones who still had stories to share and performances to reveal. He looks at you.

The story of the Clown is not always happy. They have anger, they have sadness, they just have the ability to always find the joy and the comedy in the situation. They make light of life so that others can laugh and feel the joy. It is a rewarding if heartbreaking job.

“Come sit…. “ he motions you… “Come sit and we will hear the story this one has to share. Let us hear his words and honour him one last time as he shares a story from his soul.”

You suddenly feel your limbs release. You have a choice right now… do you run back to the Carnivale, or do you sit with this demonic Clown to hear a tale from this reanimated Zombie…. The choice is yours…

What story was revealed to you. Write the story the Zombie clown has shared with you and paste it below!!

Participating in this Event will earn you a Ticket! There's only one entry per person.

[Lycana]

He was a broken clown with a broken porcelain mask. The crack runs up the eye and cuts through the cheekbone of the mask but the whole lower right section is gone revealing the skull that lurked behind the devilish smile of his painted lips. His hands briefly dance in the air as if sketching a scene, the tattered gloves revealing more bone than cloth, but his voice is a sigh of breath as he recounts his story.

I was a jester, a sad harlequin of shadows, traveling within the darkest reaches. Our carnival hosted the most grotesque monstrosities and things that spoke to the most forbidden corners of the mind. To dance with death and shiver while the clowns parade as mocking shadows of life’s hidden terrors and laments. We give them form and rendered them powerless by our charades but it the darkness of our carnival possessed a sinister heartbeat that drew frightful things into our midst even as we played to the wonder of children and adults alike.

Marvels upon marvels, the illusions of the clown in our disjointed dance and the exaggeration of our poise and countenance were played for the pleasure of all. How I loved the frightened laughter of the young as they delighted in the twisted nature of my guise. I am more than porcelain and paint and the mirthful jangle of bells, I am the joy of life in all of its beautiful grotesquery. The dark dance that is mine has been handed down and rehearsed throughout my line, every beauteous choregraphed step, each movement conveying a meaning and emotion beyond the smile of my painted mask. Ah, life has such fiendish delights and in the brightest light is the most tantalizing shadow. And I was that shadow, reminding them to hold close to the joy in their lives—the madness that made them dearly love their sanity.

But darkness has its dangers, for even a moth flying at home in the night can be too easily caught within its natural element. I danced my dance next to a pool of oblivion, giving reverence to the final descent into death and the final flush of life, when the water stirred with a restless spirit, and that which was contained rose from within its ichor depths, bled from the veins of the most ancient of gods in the birth of the cosmos. The sleeper rose, awakened by my charade, and gripped me in her tight embrace, her black lips descending like a lover’s kiss as the webbed wings of her myriad fins clung to me to hold me still as her sacrifice. Ah, such as how death rises and we are helpless against her pull, and she comes for us all.

As for me, this helpless clown, my lament was a song of the ages of life that come before me, my tribute to the world. And it is with this utter joy that I’m broken as she cracks my skull with her violent frenzy. Life and death are neither gentle nor kind but a sudden bursting forth. And so I am broken and cracked in my lover’s arms, and a moan of delight escapes me as she, with her lips upon mine and our bodies entwined, draws me with her into the depths she haunts amid my audience’s wild applause. And so I have passed and to my lover’s arms I must return now that my tale is done.”

With that he turns and ambles away in the dark murk and a trickle of water can be heard for just a moment before it too fades.

[Bluemoonrabbit]

I hear carnival music. I see a happy clown, a happy young man juggling. He's surrounded by children. But the image starts to tear apart. I see a sad clown, black and white with the skin of the risen dead. He can only sigh and moan sadly. He gently sways back and forth. "Talk! TALK!" I hear a man yelling. But the young man won't talk. They are interrogating him. Several large, rough looking men. I see the sad zombie clowns face again. He sighs, and shuffles his feet like he's a shy child. I see a hospital stretch with the young man, and now he's in the hospital. The zombie sighs again.

The zombie clown is sighing at a poster of the young man, his brother he says. "He's gone now. He didn't make it. He didn't come home. He was the best of us, the both of us. Now dead and gone." He sighs again, I see him touching the poster. I see another clown trying to replicate what the young man did, but it's not the same. The zombie clown can only watch from the tent flap before walking away. The ringmaster speaks in the distance. "Charlie." He calls to him. "Charlie, it's not the same. Day after day we try, but... We're never gonna recover. We can have all the talent in the world. It ain't gonna bring my brother back. It's never coming back. We need something new. Something exciting." He explains. Another clown suggests naked ladies to the amusement of the strongman.

"Charlie. It's over. We've got to try something new. Or we'll all go under. Just like that. Just like they did before Charlie." I hear the zombie sighing again. The image of the rig leader being agitated and snapping tears apart. He's hurting too. "We can't do anything else. We have to keep trying or we'll all end up in loony box." The ring leader tries to talk, he has a thick strange accent I can't identify. "Charlie. He was my brother too." And it fades out.

I'm seeing the clown again, but he seems happier. He slowly starts to return to the dirt. "Bye" he says, as he seems at peace now. I feel sad now, but a good pat on the head from Siiow helps a little bit. "All right off you go".

And I'm back. And still a bit sad.

[Astarosche]

Siioow has waited for me, he said some special clown story. Sit down and see, he said, you explore darker things, are you?

The clown climbed out of his grave, a horror clown, an evil clown with creepy make up.
He hold a baloon in his hand written on it: Be funny or die
He looked at me and asked obscene: Do you like candy?
He told with excited: I was the best horror clown, people scared
I always distributed these baloon with Be funny or die
But people were so boring and I killed all .
Do you like candy, he asked me again with lewd gesture
Disgusted I looked sideways to Siioow
He was amused
I asked the horror clown what happen
Police knew me because of all the splatter I left when people are boring instead of funny
But I am a genius and master mind
But suddenly last Performance took place,but police arrived with many cars and open the fire
They just not waited until I am finish, they shot me down and I died
He asked me again with lewd gesture: Do you like candy?
Oh I am maaad, insanity, I celebrate gore and blood and Horror.
I thought it is now right time to leave, I looked sideways to Siioow, he is amused, you made a good experience with Zombie Horror Clowns, he was laughing.