Kisses From Death | Book 1

F I F T E E N

F I F T E E N
Spotlight Fear

ALL MY LIFE, I had prided myself on minimal fear standards. Being one of the members of the elite squad back in high school had practically forced me to shove all of my fears away. Leaders had to be strong, confident and in every sense of the word, perfect. And that was what I was groomed to be since the very beginning of my career.

Nothing short of absolute perfection.

However, there will always be one deep dark fear everyone tries to hide no matter what they're told. Some might fear the dark or whatever dwells within it while some might fear death. Some might have the philosophical fear of fearing fear itself. But not me. I was afraid of something more real, something that could really attack me if they were given the chance to do so.

There was nothing in the world I was scared of more than clowns.

Don't get me wrong. I love a good cutesy clown that carried balloons and had normal human eyes. Everyone loves those type of harmless clowns. Ones that only wished to spread joy and laughter to children around the world with their silly clumsy antics and amazing balloon-shaping skills.

Those clowns in my mind are the killer clowns, ones that would make even the bravest of souls whimper in fright. The large pointy teeth, absurd makeup that ran like blood, and smiles so wide that weren't even physically possible. Its face would be painted a ghastly white, the color of a sheet of paper and their eyes would be exaggerated into a large mocking expression.

I feared clowns that existed in movies more so than in reality. And where clowns could be found, I also feared the place a little more than I should.

And in this case, Death played my fear all too well.

The night was alive with loud buzzing carnival music, mascot adults walking around with mascot children in their hands. There were balloons everywhere, and there was no one other than me that was dressed in normal everyday clothing. This entire world was so obviously fabricated by the imagination of Death and his wizardry abilities, and yet this fact did absolutely nothing to soothe my nerves. In fact, it only ever increased my anxiousness.

Every once in a while, I would see a yellow-suited clown walking along the streets. Their hands were holding onto that of little clown children's, helium balloons streaming after them as laughter echoed into the night. Their little rainbow colored hair cones stuck out from their heads, resembling that of a scene straight out of a purgatory nightmare.

"Citizens of Hell." A loud voice echoed through the speakerphone system with a crackle of electricity, overriding the music as members of the crowd turned around to face the main stage a few feet away. Silence filled the place, the laughter died down as everyone awaited the next line from the voice that had just spoken.

While they waited with anticipation, I was awaiting it with pure dumbstruck horror. Sadly, I knew that voice all too well.

The stage was decked in glittering Broadway lights, red sparkly bling curtains that caught every single ray of light from the spotlight let down as the speaker stood smack in front of it. He was dressed in a smart black tuxedo with a red bow tie, and yet in his hands was a clown hand-held mask placed to cover his features.