Scary Clown Numbers Novels & Stories

“Is that so?” Harvey laughed again, and tapped on the table lightly. Following his movements, a die soundlessly turned into dust. And then, the second one… Then, the third… The crowd was dumbfounded. Sakura’s face was frozen solid. At this, the crowd burst into excited murmurs. “Four…” “Five…” “Six…” “Fifteen total! Big!” The guests were all shocked. Those who had ridiculed Harvey before froze, feeling as though they were suddenly slapped in the face.

My boyfriend said he had been connected to a system that let him see how much other people needed him. The first thing he did was ask me with tears in his eyes, "Your number is only 30. Don't you love me?" I told him, "Just because I don't depend on you doesn't mean I don't love you." After that, whenever it rained, he would hold an umbrella over his secretary and even drive out of his way to take her home. When I asked him about it, he would say, "Don't overthink it. Her number is high, so I know she needs my help." One day, I was sick and stuck in bed, but he chose to go shopping with his secretary. "Your number is low, but she's in more urgent need of me. I'll go shopping with her first,

“Too sad we will never fight.” “If this creepy guy,” I swallow, “isn't scary to you, just how scary are you?” “We're all scary baby girl. I'm just crazy. Men hate crazy,” he blows out a perfect ring. Achilles unlocked the big chains holding the man, the sound of the key echoing. As he raised his head up, the clown raises his fist, sending the first punch. This fight had started. Achilles spat out blood. “You hit good,” he says, a glean taking over his features.

Until finally, he saw a news story about a killer clown terror on one of the flyover roads over the river in the Canadian area. Many victims have been killed and their goods stolen by the clown. According to the news, the clown always acts at around ten in the evening. Until now, it is not known who is behind the killer clown costume. The police have also been searching since a month ago, but the clown has still not been caught and found. However, the killer clown can still carry out his evil actions every night smoothly. After reading the news, Alex suddenly had an idea. An idea that immediately made him smile happily and made him feel calm now.

“I don’t get it. Are we still all here or are there people who came out already?” “Yes, we are a total of twenty-five persons, fourteen are out already.” “What? That many? Where are we even?” I was dumbfounded with the idea of the silly kid game that they turned into a gruesome one. “Number eleven, number eleven please proceed the exit. Number eleven, number eleven please proceed the exit.” A booming voice blasted from the intercom. “I repeat, number eleven, number eleven please proceed the exit. I repeat, number eleven, number eleven please proceed to the exit.”

The carnival smelled like sugar and popcorn and damp hay. At the haunted house entrance, someone hands me a red balloon and tells me to follow the path. Somewhere, I turned wrong. My brothers vanished. Three clowns appeared. Not funny clowns. Not circus clowns. These were fuck-ass ugly, nightmare clowns — too tall, teeth too sharp, voices wrong. Bloody knives glinted under flickering lights as they closed in. Run. I told my feet. But they were stuck. I watched them getting closer and closer. I could already feel their teeth sinking into my flesh.

What the fuck? “What the fuck are you doing?!” a deep, funny-sounding voice yells at me, causing my ears to ring. I groan as I open my eyes and see a brightly colored clown in front of me. A sexy clown. As my eyes meet the deep brown ones of this sexy clown, a weird pressure radiates from inside my head. It feels like someone is trying to talk to me from the other side of a brick wall. It hurts. I shake my head trying to make it stop.

I scanned the misty surroundings cautiously while all my bones ached from the fall and my heart thudded violently. Everything looked normal… sort of. The rides, games, and performers were there. Laughter echoed from afar, but beneath those laughs there was something off. An old, slanted sign above the large entrance read: Carnival of Souls. I stumbled up, limping on one leg. “Hey, do you want cotton candy?” a voice behind me asked nicely. When I turned around, I saw a clown that looked almost cute. He smiled at me, offering the candy.

Outside the tent in a conversation between the worm man and one of the dwarf clowns, named Tino. "Poor boy, he has suffered so much," said the worm man. "This is so, and unfortunately, he will suffer more, when in some days, he has to appear in his own village as the freak who returned from death."

Clair shrieked exactly once, then denied it immediately. “That was not fear,” she said, clutching my arm. “No?” “That was outrage.” “Sure.” She hit my shoulder. “Shut up.” The path split and narrowed in odd places, forcing groups to separate and rejoin around fake coffins, crooked mirrors, and rooms pulsing with red light. The attraction wasn’t good, exactly, but it had that chaotic carnival quality where bad design and too much noise occasionally lined up into something effective. At one bend, we nearly walked straight into a hanging body prop, and Clair actually ducked into my side with a startled laugh.