The last laugh
A thunderous applause filled the tent as the acrobats bowed and took their leave.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, a performance to make you cry from laughter. Give a warm welcome to our lively clowns,” announced the ever-charismatic ringmaster. The lights suddenly flashed in bright colors and an assortment of peculiar characters emerged from the darkness beyond the curtains, jumping around, telling jokes and juggling all sorts of objects.
However, a certain clown slightly stood out among his peers, he was dressed in a jester outfit, with horizontal black and purple stripes and had big yellow shoes. His face and hands were painted purple, matching his clothes, he demonstrated an unorthodox sense of humor, telling jokes that would seem dark in nature if it wasn’t for his radiant disposition, as he hopped around juggling his batons in the air with impressive dexterity.
“Another successful show everyone, get some rest now, we have a long rode ahead till the next town.” The ringmaster was about to start helping pack everything up a voice from behind suddenly surprised him.
“Greetings, I’ll get straight to the point, I’d like to purchase the short purple clown, he’d make for a great entertainment for my parties.”
The ringmaster immediately recognized the man as the lord of the region,“B-but your grace, I can’t simply sell one of my performers like that…”
“Hmmm? Would you rather I tell the people that you use your show to distract the peasants as you rob them blind?” the ringmaster stumbled on his words and struggled to come up with an answer.
“Very well, so be it…”exclaimed the ringmaster with a defeated expression.
And so, the small jester was separated from the only life he had known, forced to perform at the noble’s mansion where he performed increasingly dangerous performances. During the day he would tell jokes, juggle blades and was physically abused for the entertainment of the lord and his affluent guests. During the night he was used as a lab rat for the resident alchemists employed by the noble, under the pretense of healing his wounds for the next show. After several months of this, a familiar face showed itself between the bars of the cell the little jester slept, a hand reached him a key while the other handed him a blade. There was no need to exchange words, they both knew what was about to transpire.
A loud noise broke the silence of the night, the noble startled, slowly got out of bed grabbing the candle before opening the door of his room.
“Who goes there?” he asked. Thinking a guard might have broken a vase on the corridor while on his night patrol he called out once again but obtained no response.
Getting increasingly agitated, he started to wander the mansion looking for someone that could tell him what happened so that he could calm himself. As he made his way to the guard’s quarters, he couldn’t get rid of this eerie feeling that something wasn’t right… Spotting a shadow standing in the middle of the hallway he’s filled with relief.
“Finally I find someone, what have you incompetent imbe…” as his steps closer, his words are cut short when his breath is taken away, the light of the candle reveals a grotesque form, instead of eyes, the nobles gaze is met only with empty sockets, the man couldn’t possible respond to his masters call for he had no ears, blood poured out of every orifice on his face. Upon becoming aware of the mans presence, the creature opened its mouth only to let out a guttural cry followed by a torrent of blood spilled on the floor, it suddenly started advancing towards the noble who had finally managed to break out of his initial shock and started to scampering screaming,
“S-stay away m-monster!!! Help, somebody help!!!!!!” his screams echoed throughout the mansion as he ran for his life. The screams only brought the attention of similar beings, who started dragging themselves towards the terrified man, meeting him at every turn. Managing to reach the dining hall he quickly locked the door behind him and barricaded it the nearest piece of furniture he could grab.
As he sat on the floor to catch his breath and the creatures on the other side tried to claw their way inside, a bone chilling cackle turned his attention to what was in front of him. A shadowy form stoop atop the long dinner table.
“D-Demon, are y-you the one r-res-ponsible for t-this?” As he uttered these words, something sharp cut through the curtains of the room, bathing in the moonlight and revealing the horrific spectacle before him, the walls were decorated with ears nailed onto them, fresh blood still dripping from them, from the ceiling eyes hanging by small threads as if floating in the air, in the table sat tongues served in dinner plates, carefully arranged as if a nauseating feast was about to take place.
In the middle of this horrifying imagery, the small entity slowly made his way to the noble, the purple paint seemed to have been meld into his skin, his smile revealed yellow sharp teeth, in his hand the blade of his scythe glowed silver and looked like the claw of a ferocious beast.
He spoke as he approached the frightened man, “Now, that everyone is watching, everyone is listening, and everyone is silent, this is the perfect moment for a joke, don’t you think?” said the jester grinning as he jumped from the table and landing right in front of his victim. “Have you ever heard the one about the jester that was mistreated?” he said with a fiery gleam on his eyes.
“N-n-no” the noble meekly replied.
“The punchline… is always a real killer!!!”
The noble's scream was snuffed out just as it left his mouth, leaving only the deranged laughs of his murderer echoing into the night.
