A bloody night to remember (Private; Jester)

In the streets of Clover, there was a sweet energy, thick with joy and laughter. It radiated through the streets like an invisible miasma, there was so much happiness, it was infectious. Most of it's citizens could be seen smiling or enjoying themselves. Having spent their day at the carnival was currently underway, their day had been a pleasant one. At least this applied to most folk, there was however one exception to the rule.

He had heard the word on the street, the carnival having come to town. Having hid himself in an alleyway, his body covered in sweat as he contemplated it's proximity. He could have left town, but he didn't. His feet had spent the last few hours glued to the spot, almost in a trancelike state, as he stared into the dark wall across from him.

Hurts, hurts, hurts. He thought, erratically, holding onto the sides of his face. His eyes wild with the glow of insanity. He couldn't contain it, he wanted to go, he wanted to kill. But the small rationale, that lingered was stopping him. Not for the guilt or fear, but because it meant pain even he couldn't handle. The pain of nostalgia.

Pain, pain, pain. He thought, bending his knees, so that he was crouched on the ground. Hands tugging roughly on his hair, causing it to spike up in all directions. He was there for several hours more, the endless train of thoughts attacking him. Then like a switch there was a sound, ripping him from the trance, laughter. Specifically, the laughter of a child. He hissed, his golden eyes darting out to the exit of the alleyway, he stared with a cold intensity. Not blinking for several moments, he waited, his face contorted in a snarl. Then he spotted her, riding the shoulders of her father. She must have been about ten, long black hair, and fair skin. And worst of all, happy. Practically glowing with the putrid aura of a family that had spent their day at that place.

Jester's face became blank, suddenly he appeared very calm. He stood slowly, creeping to the edge of the alleyway, he watched the Ravencrest family as they headed home. He had heard of the Lord and Lady through casually eavesdropping through town. Whispers, a noble folk wanted to retire to a peaceful town. The people here treated them as normal, but some knew. The corners were rumours were spoken in hush, the corners that reached the ears of even such a unstable clown. So this was them, such a happy and humble gang.

Slowly, a small smile crept onto Jester's lips as an idea came to mind. A wonderful, delicious, awful idea. Disappearing into the shadows of the alleyway, Jester took a look at the walls either side. They were close, close enough to scale. Jumping up, he kicked his legs out to each side, and began to make his way up the wall. Up and up, until he was able to use a gutter to climb onto the roof of the building. As he stood there, he watched the Ravencrest family in the distance, and using the cover on the rooftops, he began to follow Stalking. Keeping far enough back so as to avoid any 'magical' detection.

When the Ravencrest family arrived at their home, Jester had managed to hide himself behind a tree before the clearing opened up. Staring with cold eyes, he watched the family from the distance. There were still glowing with happiness, that was good, bad but good. Because they would have lowered their guard, and why wouldn't they. No one died on a die like this, that would be preposterous.

Jester approached the home, his feet light and practically silent as he made his approached. Kneeling down in front of the door, he checked the lock. He smirked, good folks, locking their door. Very good for them. Harder for him. but not that hard. Holding out his hand, there was a ripple and a card appeared. He glanced at it.

Three of hearts.

How cute. He thought, before taking the card, he slid it between the gap of the door and it's frame. It's sharp edge carving through the wood, he pulled on the door softly, and as the wood severed, it gave. Barely making a sound, he tucked the card behind his ear and slid inside. Pulling the door to behind him, he slid through the hallways, his soft light feet airy and soundless. Jester knew how to tread carefully, he had spent years learning back in that tent, walking on the thinnest of wires. He had learned, he had mastered. He came to a room, hearing voices, he peeked through the gap of the door. There they were, hugging their daughter goodnight.

That happy, little girl.
Lovely, happy little girl.
Lovely, happy, disgusting little girl.

Jester slid back behind the door as she left the room and headed off the bed, oblivious to his presence. Smirking, he moved away, there was another little ripple, and two wooden dolls appeared. One of a man and a one of a woman. The guy, Jack, carried a butchers knife, and the girl, Jill, carried a carving blade. Jester set them to work, the door was wide enough for them to walk through unnoticed. They began their approach, there steps making almost no noise. Moments later there was the sound of a swish and a scream could be heard, following by yelling. Jester shuddered in pleasure, reaching forward he gently nudged the door open. Revealing the most splendid site.

On the floor was Lord Ravencrest, a carving knife buried deep in his skull, his blood already pooling on the floor. Jill next to his body hopping from leg to leg in a little jig. Then a few metres away, lay a screaming Lady Ravencrest, trying to fight off the Jack as he swung the butchers knife at her. A deep gash already in her shoulder. Jester brought his hands up, hugging himself, biting his lip in a with a look of intense satisfaction.

Jester gleeful face widened when the daughter walked back into the room, he watched intensely as her face contorted in horror. Savoury the delicious moment with his golden irises, wanting to lock it in her heart forever. That horrifying moment where she witnessed the death of her mother, he wanted it's reflection in her eyes, as mesmerized as her in the moment. Only the mothers death didn't excite him nearly as much as the girls expression, that tortured face. He relished it, delicious he thought. he watched her coming to her senses. Turning and fleeing the home. Jester stared after her for a moment, making no immediate movements to follow her. His work wasn't done yet, his gaze slowly dragged back to the bodies on the floor. He smirked, the two dolls danced around them. Twirling around in each others arms as though celebrating at a festivals.  


There was a ripple and the dolls disappeared. Jester held out his palm, the ripple appeared once more, out of it two black rings appeared in his grasp. He turned his gaze to the bodies and threw both rings, one landed on the wife chest, and the other the husbands stomach. In the air the rings caught alight. Igniting the clothes, and slowly beginning the burn away at the victims before him. He turned, satisfied with his work. He followed the path in which the daughter had taking. Stepping outside into the cool evening air, his magic activated once more and a unicycle appeared next to him. He climbed on top of it, and began his decent down the hill. The hills descent and the magical properties of the unicycle, moving him speedily forward in the direction of the runaway girl. He soon caught up to her, as he spotted her running in terror. He couldn't help himself, he began to cackle manically. As she tumbled to a stop, he made his way over and began circling her on the unicycle.


He said in a sing song voice, cackling away as he biked circles round her.

Jester marvelled at the sight of the girls suffering, lapping in every delightful moment of it. Yes, Yes, this was much better. All those happy folk at the carnival, coming home to live their disgusting little happy lives. That had to stop, someone had to be punished. The poor girl had happened to walk by at the wrong time and as a result Jester had taken her life and ripped in apart. Taking away the one foundation of love she had to rely on and why shouldn't he. A dead father and a pitiful excuse for a mother. Parents were the falsest of being, showering a child with love purely because they had bore the responsibility of bringing it into the world. There was no love there, only obligation. If anything little Miss Sara Ravencrest should have been greatful to him, he had released her from the lie that was family.


"Free, Free, oh woe is thee. Such was found, now is lost, the gingerbread man came and took the cost." He continued in his non-sensical rant, spinning around her further. Letting out another laugh, he felt the bolt of magic flying towards him, small and delicate. He held out his hand. Catching it in his pain, the tiny bolt burning into his hand. He stopped circling his legs, glancing at his hand. He slowly opened his palm, revealing the ever so slightly seared flesh. He leaned in, smelling it, the hint of a magic combined with burning skin. He glanced over to where the girl had been, only to see her running through the trees. His face broke into an unnaturally wide smile, he began to chuckle, the laugh growing louder and louder. Unable to control himself any more. He spun his legs, instead of continuing after the girl, he biked away into town. Laughing in delight the whole way, oh he wouldn't kill the little girl. Not tonight, she had a whole lifetime of suffering ahead of her, he could not deprive her of that. It would've been wrong. The clown spun forward and soon disappeared into sight, mysteriously vanishing from town.


END