The first bullet zipped through the air and burst a few bulbs in the chandelier hanging above the dining table. The second and third shots buried themselves into a wall close to Crystal, who ducked out of the way.
Klaws gripped the writer’s T-shirt, and ripped him off the floor and into a bear hug. With the little energy he had left, David managed to raise the gun once again, but before he could fire, Klaws squeezed his arms tight around him.
David’s gun hand dropped, but not before a shot was fired – the slug punched into Klaws’ shoulder. He growled and dropped his prey.
“Such a naughty child!” he said, grabbing the writer by his head and crushing it like a grape. The force was so strong, it caused an eyeball to pop free and push David’s glasses off his face.
Knowing there was no hope for David, who bucked and thrashed in Klaws’ grip, Crystal turned and watched as Mr. Tickles launched himself through the bay window, taking the blinds and curtains out into the cold, rainy night with him. When he disappeared, Crystal heard him grunt as he hit the floor.
“Come on!” she heard him call. “Jump down!”
Looking back over her shoulder, she saw Norm dash out of the room with Angharad, avoid a swipe from Klaws, and move into the hallway. There’s nothing I can do for him, she realised.
Quickly scanning the floor, she noticed Nightshade’s body had vanished…
“Huh?!” she gasped, but didn’t have time to speculate.
She went to the window and was about to jump when Klaws grabbed her by her hair. She screamed as torrid pain tore through her scalp. Harry fell from her grasp and slid under the table after hitting the floor.
“You’ve been a bad, bad girl!” Klaws said, wrapping his hands around her throat. The dress she wore constricted her legs; she was unable to kick, knee or thrash.
“Lights out, bitch!”
“N…n…no!” Crystal choked out. “P…p…p…” she tried. Her arms flailed as she thrashed her body. When her right hand fell onto the table, she furiously searched for something – anything – that would get her out of danger. “Ha…Harry!”
Dark spots started to dance before her vision as her eyes rolled. This is it, she thought. I’m dead…
Then, as though some miracle had happened, Klaws’ grip fell away and she crashed to the floor.
She took in a handful of deep breaths, trying to clear her vision. “Harry, you saved me!” she said from the floor, unable to turn. Putting her hands to her throat, Crystal tried rubbing the pain away, but it wasn’t helping.
Regrouping, she got to her knees and saw that Harry was still under the table, unmoving and silent. She couldn’t understand – why had he not helped? And who had? Turning, she saw Sam being crushed in a bear hug by Klaws as he tried to squeeze the life out of her.
“Sis?!” she gasped. “You?”
“Don’t fucking stand there gawping at me – help!” she shouted, smashing a champagne bottle over Klaws’ head. His grip on her broke, giving Crystal the chance to grab a chair and bash it over his back.
It didn’t seem to have an effect on him, as he turned on Crystal and grabbed her by the throat.
“Ugh!” she gulped as he squeezed.
Before he could get a good hold, Sam plunged a shard of broken bottle into the side of his neck. He instantly let go of Crystal, who fell to the floor and grabbed Harry. With him snug in the crux of her left arm, she felt safe.
“Isn’t that fat sack o’shit dead yet?!” Harry said.
“You could have helped me, Harry!”
“I was knocked out – it would have been a bit difficult. Anyway, I’m here now!” he said, then unleashed a fury of throwing stars into Klaws’ back.
The big man growled as he staggered forward. Sam had to jump out of his way as he crashed into the wall behind her.
“He’s finished!” Mr. Tickles said.
Crystal turned to see the clown standing in the room once again. He held in his hand a set of gardening shears. He opened and closed them repeatedly and rapidly as he spoke. “Come and fucking get yours, brother!”
He charged Klaws with the blades poking outwards. But before he could ram the steel home, the disturbed Father Christmas avoided his brother’s attack and the gardening implement rammed into the wall.
“Let’s go!” Crystal told Sam, picking a knife up off the table. Both women moved to the window as Klaws and Tickles engaged in a fight.
As Mr. Tickles tried to pull the shears from the wall, Klaws grabbed him by the front of his clown suit, pulled him in, and then head-butted him four times before pushing him backwards.
In his dazed state, Mr. Tickles collapsed to the floor, his nose broken. Blood pissed out of his nostrils, but he ignored it and tried to get back on his feet.
Moving in, Klaws kicked Tickles in his ribs, then punched him in the face. “I’m going to kill you slowly!” Klaws said, grabbing Mr. Tickles’ ear. “And I’m going to enjoy it!”
“We’ll see about that!” Tickles said, rolling onto his back and slamming a punch into Klaws’ balls. As he bent over in agony, the clown bit down on the man’s nose as hard as he could.
Bone snapped.
Blood spurted.
“Argh!” Klaws screamed, trying to push his brother off. “You fucking bastard!”
“You ain’t fucking ‘ho-ho-ho’ing now, ya fat bastard!” Tickles said, getting to his feet and raining blows into his brother’s stomach. He finished with a mighty uppercut, which took the bad Santa off his feet.
He landed with a thunderous crash on top of the dinning table, which spilt and buckled under the weight.
“Kill me, will you?!” Tickles said, grabbing a table leg – his brother was leaking blood from all over. “I guess your killing days are over!”
He started to bludgeon his brother about the face and head, only stopping when his breath had run dry.
Klaws gargled as a fountain of blood popped from his sagging mouth.
“Let’s get out of here!” Crystal said. “Come on, Tickles.”
The clown leaped through the window first and crashed to the ground below. “Move!” he shouted up at them.
“I’m glad you managed to forgive me!” Crystal told Sam as she watched her move to the window.
“I’ll never forget,” Sam said with her back to Crystal.
Crystal pulled Sam backwards by her hair and exposed her throat. She placed the knife she’d picked up from the table to Sam’s throat. “Sorry, sis, but I had to make it sound convincing – you didn’t honestly think I’d let you walk out of here alive, did you?!”
“You fucking bitch!” Sam said, trying to wriggle free of Crystal’s grip.
“I had to make sure I got your guard!” she said, pressing the knife tight against her sister’s throat. “Sleep well…”
Sam managed an elbow to Crystal’s guts, and spun around as the grip loosened. “I think you underestimated me, whore!” she said, cocking the gun Rotwiler had dropped and sticking it in Crystal’s belly.
“Uh!” Crystal gasped as the hammer fell. Pain tore through her, and the blast
propelled her and Harry backward.
Before Crystal could move, her sister stood over her, the gun pointed at her face. “Like you, I too couldn’t allow you to live, even if you meant the apology or not. I guess we’re not that much different after all, Crystal,” she said, cocking the weapon.
“Please…”
“Too…Ugh!” Sam gargled as a throwing star stuck in her neck. As she collapsed to one side, the gun went off, but the bullet went wide and ploughed into Klaws.
Managing to get to her feet, Crystal looked over her sister as she tried to stem the blood flow.
“What a sneaky fucking bitch!” Harry said. “It’s a good thing I was prepared for her!”
“I’m sorry, Sam…” Crystal said, letting her words trail off as she jumped out the window.
Below, Mr. Tickles waited. He asked no questions, just helped her tighten a makeshift bandage aro
und her gunshot.
THE AFTERMATH
With Klaws finished off, Crystal decided to join Mr. Tickles at his circus. And with Sideshow Necrotic dead, he needed a new act to replace her anyway. (Mysteriously, Sideshow Nightshade had been back at her cage, awaiting her master’s return. When Crystal had said she’d seen the woman killed by Klaws, Nightshade had replied with, “You can’t kill what’s already dead!”
Out of respect, Mr. Tickles had taken time to bury Sideshow Necrotic on the grounds of the mansion. Once they had finished with that, they’d all piled into Crystal’s van and headed back to Porthcawl. They’d half expected to see Norm or Wadsworth somewhere on the side of the road, but nothing was seen of them, which was probably a good thing, Crystal had thought.
“It would seem we are going to be one big happy family?” Crystal said.
“It would seem that way!” Mr. Tickles said.
“I guess we’ll never know everything,” Crystal said.
“Probably not,” Mr. Tickles said.
“Wadsworth is still out there, and that could be a worry!”
“Does it fucking matter?” Harry asked. “We’re out of that shithole. And as far as you being boss, Crystal, that isn’t ever going to fucking happen!”
Again, they all laughed, and as the circus came into sight, they all felt safe, knowing the whole ordeal was over.
“You’ll all be protected at the circus,” Mr. Tickles said. “Trust me.”
“I guess it’s on to the next town!” Harry said. “When tomorrow rolls around, it’ll be business as usual!”
The other two grunted in agreement.
“I’m looking forward to the adventures that lie ahead of us!” Crystal said.
“It’s going to be fun, gang,” Mr. Tickles said. “Just wait and see!”
The next evening, the circus pulled out of Porthcawl with Crystal and Harry in tow. As promised, Mr. Tickles had sorted it with his ringmaster, enabling them to become a part of his show.
Next stop, London.
After that, who knows?
Maybe a town near you…?!
OR DID IT END LIKE THIS…
A skinny man in a butler suit stood before them, with two burly blokes at his back – they looked like FBI agents, with their black clothes, white shirts and dark shades. They even wore the same style of shoe.
“Ah, welcome! Do come in!” he said with a huge, silly grin on his face. “I’m Wadsworth.”
They were hesitant to step forward.
“Please, come, come!” But still the guests didn’t move – they just eyed the two men standing behind Wadsworth, which the butler picked up on. “Oh, I see – have my guards put you off?” he asked them.
“What’s with the gorillas?” Mr. Tickles asked, not liking the cut of their jib.
“You’ll have to excuse Olaf and Rotwiler – they are merely here for my protection,” he said with a glint in his eye. “It also means you won’t need all those sharp-looking things in here!”
“What the fuck is going on here, pal?!” Mr. Tickles said, grabbing Wadsworth by the lapels of his jacket and drawing him to his chest.
Rotwiler and Olaf went to intervene, but Wadsworth called them off.
“My! There’s no need for violence, my good man. I can assure you, I mean you no—”
“Either you start talking, or I’m going to rip your guts out with my bare hands!”
“Please! Release me at once, or I shall set my guards on you – they are armed with guns, and will easily cut you down, sir.”
“Do as he says!” Crystal said.
“Not until he starts talking!”
“All will be revealed once you’re—”
“What’s my brother doing in town?!”
“I—” Wadsworth was about to explain, but Mr. Tickles started to shake the butler in a violent way.
“Talk, damn it!”
“Please! Take your hands off me, sir. All will be explained inside – that’s if you can adhere to my rules, of course.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Crystal asked.
“If you don’t play by my rules, then none of you will know the truth!”
At that moment, they all heard the click of a hammer as one of the bodyguards drew his gun. “Step away from my boss!” the man said. A massive scar ran from his temple to his jaw line. “Now!” he barked, stepping closer to Wadsworth’s shoulder.
Reluctantly, Mr. Tickles let go of the butler, and then smoothed his uniform back into place. “Okay, Smiler – you got it,” he said, stepping away.
“Now, please, give your weapons to my…associates – you will not need them, I promise you.”
Slowly, they all did as Wadsworth asked and handed them to the butch bodyguards, who remained at the butler’s side.
“Is my sister here?”
Wadsworth poked his head around Mr. Tickles’ frame and addressed Crystal. “Yes, my dear. But don’t worry, she has been instructed not to harm you – a weapon was removed from her and given to my men.”
Mr. Tickles was first through the door, stating he had no weapons, but still the guards patted him down.
He was followed by Sideshow Necrotic, who handed over her hatchet before being searched for further weapons.
“Thank you!” Wadsworth said.
Next over the threshold was Sideshow Nightshade, who handed over her Bowie knives, before Crystal stepped up and gave Smiler her butcher knife.
“And does the little fella have any—”
“Hey, douche, less of the ‘little’. And no, he doesn’t have anything on him!” Harry said to the guard, who growled and bared his teeth.
“Okay,” Wadsworth said, chuckling and holding his hands up in mock terror. “If you’d all like to follow me, please.” Turning his back on them, Wadsworth directed them all to the lounge and opened the door. “If you’d care to step inside and help yourself to a drink,” he said, “proceedings will start as soon as our last guest arrives.”
When the door was thrown wide, Crystal’s and Sam’s eyes immediately locked together.
“You!” Crystal saw her sister mouth. “I’m going to kill you!” Samantha raged, throwing her half-empty glass of wine to one side.
As she crashed across the room, Mr. Tickles stepped in front of Crystal, blocking Sam from getting to her.
“I’ll kill you!” she raged as she fought against the unmovable mass of Mr. Tickles. “Get the fuck out of my…” she started, but let her words trailed off when he grabbed her by her arms and pushed her from his body.
Holding her firm with his immense grip, Mr. Tickles smiled his sharp-toothed grin and fixed her with his bloodshot eyes. “Let’s all try to play nice, is it?” he said in a low, eerie voice. “I’d hate to have to snap your neck, bitch!”
She shrank away as she tried pulling her arms free. “Please, let me go!” Sam begged.
“Do you promise to behave? Your sister will not harm you, if you do not make an attempt at her.”
“You expect me to believe that?!” she spat.
“It’s the truth, Sam,” Crystal said. “I didn’t come here to hurt you – I just want to know what this whole fucked up situation is about!”
“I’ll make a deal with you here and now – for tonight only, we make a truce. But once this evening is over and we are out of here, it’s back on between you and me!”
“I can live with that,” Crystal said, and offered her hand, which Sam shook.
“Am I safe to let you go, Sam?” Mr. Tickles asked.
“Yes, of course. I always keep my word.”
“For what it’s worth, you look beautiful,” Crystal said, wiping a tear from her eye.
“Fit as fuck, I’d say!” Harry chirped in.
“Who are you people?” Norm butted in. “Are you friends of Angharad?”
”Don’t be a dipshit, Norm!”
Crystal looked at the man standing behind a wheelchair – which was holding a skeleton. Is he talking to himself? she though
t. “Are you feeling all right?” she asked.
“Perfectly fine!” he said. “Why shouldn’t I be?”
“Ignore that tart, Norm – or are you taken by her body?”
“No, Angharad – I have eyes only for you, and you know that. I only went with those other women so I could help fix you,” he said.
A silence fell in the room.
Crystal looked at the other guests – their reactions mirrored one another, apart from Mr. Tickles, who walked up to Norm.
“You do know you’re pushing a bag of bones around there, son, don’t you?!” he asked, and then laughed hysterically, causing the Sideshows to join in.
“I don’t think it’s nice, you laughing at my wife. She doesn’t like being laughed at!” Norm shouted, his face solid with seriousness. Stepping from behind the wheelchair, he pressed his body against Mr. Tickles’. He may have been shorter than the clown, but Norm looked very chiseled, his jaw square. “Now, if you’ll apologise like I know you’re going to, I’m sure this whole matter can be forgotten!”
“Bah-ha-ha-ha!” Mr. Tickles bellowed in Norm’s face. “You’re fucked in the head, man! I’m not saying sorry for Jack shit.” He gave Norm a slight push and turned his back on the man, who reminded Crystal of a stone.
“Well, Daisy? Are you just going to stand there like a little girl wetting yourself, or are you going to be a man and do something about that overweight KoKo?!”
Putting his hand on Mr. Tickles’ shoulder, Norm turned the clown around and punched him in the face with his free hand. Mr. Tickles head flew to one side but the rest of him didn’t move – a growl gathered in the pit of his stomach as a trickle of blood ran down his mouth.
He licked it away as he stepped closer to Norm and looked down on him. “Is that all you’ve got, Nancy?!”
Norm swung for the clown again, only to have his fist get caught in mid-air by Mr. Tickles’ huge open hand. It closed around Norm’s and squeezed. Clicking sounds ensued as Mr. Tickles compressed as hard as he could.
“Ah, get off! You’re breaking my hand!” Norm whimpered.
The clown smiled – his teeth were covered in blood.
Escapees and Fevered Minds Page 17
