World of Yesterday (WoT Sequel)

Zoey’s Note: Hey guys! I hope that you’ve all had a great summer and have an even better fall. Since the spooky season is coming up, I decided it’s about time I get started on a “World of Tomorrow” Sequel. It is a little bit graphic so do not read past the Trigger Warning if you have problems with any of the things listed. I do not write curse words or anything explicit in my stories (though maybe a couple innuendos). I hope you enjoy the story, and please go check out part one! Be sure to leave honest feedback, good or bad. Love you all!

https://blog.reedsy.com/short-story/5e85tq/

TW: INTENSE SEQUENCES, GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOOD AND INJURIES SUCH AS MOVING BONES, MISSING PEOPLE, CLOWNS, MIRRORS (i have an irrational phobia of mirrors which is why I’m listing it), PEOPLE NEARLY BEING EATEN ALIVE BY A SCARY, IRREGULAR CIRCUS CLOWN, MILD INNUENDOS, NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCES, AND SCARY STUFF

This is my worst nightmare. I just shot a scary clown in the head with an arrow to save my soon-to-be boyfriend and his idiot friend, but I don’t think that my shot was very effective. Shards of glass and splotches of blood are scattered everywhere from his attack on Dragen right before. The pasty-faced monster is now racing towards us in the middle of The House of Mirrors with a devilish look on his face and rows of millions of sharp teeth crowding the inside of his mouth, the blood of hundreds of people painting the tips and edges a violent red. I saw him earlier today under the bleachers, wolfing down a child. I tried to run over to save her, but they both vanished into thin air before I could get to them. Right after, I heard wild laughter ringing in my mind that evidently only I could hear. I know that I cannot show fear, for this only seems to make his urge to devour you to nothing even stronger. I will not look back to see that horrific, bloodthirsty grin unless I want to become Ronald McDonald’s Happy Meal. 

     Sawyer and I hold onto Dragen tightly, making sure that he does not slip. His leg is swollen and pale from all the blood loss, and yet he’s still cuter than a lost puppy. After he was attacked, I saw the bone shift under his skin. I want so badly for true love’s kiss to work it’s magic and heal his wounded, crippled body. I’ve never kissed anyone yet because he’s the first person to make me feel this desire. I want to make sure that I have this chance because if we let go of him or let him slip, he’s not going to survive. This scares me more than the thought of being eaten myself. 

      As soon as he catches up to us, I chuck another arrow straight at his chest, though I’m aiming for the throat. He stops dead in his tracks to stare at the impalement in his chest, momentarily stunned. Then, he yanks it out, revealing a small hole. It regenerates quickly. He bares his razor teeth in a big, toothy grin, and begins to cackle. Sawyer curses. I take a glance behind me only to find three of myself staring anxiously back at me. We’ve been cornered.

     “You will never escape me, children,” he screams with maniacal laughter, “just like Dragonfruits's father!”

     Dragen gasps in pain.

     He laughs a little more hoarse, and we are frozen in fear. We’re going to die, I just know it.

     “I don’t normally prey on adults, but he was irresistible,” he smirks, drool dripping off of his red lips as he sees the look of horror written on Dragen’s face, “so vulnerable and afraid. And to think I was actually targeting Dragonfruit that night.”

     Dragen’s face is almost colorless, and mine begins to fade to red.

    “Only I can call him Dragonfruit,” I warn, gripping my sheath of arrows threateningly, “and I’m going to shoot your eyes out and wear them like earrings if you take one step closer to us.”

     “Yeah,” Sawyer punctuates shakily, “this chick’s a real baddie! You better watch out for her, clown boy!”

     He turns his head to face me in amusement.

    “Mora, Mora, Mora,” he begins to shake his plastered head, licking up the slobber on his lips, “trying so hard to be confident and hold it together when really, you’re none of that right now. Just a scared little girl trying to protect her beloved boyfriend. Oh, how I love it when they’re this close to breaking down. Gives them more flavor.”

    “Wait, so you’re actually trying to eat us?” Sawyer trembles, “man, I thought you were just playing with us!”

     He's definitely toying with us, but not like he's teasing us. He seems to enjoy playing with his food like a child eating animal crackers.

“Why don’t you just come over here and see if I’m just playing with you, Sully?” the clown muses, tilting his head, “like you said earlier, maybe this is just a dream.”

     The Ramen-headed halfwit acts as if he’s actually considering it! 

     “Idiot, don’t do it,” Dragen exclaims, trying (and failing) to push out of my arms. He’s in too bad of a condition to escape my grasp.

    “Nah, man, I think I’m good,” he laughs nervously in response to the clown. 

    “Well, suit yourself, I guess,” the clown shrugs. He sits to himself for a minute.

     “Should we just-“ Sawyer starts, taking a step.

     “Or don’t,” the clown interrupts, pouncing on Sawyer. 

     The boy screams like a little girl. He obviously doesn’t understand the assignment; don’t act or feel too much fear. I shoot five arrows at the clown, knocking him off of the panting boy. 

     “Jeez, I thought he was going to, like, make out with me or something,” Sawyer shudders.

     I roll my eyes at this comment. The clown leaps towards me and my immobilized boyfriend this time, not even bothering to pull out the arrows. This causes me to drop Dragen, who shrieks in pain, and the bow and sheath. 

     “Amora,” gasps Dragen.”

     He pins me down and stares into my deep brown eyes hungrily with his intense blue. I breathe hard, trying desperately to calm myself down. His breath smells pungently of blood; dry, sickening, and metallic. I can’t take it anymore. I start to cry out and scream for the dumb blonde, for Dragonfruit… for anyone to help me. The two boys stare helplessly, as if waiting for something to do. Dragen tries to stand up, but cannot. All of the clown’s weight is on me. I’m breathless. He mocks my horrified expression for a minute, and snickers.

     “Hi Amora,” he grins joyously, “bye Amora!”

     He opens his mouth wide over my head, rows and rows of teeth sheltering my eyes from looking anywhere elsewear. I can feel his teeth closing in on my face, and Dragen crying out for him to spare me. It throbs. I know that he is breaking skin. His teeth begin to sink deeper into my head, and I smell so much blood that my own lunch feels ready to come back up. His teeth begin to slide down my face. Jeez, couldn’t this clown kill me any faster? Before he can bite off my entire face, however, I hear the voice of a child running into our area. The clown pulls away, licking the fresh, warm, red contents off of his chin, and slinks into the darkness.

     I breathe hard, knowing that if this child didn’t come skipping past us with her daddy beside her, I would’ve become the next face on one of the many missing posters covering the town. Dragen’s romantic brown eyes are fixed on me, filling with tears. He runs over to me and hugs me tightly. He smells a little bit like blood, but his main scent is not like dragon fruits. He smells warm, like all of my favorite manly scents in the world. It’s hard to describe, but I never want to pull away. Sawyer stares at the two of us enviously. I snort laughter.

     “Get in, dummy,” I beam.

     He runs over and throws his arms around us. He smells gross and sweaty with fear, but I don’t mind; as do I. We all cry together, happy to be alive. We know that that thing is still out there thinking about the taste of our flesh, but we don’t care as of right now. We just care that we’re together. 

     “Now let’s go get you to a doctor, Dragonfruit,” I smile, “I see an exit to The House of Mirrors pretty close by. “I need to find my cousin.”

     “What’s your number?” he blurts, “sorry if you don’t want to give it to me or anything because of your parents, I-”

     I press a single finger over his lips, smirking.

     “No no, you’re fine,” I smile. 

     Beneath the sheith (which I found outside of The Funhouse before entering) and write down my number in my small, loopy handwriting: (787) 492-3302. I press it into his hands and he kisses it playfully, to which I smile. He then proceeds to fold it and tuck it into his green hoodie’s pocket. 

    Sawyer and I lift his arms over each of our shoulders to help him outside, and look over to find an ambulance. 

    “Let’s go find your mom and try our best to fix up that leg of yours,” I announce. 

    I sigh, collapsing onto my bed after a long day. Bandages and carbon dioxide burn various spots on my forehead, cheeks, chin and neck. Mrs Fell blamed me and Sawyer for Dragen’s injury until we showed her the broken glass. We never told her about the clown because we knew that she’d never believe us. I left the carnival with my cousin Alyssa, hoping to never return again. I wonder how much that clown craves us now that we’re away. How much he longs for the taste of our blood. If he would be waiting right there for us if we were to ever return to the circus. I hope not.

     I see an incoming call on my phone from Dragen. Butterflies. What if he finally decides to ask me out? What if he asks me out on a date? Does he even like me like that? I pick up the phone and set it close to my ear.

     “Hey Dragenfruit,” I greet him.

     “Amora,” he bellows, his voice serious, “we have to kill that clown. This is urgent.”

     “What?” I gasp, alarmed.

     “Tomorrow we have to go find him and destroy him,” his charming voice demands over the phone.

     “Dragen Penton Fell, we are not going back to that circus,” I apprise, “are you serious?”

     “Deadly,” he punctuates, “the clown has twenty more victims, and five of them were never even at or near the fair. I saw blue eyes in my basement. He’s coming for us, baby. I need you and Sawyer to help out. I have crutches and cannot defeat him alone. Adults won’t believe me.”

     I swallow hard before finally processing and accepting what he’s saying.

     “I’m in.”