The Comedy Killer
“Breaking news: A mad unidentified serial killer is on the loose, his description is as follows; black hoodie, black gloves, black and white comedy mask, and a white fedora. Said killer is armed with a knife, and the serial killer has been dubbed the; “Comedy Killer” Please lock all doors and windows until further notice as authorities work to locate the Comedy Killer If you find a body, look for these three aspects that indicate it was the Comedy Killer’s doing. One, a joker card from poker held in their hands. Two, their eyes missing, only leaving what’s left in their eye sockets. Three, the throat slit into the shape of a plus sign,” I heard over the TV. Whoever this ‘Comedy Killer’ was, I’m ready. There was a bat in my hands, my parents had already locked all the doors and windows.
I turned off the TV. My name is Michael, I was a 12-year-old boy at the time of this incident. As I looked out the window. The lamps flashed, as footsteps were heard downstairs. My parents are asleep. So who was downstairs? I immediately locked my door and called my parents to tell them. But there was no response. I was on my own now. I held my bat firmly, as I stood against my door. How could this killer get in? My thoughts were filled with fear. My heart was pounding faster, with every step I heard outside. Suddenly I heard a gut-wrenching scream, my parents… No… Suddenly, there was a stabbing sound. Then followed by silence.
I heard footsteps coming into my room. I closed my eyes in fear as it got closer, and closer. Once it stopped, there was just chilling silence. No sound, no breathing on the other side, just pure silence.
Then a sudden knock on my door. Again and again, before it stopped. My heart was racing, and my anxiety skyrocketing. Suddenly, a knife was jabbed through the door, before it was pulled out, and then a hand came out grabbing the lock of the door. Thinking quickly, I hit the hand with my bat, but nothing happened. It just unlocked the door. I stepped back as he kicked the door open, knife in his hand. It was the Comedy Killer. His knife was bloody, and my hands trembled, knowing that he indeed killed my parents.
He suddenly lunged at me, knife ready. I swung my bat at him, knocking him to the floor. As he stood up, blood was dripping from beneath his mask. He, then threw his knife scraping my cheek, and hitting the TV. Taking this opportunity, I hit him in the head, but he didn’t stumble. He didn’t even move... He just looked at me, and the sound of screams suddenly filled my ears as he stood there. I dropped my bat, covering my ears but I still heard those screams. I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth, blood dripping out of my nose, as I heard more screams… Screams of his victims. As I lay on the floor, my eyes fully shut, I passed out from the screams, the last thing I heard was the sounds of his dark and chilling laughter. Amongst the screams.
The next morning I suddenly woke up. My head was fuzzy, my eyes blurry. There were cops around me, my bat bloodier than that night. They thought I was the one who killed my parents… I tried to explain myself, but they didn’t listen. Since I was just a kid back then, they only gave me two years of confinement.
Every day I spent there, I’d have visions every night. That one day I’ll take down the one who caused my trauma, my pain, my agony, and others as well. I’d draw him, being strangled before being stabbed by me, and my hands, one day. I knew this day was coming in the future. He wouldn’t escape me.
It's been thirteen years since this incident, and I’m now on the search for him. The Comedy Killer. I still remember the screams of my parents and the gut-wrenching screams. Trauma dreading over me.
“Breaking news; The Comedy Killer had presumably returned, with two more similar kills being reported. The appearance of The Comedy Killer is as follows.” The news report. The sound of the news blurred in my ears. He’s back. Thirteen years ago, I was weak and hopeless. This time, I’m ready. He won't have the last laugh, I will.
Credited to Munddane horror
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