Chapter 7: S#2. That (2)

“Summer, I have something to tell you.”

Ellen approached.

My gaze was drawn to her smooth, elastic legs, visible below her shorts.

She was enchanting.

Being Western[1], her proportions were nearly perfect.

I thought of the exposure scenes of beauties in horror movies.

Such scenes, deemed essential, were not new to me.

I always admired the actresses’ figures.

Seeing Ellen, I thought a real exposure scene would be quite…

No, what am I thinking, looking at the heroine’s mom like that.

I hurriedly gathered my thoughts.

“Do you need something from me…?”

“I heard you saved Nancy in the forest. She said it would have been a disaster without you. Thank you for saving Nancy.”

“I only did what needed to be done.”

“I agree. Saving an angel-like child like Nancy is, of course, the right thing to do.”

Ellen poked my chest with her finger.

“But don’t get the wrong idea. You are not Nancy’s boyfriend. If you lay a hand on my daughter… I won’t let you off easy.”

Ellen was looking up at me, given the height difference.

Despite that, Ellen was not at all intimidated.

She glared at me as if ready to slap me.

I felt as if my cheek was tingling.

I could understand where Ellen was coming from.

Because Nancy kept nagging, she reluctantly lent me the garage, but this was a home where she lived alone with her daughter.

It wasn’t a place to bring in a menacing man over 2 meters tall.

Of course, from my perspective, the situation wasn’t pleasant either.

Sitting on pins and needles because of Ellen’s hostility.

But I have a reason to stay here.

Ellen Strode’s job is a novelist.

In horror movies, creators have a knack for survival.

It’s common to go mad or get kidnapped and confined by a crazy fan, but they usually stay alive.

It’s as if the screenwriters project themselves into the scenario.

The point is, to survive in this crappy horror movie, I need to be near a survivor.

Ellen, with a high chance of survival, is like a talisman I desperately need.

“Nancy is going to school tomorrow morning. Summer, you take her to campus. I can’t let her go alone because it’s unsafe with an escaped convict around.”

“Understood, Mrs. Strode.”

Her asking this shows she trusts me more than she fears the escaped clown convict.

Ellen turned away coldly and left the garage.

I lay down on the garage mattress.

According to the narrator, I am destined to confront the escaped clown convict.

A serial killer who has killed 22 people.

He tells a joke, and if you don’t laugh, he kills you on the spot by ripping your mouth open.

He repeats the joke until you can’t laugh anymore…

A technique that throws you into a dilemma with a question.

Similar to the urban legend of the Red Mask[2].

However, unlike the Red Mask, the clown killer was real, and there was no clear way to deal with him.

If I were to run into him, how should I face him?

For an ordinary person, overpowering him might be enough, but they said his build was similar to mine.

Being an escapee who has killed 22 people, he must be incredibly strong.

What if our strengths are equal?

It’s unlikely, but… what if he’s stronger than me?

That’s when courage and wisdom are needed.

What cleverness would a protagonist in a horror movie display to face him?

I pondered as I fell asleep.

—
Raei  Translations
—

It had been raining since the morning.

Nancy, a college student, was going to school by car.

As Ellen requested (ordered) yesterday, I decided to accompany her.

Since the clown killer also targeted women in cars, we couldn’t be too careful.

“Mom, have you seen a white envelope? It’s an assignment due today.”

“It’s right there on the chair.”

“Oh, here it is. Then, I’ll be going!”

“Wait a moment, Nancy.”

Ellen came with a double-barrel shotgun.

The barrel, which I had bent into a U shape yesterday in a show of strength, was straightened back into an I.

“Take this shotgun too. Just in case.”

“Ah, Mom~. We’ve got a cannon here, why would we need a gun!”

Nancy playfully said, grabbing my fist.

It truly was as bulky as a cannonball.

Nancy wore a yellow raincoat, and I had a black umbrella.

Stepping outside, we saw the streets soaked with rain.

The heavy rain was like bars made of water.

As we got into the car, a narration echoed in my head.

-Last night, the axe killer pondered how to face the clown killer. Huh, how did he know?

Can it read my thoughts too?

-But he couldn’t come up with a method.

I hadn’t come up with a way to counter the clown last night.

I tried to think of a clown’s weaknesses in horror movies but just fell asleep.

It would be better to think of something now.

A killer’s attack always comes from an unexpected direction.

“Where could the escapee be now…”

“Who knows? If he wore clown makeup, it would have been washed away by the rain.”

Nancy said, turning the steering wheel.

“Oh, by the way, Summer, you know the way back, right?”

“My memory is… a bit fuzzy.”

Caught by the red light, the car stopped at the crosswalk.

While waiting, Nancy took out a pen from her pocket.

“Summer, hand!”

I extended my hand to Nancy.

Nancy began to write something on my palm with a pen.

It tickled, causing my arm to jerk involuntarily.

What she wrote was a home address.

“Hehe. This way, you won’t forget, right?”

“Thanks, Nancy.”

Nancy smiled brightly.

Her smile was so pure, it was almost harmful to my heart.

“But Nancy, I haven’t asked what your major is. What are you studying?”

“I’m studying anthropology.”

“Anthropology?”

“Yeah. It’s the study of everything about humans.”

Anthropology…

It was the perfect major for a horror movie’s leading lady.

Studying everything about humans sounded impressive.

Though it’s a major that seems perfect for starving after graduation…

Well, Nancy’s mom is wealthy, so she’ll never have to worry about that.

“Some time ago, in the classroom, a professor talked about the clown killer. Back then, I had no idea he would escape from prison.”

“What did they say?”

“It was about a legend passed down in this town. A terrible monster that captures and eats children.”

“Does that have anything to do with the escapee?”

“Yes. The escapee claimed to have been inspired by that legend to commit his murders.”

Inspired by a monster’s legend to kill 22 people. He’s not your average madman.

Before we knew it, we had arrived in front of the campus. The rain had somewhat subsided.

Nancy, holding a white envelope, got out of the car.

Then, suddenly, the wind blew.

The white envelope slipped from Nancy’s hand and flew off like a drunk squirrel caught in the wind.

“Ah! My assignment…!!”

Nancy screamed in panic.

As soon as the envelope hit the ground, it was swept away by the rainwater.

“Oh no! If I don’t submit that today, I’ll fail!”

Nancy wailed, running after the envelope.

However, her raincoat hindered her speed.

With no other choice, I quickly jumped out of the car.

And ran after the drifting envelope.

Following the waterfall-like stream of rainwater beside the sidewalk, the envelope was quickly carried away.

But I was able to catch up quickly.

My legs are fast for my size.

Just as I was about to grab and retrieve the envelope.

“…Huh.”

The envelope slipped and went right into a storm drain installed on the curb.

The dark storm drain was like a black hole.

It looked too deep to retrieve the envelope.

What should I do now?

I can’t let Nancy fail because of this.

Then, I heard a noise from inside the storm drain.

I crouched down to look into the storm drain and saw something egg-shaped, a white head inside.

It was… a creepily looking clown.

It must be the clown killer who escaped at dawn.

He was in the drain, holding the envelope, grinning grotesquely.

He looked like a beast waiting for its prey. An unreal scene.

How is he even in there?

And isn’t this a scene straight out of a Stephen King[3] novel?

“Krkkrkrkkrkrk…”

The clown laughed, shaking the envelope.

His laughter sounded dirty, like phlegm rattling.

In horror movies, you should never ignore or mock a clown.

Nor should you show fear.

Because showing contempt or fear towards a clown in a horror movie means certain death.

So, you either treat them well so as not to offend them or beat them up so badly they can’t retaliate.

Like how Batman deals with the Joker.

The clown in the sewer opened his mouth.

“Krk, kekeke… Hello, George.”

“Who’s George?”

“Krkkrk. Wanna hear a joke, George?”

“No.”

But the clown, unfazed, threw out a joke anyway.

“Krkk, who is the moth’s mom?”

I’m not so free as to wonder who the moth’s mother is.

I need to get back to Nancy and return the assignment envelope.

“Kekkekeke… Come on, guess. Who’s the moth’s mom?”

“I don’t know.”

Then, the clown in the sewer struck a jesting pose and shouted the answer.

“The answer is… Mammoth!”

“What?”

“Krk, Mom… Moth…! Krkrkrkrk, krp, krhahah! Phuhuhuh!! Huh, hahahaha!!!!”

It was ridiculous.

I reached into the sewer and grabbed the clown’s collar.

“If you don’t want to die, hand over that envelope.”

—

[1. raei: this author.. has a western fetish]

[2. raei: Korean urban legend, lady in a red mask asks if you think she’s pretty. If you reply yes she makes you look like her (she has failed plastic surgery around her lips, similar cut to the Joker?) etc. etc. ]

[3. raei: haha if you haven’t realized yet, this is “It”. Didn’t know it was also a novel though. “It” by Stephen King, 1986]