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The stranger slumped against the back of the couch, out cold. You stood there petrified for a few moments, letting the bat drop out of your hands and onto the floor. The panic set in and your first instinct was to flick on the lights. Once the room was bright and you could see, you realized you had an unconscious monster on your hands, that would probably be really pissed when it woke up. You frantically looked around, and your eyes settled on a shoe closet in the hall between your room and the living room. The next thing you knew you were dragging the limp, lanky form towards said closet, your arms hooked under it's arms. The creature was surprisingly light, and from what you could tell, male. The closet was shallow, but just big enough for a person to stand in with the door closed. As you propped him up against the back wall you realized he was also nearly 8 feet tall. An even more chilling discovery grabbed your attention, though. This scrawny, monochromatic creature....it looked exactly like Laurel's drawings. Unable to look at it for another second, you slammed the closet door closed, and propped a chair under the doorknob for extra measure.

Now that the creature was (hopefully) contained, you ran into your room and grabbed your cellphone. You couldn't call the police. What could they do about a creature like this? Would they even believe you if you told them that a dead kid's 8 foot tall imaginary clown friend had broken into your apartment??

Desperately you dialled the only person who might be able to help you, if he would even pick up. Your heart sank when you reached his voicemail. The only thing you could do now was leave a message after the beep.

"Hey Brian. I-I'm sorry to call so late but I need your help..." You swallowed, "P-please....I just knocked out an 8 foot tall clown and locked him in my shoe closet...this thing, it's not..it's not human Brian. I don't know what to do and I don't know if the c-closet will even hold it so please I need your help-" your voice cracked, and you couldn't hold it in any longer. You hung up the phone and dropped it on the floor. You began to cry, each sob sending powerful waves down your body. For a while you just stood there in your room, with a monster down the hall and no hope that anyone would come to help you, and cried. Ten or fifteen minutes passed. By now you were just a weary husk, hiccuping every now and then as you sat on the floor. Then the doorbell rang, waking you from your trance. Had someone called the police? Was it a neighbor who'd heard the commotion and come to check on you? Or maybe...it could be....Brian?

The doorbell rang again. You stood up and made your way to the door. At this point, anyone would be a welcome sight. You just needed someone, and maybe you could convince them...

You opened the door and came face to face with the barrel of a gun, and a loud bang.

Schooled [Laughing JackxReader]Wo Geschichten leben. Entdecke jetzt