At first, the clowns started showing up at street corners advertising a circus that was coming to town.
After two days, and no circus, people began to wonder what was going on?
On the third day, the clowns were gone from the street corners, but began showing up in alleys and people’s driveways. They never said anything. They just stood there with their exaggerated evil clown smiles.
The town’s mayor and city council held meetings trying to determine how to deal with the silent clowns that were scaring their children. No apparent laws were being broken. They always left at curfew.
How could the townspeople in Knotty Grove, New Hampshire, know that it was the annual Gathering of Crazy Clowns? They came from nearby states. All with criminal records. All with garishly painted clown faces. All, a little crazy.
The tradition began years ago when John Wayne Gacy, serial killer and rapist, invited a few criminal clowns he knew to hunt for victims as a group in a small town in Maine. It didn’t end with his death.
There were ten crazy clowns this year. They advertised on the Dark Web, inviting like-minded murderers to join them every September 15th at a different location. This year it was Knotty Grove’s turn.
The fact that it was such a small, isolated little town without its own police force, made it an ideal target.
Ho! Ho! The Clown, was this year’s host. He picked the hunting grounds with care. It was an honor to select victims. The sense of approval from his fellow serial killers made him feel justified in his bloody dealings.
Just before they broke up and went in search of victims, the Evil Santa Clown said what they were all thinking. “I can’t wait to see the surprise on their faces.”
The mayor, a computer geek, discovered what the clowns were up to and called for a townhall meeting.
“Well, there you have it,” the mayor said, while pointing at the clowns on his computer monitor.
“These clowns are serial killers that like to stalk in groups. They especially like finding small communities like ours.”
“I don’t think they’re going to like what they find in Knotty Grove,” chuckled the town’s only gas station owner.
“Here’s the thing. These clowns won’t be missed by anyone,” the mayor said.
The gathering broke out into cheers, showing their fangs in glee when he gave them the green light to go hunting.
As It Stands, the hunter and the prey story has many variations. This one is mine.
The Creative Chronicles of Dave Stancliff 