Chapter 11

The need for fresh blood doesn't leave them the luxury of waiting for darkness, using the blood as soon as possible will maintain its much valued properties.

With fatigue setting in they continue driving to Joey's cabin which seems to take forever. After finally arriving a couple hours later the cabin looks just as they left it, no signs of visitors anywhere.

"You do know there could be risks associated with what we're about to do."

"I know." Daria answers quietly. "...But this is something that has to be done."

Samantha continues to explain. "I mean it could be very risky to us, we've never done something like this." She pauses for a moment. "I'm willing to take the risk, I just want to make sure that you're willing to take the same risk."

"After what we went through... and after what Cindy and others like her went through; we have to take this risk!"

Both seem pleased after further inspection of the cabin and its grounds.

They gather the cloth bag along with the canteen of blood from the trunk of the car and walk out to the location where Cindy's life was taken, it's also where they buried her body. They knew Cindy deserved a proper burial and it just seemed appropriate at the same location.

Bringing her body to the authorities just wasn't an option, not even anonymously. Fully aware that their DNA would be found on Cindy, they could never live with themselves with the thought of others thinking that perhaps they had something to do with the little girls death, when in fact they tried to prevent her death.

It would all be extremely difficult to prove and the reality is, Samantha and Daria are not quite themselves anymore, and although not Cindy's; both do in fact have blood on their hands.

It was still daytime but the sun wasn't shining very bright, almost as if the sun had a conscious mind and knew to keep at bay.

Under an ancient tree with a trunk as big as a compact car, they set up in their usual fashion, the black tarp, circle of candles and incense is all in place.

They remove their clothes and step inside the circle, slowly kneeling as they synchronize thoughts.

Daria reaches into the bag, she removes a ribbon that was used to tie Cindy's hair back and places it between them.

The wind is completely still as the skies grey canopy shelters them from the sun. Each begin to apply the blood from the canteen by pouring it into their hands and rubbing it all over themselves. Being careful to avoid spilling any, they take their time and help cover where the other had missed. Slowly rubbing it in, their skin absorbs the essence of his scarlet contribution.

Now totally covered they hold onto Cindy's ribbon, their thoughts are one in the way they need not speak, only focus on what is to be.

Breathing heavy and sweating profusely as the air gets thick and hot like a sauna. Samantha and Daria sit with their eyes closed and share one anothers thoughts. The thoughts of love, hatred, life, death, Cindy, her killer, faster and faster the images become more vivid while reciting silently passages from within their minds.

A hush comes over them as the air gradually thins making it easier to breathe.

Cooling and drying their bodies is a subtle breeze that extinguishes the candles and slowly rearranges the clouds, not in any specific formation just a constant movement while still providing shelter from the sun.

Surrounding them both individually is an energy that can't be seen. A euphoric electricity can be felt all over their bodies. Amazed by the presence of this new sensation they continue to explore each others flesh as the feeling massages their fingertips. Like in a dream, they experience the hovering sensation of flight, as if the earth where they sit has transformed into a magical place of harmony, a recognizable place from where they once originated, a recognizable place now engulfing them with an exhilarating calm.

Never before have they been so tuned in to the earth. The green of the grass becomes more vibrant, the air tastes sweet as the leaves from the trees seem like animated emerald green stars falling from the sky, very little light and yet they still shimmer.

Unexpectedly an exploding force of energy throws both Samantha and Daria apart. With such strength it tosses them like rag dolls about ten to fifteen feet.

As they lay unconscious, conjured between them is a manifestation of Cindy joined together with the entity sharing both Samantha and Daria. A most unheard of combination, the divine purity of a child fused together with a grotesque abomination; divinity and malevolence entwined as one.

The serene ground where they now lie is no longer a land from a dark fairy tale but the rebirth-place of Cindy, the little girl is born again and she's no longer looking through the eyes of a child.

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It was cold,
cold,
the cold of death.
Where was I? Was I dead? I had gone to sleep that night in the warmth of my bed and when I awoke it was dark.
Oh, it was so dark.
Dark and cold, darker and colder than the deepest pit of hell. I was lieing on my back on a hard damp floor and I was afraid to walk so I crawled,
slowly,
ever so slowly I crawled.
I would find a way out of this terrible hell, if I truly was dead then I would show death that it could not keep me here. So I crawled on until my hands hit a wall. A wall that was wet with a warm slime. Then I saw light, just a thin little line, and I crawled over to it. I put my hands up to the warm, wet wall and pushed,
I pushed hard.
It gave and moved outward. That was when I saw that the walls were not covered with slime, but with blood! The blood of those who've entered this terrible hole before me. I stood up and stumbled,
I stumbled through the door into a room filled with fire, a sea of fire that stretched on and on forever. Yes they were the fires of hell, and in that fire I saw the souls of many, and heard thier tortured screams. And then I was surrounded, surrounded by hundreds of ghouls and demons. They were screeching with laughter, and that laughter grew, it grew louder and louder untill I could bear it no longer. I tried to run, but they reached out and grabed me. I broke away and ran. Then I tripped and I was falling,
falling.
I awoke with a start, my body drenched with sweat, I was tangled up in my sheets lieing on the floor next to my bed. I could hear a child crying from somewhere in the distance, and the sun was shining brightly upon my face. Just a nightmare I thought with relief, then I noticed my hands. They were covered with blood,
blood that was not my own.
Just a nightmare I thought,
or was it?

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The kids loved the big, goofy clown. He went by the name Smiley the Clown. Smiley the Clown was performing in front of the kids at one of the boy’s birthday party. He was husky and wore a yellow, red dotted outfit, along with a puffy, red wig. A giant, red smile was drawn across his round, white painted face.
The kids went wild when Smiley would blow up balloons into animal shaped figures. They laughed harder every time he messed up on one. It would noisily deflate to the floor. Smiley laughed clumsily along with them, as he handed each kid a misshaped animal.
When it was time to go home, all of the boys and girls gave Smiley the Clown a hug goodbye. They then ran outside the house, where their moms and dads were waiting for them in their cars.
After the birthday boys’ parents gave Smiley his thirty dollar check, Smiley packed up all of his belongings. He then wished the birthday boy a happy birthday, and then headed out to his van.
Once Smiley the Clown had climbed into his old, beaten up van, he saw the attractive looking mother still waiting in her minivan to pick up her kid. He began to glare at her in perverse sickness.
She would make a fine looking corpse, Smiley thought in tempting lust. He stared ravenously at her shiny, brown hair and her pretty, hazel eyes. Smiley knew he could draw a perfect smile over those luscious lips.
Once the gorgeous mother had noticed Smiley spying on her, she gave him a small smirk. A chill had crept down her spine, when she had seen his insanely aroused eyes gawking at her. When she realized the creepy clown was still gazing lustfully at her, she hopped out of her minivan. She then headed quickly into the house, where parents were still leaving with their kids.
Smiley the Clown gave out a small, quiet chuckle, as he started up his noisy van, and drove off.
When Smiley arrived at his house out in the open country, he came pulling his van into the garage. He then opened the back doors of his van, where he pulled out a slaughtered teenaged girl. Blood still seeped out of her slashed throat, as he started to drag her into the house.
Smiley hummed a children’s tune to himself, while sliding the dead girl’s blood covered corpse in through the kitchen. He suddenly stopped, when he noticed his two dead pals Bud and Twinkie were sitting at the kitchen table.
“What? Have you two been eatin’ my cereal again?” he hollered. He saw the two cereal bowls placed in front of the mangled corpses of the two slaughtered victims. Captain Crunch cereal was scattered across the wooden table.
“Damn you two! That cereal better be cleaned up off that table by the time I get back up here, ya hear?” Smiley clamored at the two dead guys. He then proceeded with scooting the butchered girl down into the basement, as he hummed along to himself.
As they came reaching the end of the blood smeared staircase, Smiley the Clown said hello to his smiling companions of strangled, massacred victims. He had drawn large, red smiles across their bloody, horrified faces. Most of them were young, teenaged girls. Smiley thought they were the prettiest ones. Others were twenty to thirty year old adults. More of them women then men. They were all people Smiley had captured and murdered. For the overgrown men, Smiley had used a shotgun on them. With the women, he had taken them into his barn, where he had blindfolded them and killed them with an ax or a chainsaw.
After he would kill them, he would drag them down into his cellar. He would then draw smiles across their faces, because he did not want his friends always looking scared and terrified all the time. Besides, he wanted them to look like him. Smiley the Clown wanted the whole world to be full of laughs and smiles.
“Smile,” Smiley said to the slaughtered, teenaged girl. He started to draw a big, red smirk across her blood dried lips. “Don’t be so sad. You’re too pretty to look so sad.”
Smiley the Clown had found the girl walking along the sidewalk, when he was on his way to the kid’s birthday party. He had slowly stopped along the side of the street, several yards away from her. She still had not yet seen him, when he came swiftly creeping up behind her. He threw a small duffel bag over her head, as he started hurling her away into his van, where he instantly sliced her throat and stabbed her to death.
When he was finished coloring in the enormous grin, Smiley came kissing the dead girl’s mouth. He then headed back upstairs.
“I cannot believe this!” Smiley yelled in frustrated rage, when he saw the scattered Captain Crunch still lying across the kitchen table. “You bastards never listen to me, do ya?” he screamed, grabbing a huge kitchen knife from off the shelf. He then began stabbing the already wounded victims in the chest.  “I told ya to clean this shit up by the time I got back up here! But no, ya two dumb shits never listen, do ya?”
Suddenly, Bud went tumbling out of his chair. Blood and guts went gushing out from his giant bullet hole.
“Come on, Bud! Get up off the floor! Have better table manners, boy!” Smiley groaned. He came picking the blood and gut gushing corpse from off the floor, and positioning him back on his chair.
Smiley came sitting down in the chair next to Bud. Bud was a young rancher Smiley had shot one night, when Bud was out herding his cattle.
“Bud, you didn’t tell Twinkie about what we did that one time up in my bedroom, did ya?” Smiley asked his quiet friend, smirking hideously.
Bud sat mutely in his chair.
Smiley glanced over at Twinkie. Part of Twinkie’s face had been blown off. Pieces of his brain were sticking out of his crushed skull. His bloodshot eyes bulged out of their bleeding sockets.
“Oh, Twinkie, don’t be jealous! One of these days, I’ll take ya up to my bedroom, too!” Smiley laughed. “I started getting’ hungry. Let me have some cereal,” he said, sliding one of the bowls full of cereal and milk over to him. There were streaks of blood floating in the bowl. Milk and blood began trailing down Smiley’s mouth, as he gobbled up the soggy Captain Crunch.
After he was done gulping down the blood filled cereal, Smiley could not help himself from sitting next to his handsome Bud. He was about to lean over and kiss him, when suddenly he heard the loud movement of cars pulling up in front of his house. Smiley quickly ran into the dining room to glance out the window. There were about ten police cars in front of his house, along with a Swat team van. He bolted into the basement.
As the Swat team came bursting in through the front door, they made their way throughout the house. Some of them ran upstairs to check the different rooms. They became sickened with horror when they discovered the two, gruesome corpses of Bud and Twinkie sitting at the kitchen table.
When they made their way down into the basement, a few of the Swat members almost vomited from what they came encountering. They could not believe their frightened and disgusted eyes, as they found mutilated bodies sprawled across the cellar floor. Some were positioned in chairs and on desks, with missing body parts hiding in boxes. Shivers scurried down the spines of the petrified Swat members, when they saw the red smiles drawn across the corpses’ mouths.
All of a sudden, the Swat members crouched down, with their firearms held out in front of them, as they could hear a chainsaw starting up.
Suddenly, Smiley the Clown came charging out from behind an old tool shelf, with a roaring chainsaw held high above his head. “Smile for me!” he clamored in loud rage. He gave the Swat members a wicked, psychotic grin, while rushing towards them.
“Fire!” one of the Swat members hollered loudly over the screeching chainsaw.
Smiley gave out an excruciating wail, as he was filled with fiery machinegun bullets. The Swat members thought they could hear him chuckling, while he began descending gradually to the floor. More bullets went darting through his chest, when he came dropping the chainsaw away from him.
Before he died, Smiley the Clown glanced around at the slaughtered, smiling victims he had murdered over the past some years, and whispered, “Goodbye, my friends. Always smile for Smiley.”

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