Killer Klowns x Male Reader

Jumbo

There was a desperate attempt for escape as you were dragged through the perfectly circular hole. Your kicks and screams deemed useless for there was no more a hole to escape through— the hole healed up leaving no sign it had ever existed.

The urge to give in was strong, to just let yourself be dragged along like a big sack of nothing. However, you knew there had to be a chance, slim or not, to escape this insane clown house. Survival tip number one, analyze your surroundings.

The dark and colorful room was almost impossible to grasp from where you were being lugged along. The cartoonish hands curled up in your shirt gripped tighter once upon noticing your sudden calm demeanor. Following along the thing's long clownish arms, you are met with something best described as a large clown with alienated features.

"Holy shit," You whisper to yourself. The klown had an abnormally large forehead with green tuffs of hair on the top and sides of it's head. It was dressed in average clown attire— purple jumpsuit with a pink ruffle around their neck.

You sneer, "Y-you're fucking ugly."

The klown's attention is brought down to you. A sinister smile appeared on it's disfigured face, not seeming to understand or care about your insult. You look away from it's beady eyes, not able to stare into their cryptic emptiness any longer.

A faint shout of your name is heard from outside the circus tent. Immediately, you knew it had to be Evan— damn bastard was too busy theorizing about alien clowns than to care about you being captured about said alien clowns.

The klown came to a halt, it seemed it also noticed Evan's worried cries. Realization hit— this could be your one chance at escaping. Nice job, Evan!

Taking the distraction to your advantage, you bit the klown's hand as hard as your jaw could've mustered. It's grip weakened and you elbowed it's side as best as you could've from where you sat on the grassy ground. You gritted your teeth, pushing yourself to go, go, go before the klown could regain composure. However, before you could've made it a couple feet away, a hand latched itself to your foot. The fall to the ground was critical— you landed face first in to a pile of dirt and you could've swore you felt your nose shatter.

A low growl brings you back to consciousness. The klown grabbed you by the waist and flung you over his wide shoulder, not acknowledging the blood that dripped from your nose to his silk-like clown suit. The last thing you saw before falling unconscious was a long and colorful corridor.