Always Pay the Entertainment

I was working in the office one day, when suddenly my cell phone rang.   I answered it, and there was no response.   Then, finally, I heard an eerie, high pitched voice say,

"Michellle," and then it hung up.

I sat there for a moment, slightly unnerved, but I went back to work anyway.   Then, 42 minutes later, I got the same call;

"Michellle,"- but this time, the voice stayed on the line for a few minutes, breathing hard, then started to cackle like a gleeful hyena.   That laugh made my blood turn to ice.

"Hello?" I asked, "Who's there?   Hello?"

Then the voice hung up again.

I was starting to get seriously freaked out now.   I tried hitting redial, but the number didn't exist.   I called the operator, and tried to sort it out myself, but no dice.

So, I went back to work once more, and did not give it another thought for the rest of the day, until, exactly 42 minutes before the end of the day, i got the call again.   This time the voice said my name, then cackled, then, at the very end, before it hung up, I heard the distinct sound of a bike horn honking, and the sound of circus music, tinkling away as if from a great distance.

Then, the voice hung up again.   I was really starting to freak out.   I tried to concentrate on my work once again, but, I couldn't focus.   Finally I decided to go and talk to building security.   They might at least know someone who could find out where that call was coming from.

I got up and headed into the stairwell, and started down the stairs.   I was about halfway down when I heard it again.   It was echoing circus music, mixed with demonic cackling and that freaky bike horn, coming from somewhere up above me.

I hesitated, knowing I should ignore it, and just keep going, but something, maybe a morbid curiosity, made me throw caution to the wind and start heading up.

I walked up, and up, and up, all the way to the very top floor.   I was panting by the time I got out, and I stood in the doorway for a moment, catching my breath.   Then, I straightened and looked around.

The top floor was little more than one room, under construction and completely empty.   I looked over at the empty elevator shaft, where the music was coming from, and noticed a small boom box, shaped like a clown, sitting on the floor in front of the taped off elevator.

Slowly, I walked over to it, standing above it.   My eyes widened as I saw what was taped to the top.   It was my name, in big, dripping letters that looked like they could either be make-up or blood.

Then, a loud bike horn honked behind me, and I gasped, jumping a million feet in the air and spinning around to see what was behind me.

My heart turned to ice.   It was a clown, wearing the creepiest make-up you could imagine, and carrying a bike horn in one hand and a huge chainsaw in the other.   What made the whole image even worse was that I recognized this clown.   He had performed at my son's birthday party in the park, and I had left before I had gotten a chance to pay him.

He smiled at me, tilting his head and letting out a bloodcurdling, shrieking bark of laughter.   Then, he said, in that horrible, high pitched voice,

"Michellle!   You really should have paid me, Michelle!"

He turned on the chainsaw, madly widening his eyes, his mouth stretching to an impossibly wide, ravenous grin, as though he was going to swallow me whole.   He started walking toward me, bouncing from foot to foot, like clowns like to do.   I scrambled backward in horror, and tripped over the boom box, breaking through the caution tape and falling into the darkened shaft.   As I fell, I saw him above me, his cackles audible even above the chainsaw.   My last thought as I watched him slowly fade into the distance, before I hit the bottom of the shaft, was one of deep regret.   Damn, I really should have paid him.