Laughing Jack Rewrite

## Laughing Jack Rewrite by Doros70

(Laughing Jack was created by SnuffBomb)

**The Origin of Laughing Jack**

It was Christmas Eve in the late 1800s. In a small home in London, a seven-year-old boy named Isaac looked out the window into the night. He could see families celebrating together through the windows of the homes around him, singing as they waited in anticipation for Christmas morning to come.

In young Isaac's home, though, there was no singing. No warmth. And no celebrating. There was just silence; a silence that was occasionally broken by his mother's loud voice calling for him to do some chore.

That is, until inevitably, Isaac's father came home.

He could always tell it was him by the heavy footsteps that followed the front door opening. His father wavered and stumbled as he threw off his heavy overcoat and lurched towards a chair or straight to bed.

Sometimes, he could hear his mother yelling at his father, blaming him for spending their meager income on alcohol and other vices. He'd hear his father's booming response, and the fighting would start. In the morning, Isaac would exit his room to join his mother for breakfast and discover her with a black eye or some other fresh bruise.

That night, he stared out at the other homes, saying goodbye to the warm singing of Christmas tunes from the families inside. Isaac retreated to his bed, covering himself with a threadbare blanket and surrendering to sleep.

Shortly after sunrise, Isaac was awoken by a strange sensation. Rubbing his eyes, Isaac found a large, garishly colored box sitting on his bedroom floor. This wasn't like any gift Isaac had ever received. His possessions were all worn and shabby. Some were hand-me-downs from local churches and poor shops, and others were just toys he found abandoned on the street or washed up in the gutters. His toys' paint faded from long years of neglect.

No, this box was covered in fresh, bright paint and adorned with silly clown faces. The wood was perfectly sanded and expertly joined together, with only a thin seam revealing the lid on top with a small metal crank on one side. Attached to the lid was a simple paper tag on which was written Isaac's name.

As he examined the box, he noticed a small metal panel underneath: Laughing-Jack-In-A-Box. Isaac was confused, he'd heard of Jack-in-the-boxes, but he'd never heard of a Laughing-Jack-In-A-Box. Curious, Isaac began to turn the metal crank and heard the gears turning from within.

As the gears turned, a slow melody began to build, taking shape as Isaac sped up his cranking. Isaac recognized this tune. It was "Pop Goes the Weasel!" He giddily began to hum along and spoke the final verse.

"Pop! Goes the weasel!"

Isaac giggled along to his singing and winced as he finished the final verse, tensing his body for the expected Jack inside the box to come springing out!

...But as the song ended and Isaac stopped cranking, nothing happened.

"It's broken..."

Sighing, Isaac put the box back down.

As he was about to open the door, Isaac was suddenly startled by a rattling noise coming from within the box. With his eyes widened in surprise, Isaac stared as the box began to shake violently.

Suddenly, the box's top burst open with a puff of colorful smoke and an explosion of confetti. From the smoke, a figure hopped out and bent at the waist into an exaggerated bow in front of Isaac.

Isaac rubbed his eyes in disbelief at what he was seeing. As the smoke cleared, there stood a tall, thin, multicolored clown man, with bright red hair, a swirly, rainbow-colored cone nose, and feathery shoulders that sat atop his raggedy and colorful clown outfit. The foppish clown held his exaggerated bow before Isaac before snapping back up and spreading his arms wide.

"Come one, come all! Whether big or small! To see the best clown of them all! The one, the only, Laughing Jack-in-a-box!"

Isaac's eyes went wide with awe, "Who- who are you?!"

"Why, I'm your new best friend, Isaac! I'm Laughing Jack, the greatest clown to ever exist! And you and I are going to be great friends for the rest of your life!"

"We can... play together?" Isaac asked meekly. He'd never had a friend and barely left his room out of fear of his parents... but this was different.

"Play?! Oh, we can do more than play! I know every game in the world, even the ones that haven't been invented yet! I'm a whiz at the accordion and know every song that's ever been sung!"

With a puff of colored smoke, an oversized accordion appeared in the clown's arms and he began to play the instrument, albeit very, very poorly. His singing voice wasn't much better, but Isaac couldn't help but fall over in laughter.

But then, the fun and games came to an end as Isaac's mother called out for him.

"Isaac! Get down here, now!"

Isaac's smile faded to a look of disappointment and sighed before looking up at the clown.

"I... I can't. I have to go downstairs to see mother for chores... Maybe though, I could see you again tonight?" Isaac asked.

Laughing Jack smiled at Isaac, pinching him on the cheek.

"You can see me tonight and every day from now on. We'll be best pals forever."

Smiling, Isaac hurried out of his room as his mother's voice again rang out, this time louder and angrier.

That night, Laughing Jack was true to his word, waiting for Isaac as he returned. Isaac and Jack played together every chance they could. And no matter how loud they got, Jack's magic kept Isaac's parents from hearing.

One day, unable to hold it in any longer, Isaac finally told his mother about his new magical friend, but she just shushed him.

"Such things are fantasies, child, and you ought to keep such nonsense to yourself!"

Isaac was crestfallen, but as the afternoon neared, he couldn't help himself and pleaded with his mother to come meet Jack. Relenting, she followed Isaac to his room. She opened the door and discovered... nothing. No Jack, and no wonderfully colored wooden box either.

"B-but mother...he was--"

Before he could finish, Isaac's mother gave him a swift smack across the face. The sudden pain made Isaac tear up, but he didn't cry, knowing that his mother would get angrier.

"You stupid, insolent brat!" she yelled. "You think I would ever believe such rubbish?! For wasting my time, you are to stay in your room without supper! What do you have to say for yourself, you miserable wretch?"

"T-thank you, ma'am," the boy muttered after managing to swallow the knot in his throat.

His mother glared down at him for a moment before angrily leaving the room. The door slammed behind her, leaving a dejected Isaac alone in his room. Isaac kneeled over, burying his face in the side of his bed.

"...I'm sorry, boy."

Isaac turned to see Jack right next to him.

"Wh-where were you?" Isaac murmured.

"I'm not supposed to let anyone else see me, just you," Jack said as he ran his hand through Isaac's hair. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you--"

But Jack's words were cut off as Isaac threw himself on the clown, wrapping his arms around him. As a giant smile spread across his clown face, Jack hugged his best friend back, holding him tightly as hot tears streamed down Isaac's cheeks.

"I'll make it up to you! Because tonight we can play games and have tons of fun!" Jack continued, smiling.

Isaac looked up at his vibrant pal and silently nodded as a little smile began to form in the corners of his mouth.

That night, Laughing Jack and Isaac played countless fun games as the old toys moved around on their own. With a wave of his hand, Jack made a handful of delicious candy appear in his palm. Isaac was in ecstasy when he popped the first colorful treat in his mouth, as it was his first time tasting something so sweet.

As the days went by, Laughing Jack and Isaac started telling each other stories about themselves. Isaac asked Jack if he was a ghost, but the clown explained that he came from somewhere far away, where lonely children from all over the world play together endlessly. Jack said that one day, he would take Isaac there.

The two got along so well that Isaac trusted the clown's every word. Things seemed to be finally looking up... until they changed three months later.

...

It was pleasantly warm and sunny in London that day, which was a bit of a rarity. So, with Jack's help, Isaac was able to finish his chores early and was allowed to go outside and play for a bit. Things started simple and well enough. The two were behind the house playing pirates until Isaac spotted the neighbor's cat sneaking into their garden.

"Ahoy, matey, we got ourselves an enemy spy off the starboard bow!" Jack called out. "Snatch 'em up, First Mate Isaac, or I'll make ye walk the plank!"

"Aye, aye, Capn', I'll pluck yonder bilge rat right outta tha' water!"

And with Jack's help, Isaac was able to reach out and snatch up the terrified cat. As the two laughed and giggled, going back and forth in their pirate speech, Isaac became caught up in the game.

His hands unconsciously wrapped around the cat's throat as it struggled for dear life, tighter and tighter until finally- snap!

The small, sharp sound stunned Isaac, and he quickly retreated his arms, dropping the dead cat on the grass. Its neck was broken. Horrified, Isaac gaped at the dead creature. There was hush silence as the two observed the cat's now twisted, mangled corpse. The silence was finally broken by a burst of uproarious laughter...coming from Jack.

Jack's cheeks flushed red as he laughed at the dead cat.

"Looks like cats really don't have nine lives!"

Nervously, Isaac began to chuckle as well. But then, he thought about something that made him anxious. He knew he'd be in big trouble if his parents saw the cat dead in the garden. Without thinking rationally, Isaac nervously grabbed the cat and flung it over the fence and into the neighbor's yard. Strangely, Jack seemed disappointed to see the cat's corpse gone so soon. They retreated to Isaac's room and neither of them said anything about what happened.

That evening, however, Isaac's father's booming voice called him from his room. Isaac did not say a word when he heard his name, but Jack did nothing but grin and giggle softly. Finally, Isaac crept down the stairs alone to face whatever terrible punishment his father had in store for him

As expected, the cat had been discovered and Isaac was blamed. The boy tried to defend himself but to no avail.

His father said that he would send him off to a factory where he would stay until he was old enough to move on his own. His father claimed it was to discipline Isaac, but he knew the truth- his father hated him and always wanted him gone. If his mother had objections, she hadn't voiced them.

After what seemed like forever, Isaac shuffled back into the room, closing the door behind him. When he looked around the room, he was confused. Jack was nowhere to be seen. He called out to him several times, but there was no answer. There wasn't a single sign that he was ever there. No confetti, no candy, no moving toys, and no joy.

Were all those months just a lie? Was his only friend truly imaginary? After a while, he realized that those questions wouldn't matter for long.

Tearfully, Isaac bid his home goodbye, then went far away, where a new chapter in his life would begin.

...

The weeks soon turned to months. And into years. As Isaac grew older and the century drew to a close, his innocence slowly disappeared. As he was exposed to the unpleasantness of the world, the once friendly, curious child turned into a cynical, grim man. The memories of his happy times with Laughing Jack seemed more like vague dreams than reality.

Isaac slowly forgot about Jack, dismissing him as some sort of early childhood fabrication. Since it was his childlike imagination that got him into trouble, he despised anything childish. He learned in a misguided way to mature and never look back.

Eventually, Isaac managed to leave the factory behind and find a more bearable job. He became an upholsterer, doing furniture repairs for the good people of London.

...

Thirteen years passed until the night Isaac's father came home particularly drunk and got into an argument with his wife, as per usual. Things escalated to physical violence once again. This time, however, she didn't get back up. Isaac's father had beaten his wife to a dead, bloody pulp, and soon enough, the constable found out. He was sent to hang at the gallows not long afterward.

With both his parents dead, the now twenty-year-old Isaac inherited the dusty old house where he had spent the earlier half of his childhood. With his own place to stay, Isaac continued his routine of working and going out for drinks at the end of his shift.

One night, a drunken Isaac returned home and stumbled up the stairs to his room, but this time, he had someone with him. It was a lady Isaac had picked up at the bar. She was beautiful, with flowing blonde hair, blue eyes, and a smile that could melt hearts. The two sat down on the bed and chatted about life in London. Isaac made a joke about the weather and they both laughed.

Isaac and the girl looked deeply into each other's eyes as they leaned in for a kiss. As the kissing grew more intense, Isaac ran his hand along the girl's smooth thigh and up her dress. However, she brushed his hand away. Isaac was persistent, though, and once again ran his hand along her smooth thigh and up her dress, this time placing his hand upon her undergarments.

The woman took great displeasure with Isaac and pushed him away before delivering a hard smack across his face. Isaac's eyes darkened as he glared at the woman. The woman's heart stopped as she saw Isaac's face boil with fury.

"You STUPID whore!" Isaac yelled as he smashed his fist into the girl's face.

Isaac firmly clutched the girl's wrist with one hand. The terrified girl tried to fight back, but Isaac was overpowering her. He savagely grabbed her hair and forced his tongue down the woman's throat, who responded by chomping down on his tongue. Isaac recoiled in pain and released her. He clutched his mouth and cursed as it filled with blood.

The frightened girl fell off the bed and dropped down on the floor as she scurried toward the exit. Isaac quickly lurched forward and was able to catch her by the end of her dress. Reaching back, he grabbed a lead candlestick off the nightstand beside him and bashed the back of the young woman's head in with all of his might, bursting it open.

Thick blood splattered on the floor as the girl's body convulsed on the ground for a moment. After that, she went completely still.

As the adrenaline mellowed, Isaac realized what he had done. If it had happened sooner, he would have been horrified and remorseful. But now? He didn't feel a shred of regret or sympathy. As he wrestled with his own thoughts, his mind kept telling him, "It doesn't matter. Get rid of her."

He picked up the girl's corpse and plopped it on the bed. He then left the room and closed the door before leaving the house. He returned almost a full day later and re-entered the room, bringing in a metal garbage can and his bag of upholstery tools from work.

He then cleared everything off the wooden desk on the wall opposite the door and dragged the bed with the bloody corpse to the middle of the room. Once it was all set up, he got to work.

For the next three days, Isaac crafted the once human anatomy into a grotesque abomination. He used his skills as an upholsterer to fashion the young woman's remains into a small leather chair. Her skin was turned into leather, stretched over a frame made from her own bones. Everything else that remained of her was dissolved in caustic chemicals and poured into the sewer to be washed away.

Isaac was quite pleased with his work. After that night, Isaac never touched another drop of alcohol again, for he now possessed a much more macabre thirst.

In the following weeks, Isaac made several improvements to his little workshop of horrors. He removed the mattress from the bed and put a row of thick wooden planks in its place, and then he fastened arm and leg restraints to the bottom and sides. This would mean he could entertain his guests without them trying any escape attempts.

Isaac needed only one final thing before planning another grotesque party. He worked on it for a week straight, carving it out of wood. After a coat of white paint was applied, Isaac's creation was complete. It was a wooden mask resembling something one would wear at a Venetian masquerade ball. It had a furrowed brow and a long troll-like nose.

With his new face complete and the room transformed into a bloody murder nest, it was finally time for Isaac Lee Grossman to bring home a few new playmates.

As the weeks went by, more and more unlucky souls met their end in Isaac Grossman's attic, and his macabre collection of human furniture grew. Sometimes it was rude children who had been nasty to him in public, abducted and dragged to Isaac's torture chamber in a large burlap sack. Other times it was ladies of the night whom he paid for their services only to end up as another piece in Isaac's collection. He got risky a few times and kidnapped some of his neighbors who thought they could look at him funny and get away with it.

With each victim, the mad Grossman's personality became darker and more sadistic... until one very cold December night.

...

The rusty nails holding up a shelf of forgotten knick-knacks finally gave way and the whole thing plummeted to the floor. Isaac heard the loud thud from downstairs and climbed up to the attic to investigate.

Isaac entered the room, eyeing the collapsed frame with a sigh. As he picked up the razors and other torture instruments, his hands stopped upon discovering something familiar. A small wooden box. Not just any box. It was the music box from his childhood.

He barely recognized it, but after a moment, a few vague memories came back to him. His rough, calloused hands worked over the forgotten box, its bright colors faded with age, wooden panels warped with neglect.

The hand crank was still there, though. And without even thinking, Isaac began to turn it for the first time in years.

That familiar song began to play, though distorted. The once delicate gears inside were now rusted and worn. Isaac couldn't help but hum along once more, though slow and matching the tortured, labored melody. As the song reached its climax, he muttered the final verse.

"Pop. Goes the weasel..."

The top of the box swung open, but nothing happened. It was empty. Isaac expected as much. He tossed the old box in the garbage with the other broken knick-knacks. After the mess was cleaned up, he went to open the door to go back downstairs, but stopped himself when he heard the most horrible, raspy voice call out from behind him.

"Iiiiiiisaaaaaaaac..."

A deathly chill up Isaac's spine as he slowly turned to see where the voice came from.

With eyes wide in disbelief, Isaac saw a familiar, tall figure across the room. Laughing Jack. Still tall, still colorful as ever, and just as peppy. The clown looked around the room at the blood-stained floor and the torture implements, but he didn't seem confused or worried.

"It has been a while. And I see you have been busy. Did you miss me, boy?" Laughing Jack said, his voice was clear, friendly, and upbeat.

Isaac was in shock at what he was seeing. Suddenly, all the memories returned at once, but all they did was confuse Isaac further.

"B-but... I thought you weren't real! You were just... imaginary!" he stammered. Jack chuckled at that special word.

The clown spoke again, but as he did, his colorful appearance got duller and duller. And his smile got wider and more twisted by the second.

"Oh, how wrong you were. After our last game, I've been all over London, making new friends with lonely children like you. I brought all of them to a faraway place where they can play endlessly. Have I told you about that place? Now that you called me back here, I chose to finally take you there and play with you... One. Last. Time!"

As he finished, Laughing Jack's appearance changed completely. His colors faded entirely, finally revealing his true self. A horribly twisted creature the likes of which Isaac had never seen.

The clown's fiery red hair was pitch black now, mangled into twisted locks. His friendly smile curled into a twisted grin decorated with jagged teeth. His arms hung down like a ragdoll with his grotesquely long fingers nearly scraping the floor. The outrageous colors and makeup were faded and monochrome, and his tanned skin turned ghostly pale.

Isaac slowly backed away as Laughing Jack let out a raspy cackle. The clown reached out and stretched his arms toward the scared man. Isaac quickly turned around, ran out of the attic, and sprinted down the stairs, nearly tripping halfway. His eyes finally met the door leading outside and did not waste a second before running out.

Once he opened the door and stepped outside... he just stopped.

He expected to be outside the house and on the street... but when he looked around, he noticed that he was somewhere else. Much to his horror and confusion, Isaac found himself at a carnival. The sky was a dull gray, the tents and game huts were black and white, and he saw huge constructions that he had never seen before in his life.

Isaac had no idea where he was, but he knew for sure he shouldn't have been there. He turned around to go back into the house, but he noticed that the door he came through was gone. He was trapped and had no idea where he was.

He ran around the carnival to find the exit, but the place never seemed to end. Everywhere he looked, he would see another tent or another giant wheel. Then he heard Laughing Jack's voice echo throughout the park, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Attention, children! We have a new playmate! Show him how much fun you'll have when you tear him apart and put him back together!"

Isaac looked back uncertainly, and after a few moments, he felt the ground shake slightly beneath his boots. Seconds later, he found the cause of the slight rumble.

In the distance, he saw dozens upon dozens of small figures running toward him. After a while, he could hear them giggling, screeching, and laughing. He knew those children were not normal; they were all pale and dead-like, but alive and overwhelming. They were all grinning at him hungrily, showing their rotting, crooked teeth.

From beneath the mask, Isaac's expression turned from confusion to horror when he saw their twisted smiles. He turned again and ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

He ran throughout the entire amusement park without so much as looking back. He tried to explain to himself how he could see those things...but only one answer came to mind.

"This... this is impossible. It's a dream... Just a bad dream... Yes, everything is an awful nightmare. That's it."

Isaac ran without stopping for what felt like hours... or perhaps days. As he was seeing the same circus tents over and over, Isaac's fear turned into frustration. That frustration soon turned into exhaustion. And the exhaustion slowly turned into lunacy. Isaac started to lose whatever grip on sanity he had left.

The crowd of monstrous children had disappeared long ago, but that didn't stop him from running as if his life depended on it.

Finally, he dropped to his knees and looked down at his hands. At first, he cried in despair... but after a few moments, he giggled, and the giggle turned into a deranged cackle.

"Someone... please, wake me up..."

He continued to laugh, ignoring everything around him. He didn't notice the tents, he didn't notice the stuffed animals inside the huts facing him... And he didn't notice Laughing Jack's stretched hand wrapped around his foot.

Even as he was dragged through the air, Isaac continued to laugh. He was then brought closer and closer to the clown. Laughing Jack looked at the manic man in his grasp, finding the new state of mind very amusing. But even Jack knew that all good things had to end.

"You've been asking for this."

The snake-like arms wrapped tighter and tighter around Isaac. A series of audible pops rang out as Isaac's ribs and other bones snapped one by one under pressure. Even though Isaac was in extreme pain, he continued cackling as if trying to drown out the cracking bones. Finally, Laughing Jack let go, and Isaac's body crumbled to the floor. Ragged, hoarse breaths came from Isaac, his body broken but still alive.

With a wicked grin spreading across Laughing Jack's lips, he stepped forward to the broken man. He grabbed him by the face and pulled him close, looking down at him.

"Just... kill me," Isaac croaked through his broken neck.

"Hehe. Alright. Our time together is nearly up anyway. It's been a blast, my boy. I'm actually going to miss you."

Laughing Jack lowered his head toward Isaac's face and stretched his mouth open wide. Within seconds, a torrent of filthy cockroach-like insects started crawling out of the clown's gullet, spilling onto Isaac. Each vile insect crawled and gnawed at his skin bit by bit before pushing its way into the opening, filling the body from within.

As his body became filled with bugs, Isaac gurgled when he tried to scream. Laughing Jack finally put him down on the ground. Isaac struggled to breathe through the broken ribs and his chest full of bugs. He looked up to see an open door leading straight to his old room. The moment he saw it, Isaac dragged himself toward it, not noticing how Laughing Jack smiled at him and waved goodbye.

Each movement caused him agonizing pain as he pushed himself forward. He struggled for what felt like an eternity, but eventually, he reached the door frame and collapsed on the floor.

After watching Isaac succumb to exhaustion and pain, Laughing Jack let out a loud, maniacal cackle, which was interrupted when the door closed by itself. The silence was never more deafening.

As his life faded on the cold wooden floor, Isaac's life flashed before his eyes. He saw his mother, his father, the factory, his victims... and the last thought he ever had was of that very special Christmas Eve. When he woke up to find the beautifully hand-carved wooden box that contained his very first friend.

...

It's rumored that when the police finally found Isaac Grossman's corpse weeks later on Christmas Eve, even though his face was maggot infested and torn to bits... he almost looked... happy.

**An Encounter with Laughing Jack**

I have a lot to say, and I don't have much time. No, I'm not being chased by anyone or anything. I'm just not allowed to use a computer for very long. I wasn't the first, and I won't be the last to have such a horrible experience, but I noticed that no one had the courage to speak up... until now.

My name is Stephanie, I'm 38 years old and I'm a member of a single-parent family - I am the parent, obviously. My ex-husband and I had a son, James, but when the latter turned two years old, I filed for a divorce when I found out that my husband's been cheating on me...and not with a woman. I had to raise James by myself for three years.

James has always been a quiet boy. He played mostly by himself and never had many friends, but he always had a wild imagination.

I was in the kitchen talking on the phone when I heard what sounded like James talking to someone in the backyard. I wasn't sure who he was talking to. Could he have finally made a friend? It was hard for me to always keep an eye on my son, being a single mother and all, so I decided to go outside and check on him.

When I went into the backyard, I was a bit confused because James was the only person back there. Was he talking to himself? I could've sworn I heard another voice.

"James! It's time to come inside," I called out to him. He came inside and sat down at the kitchen table. It was about lunchtime, so I decided to make him a turkey sandwich.

"James. Who were you talking to out there?" I asked. James looked up for a moment.

"I was playing with my new friend," he said smiling. I poured him some milk and continued to pry.

"Does your friend have a name? Why didn't you ask him to have lunch with us?" I asked. James stared at me for a moment.

"His name is Laughing Jack!"

I was a bit taken aback by what he said.

"Oh? That's a strange name. What does your friend look like?" I asked a bit confused.

"He's a clown. He has long hair and a big swirly cone nose. He's got long arms and baggy pants with stripy socks, and he always smiles."

I assumed that my son was talking about an imaginary friend. I suppose it is normal for kids his age to have imaginary friends, especially when he had no real friends to play with. I thought that it was just a phase and that he'd grow out of it eventually.

The rest of the day went by like usual, and it was starting to get late, so I put James to bed. I tucked him in, gave him a kiss, and made sure to turn on his nightlight before I closed the door. I was pretty tired myself, so I decided to go to bed as well.

That night, I had an awful nightmare. I still remember it to this day.

It was dark. I was in some kind of rundown amusement park. I was scared, running through an endless field of empty tents, broken-down rides, and abandoned game huts. The whole place had a horrible look to it. Everything was black and white, the prize stuffed animals all hung from nooses in the game huts, all with sick grins stitched on their faces. It felt like the whole park was looking at me, even though there wasn't another living thing in sight.

Suddenly, I began to hear music playing. The sound of Pop Goes the Weasel being played on an accordion echoed through the park. It was hypnotizing, to say the least.

I followed the tune to a huge circus tent almost in a trance, unable to stop my legs from moving forward. It was pitch black, and the only light came from a single spotlight shining on the center of the big top. As I walked towards the light, the music slowed down, and I found myself singing along, unable to stop.

"All around the mulberry bush

The monkey chased the weasel

The monkey thought 'twas all in fun..."

The music stopped right before its climax, and suddenly the lights shot on. The intensity of the lights was practically blinding. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw a small dark silhouette shuffle towards me. Then another one appeared, then another, and another, and another. There were dozens of them, all coming toward me. I couldn't move, my legs were frozen, and all I could do was watch as the haunting figures drew nearer. As they got closer, I could see what they were... they were children!

As I looked at each one, I noticed they were all pale, and they were all looking at me without even blinking; and their faces showed no emotion whatsoever.

I was so nervous. I tried to ask them with a smile on my face if they needed any help, but I only managed to stutter. Just as I thought of a good way to start a conversation, the children smiled in unison and giggled, revealing their sharp, crooked teeth. They enveloped me, dragged me to the ground, and scratched me until I bled.

As the children tore me apart and I faded away, all I could hear was a horrible, awful, and evil laughter.

I woke up the next morning in a cold sweat. After taking a few deep breaths, I looked over and saw that a few of James' action figures were facing me on the top of my nightstand. I sighed and thought that James had woken up early and put them there.

I gathered up the toys and made my way to James' room. However, when I opened the door, James was sound asleep. I shrugged, put the toys back in his toy box, and headed out to the living room. An hour later, James walked into the kitchen and I made breakfast for him. He was quiet and seemed a bit groggy; perhaps he didn't sleep well either. I decided to ask him about the toys.

"James honey, did you put the toys in mommy's room this morning?"

His eyes shot up at me for a moment then quickly glanced back down at his cereal.

"Laughing Jack did it."

I rolled my eyes and responded,

"Well, you tell 'Laughing Jack' to keep the toys in your room."

James nodded and finished up his breakfast, then decided to go play out in the backyard.

I went to relax in the living room, and I must've dozed off because I woke up a couple of hours later.

"Crap! I need to check on James!"

I started to get worried, it had been over two hours and I didn't check on him. I stepped out into the backyard, but James wasn't there anymore. I was very nervous, so I called out to him.

"James! James, where are you?!" Just then, I heard a giggle coming from the front yard. I rushed through the gate around to the front of the house. James was sitting on the sidewalk. I breathed a sigh of relief and walked over to him.

"James, how many times have I told you to stay in the backya... James, what are you eating?"

James looked up at me, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a hand full of hard candies in all colors. This made me very anxious.

"James, who gave you that candy?" James did not speak. He just stared at me as if he hadn't heard what I said. "James! Please, tell mommy where you got that candy."

James hung his head down and said,

"Laughing Jack gave it to me."

My heart sunk, I kneeled down to look at him in the eyes.

"Listen, James. I've had enough of this Laughing Jack thing. He is not real! Now, this is a very serious situation and I need to know who gave you the candy!"

"But mama, Laughing Jack did give me the candy!"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. James had never lied to me, but I thought that what he was telling me was impossible. I made him spit out the candy and threw the rest away. James appeared to be alright, so I thought that maybe I was just overreacting. After all, he could've gotten it from Tom and Linda from next door or Mr. Walker who lived down the street.

Either way, I decided that I had to keep a closer eye on James. That night, I put James to bed as usual. I left the room and decided to go to bed early.

At midnight, I was woken up by a loud bang coming from the kitchen. I got out of bed and hurried down the stairs, being half asleep. When I got to the kitchen, everything was dark, but I knew that something was wrong. I turned on the lights and a lot of confetti got in my face, blocking my vision. The shock woke me up, nearly giving me a heart attack. When I got the confetti out of my face, I was horrified.

Everything on the counters had been thrown to the floor, and the kitchen was decorated with intestines, like some kind of twisted and disgusting birthday party. I knew that those intestines weren't mine, so I worried they came from someone else. Upon further examining the room, I noticed that the floor was littered with candy, the same type that James was eating earlier that day.

My shock was quickly broken by a scream coming from James' room followed by loud crashes. I quickly grabbed a knife from the drawer and ran like hell up the stairs so I can save my child from whatever danger he was in. I burst through the door and flicked on the lights. Everything in the room had been knocked over and tossed to the floor. My poor son was on his bed, crying and shaking with fear; a pool of urine staining the sheets.

I scooped up my child and ran out of the house, then went next door to Tom and Linda's house. Luckily, they were still awake. They let me use their phone and I called the police. It didn't take long for them to arrive, and I explained to them what happened. I must've been agitated as I explained everything to the cops, because they gave me some strange looks.

They searched the house, but they didn't find any clues. The candy on the floor couldn't be identified and the intestines from the kitchen had to go under analysis, which could take days, maybe weeks. The officer told me that a burglar had probably gotten in the house and done this right before making a quick escape when they heard me coming up the stairs. I knew that wasn't true. All the doors were locked and none of the windows were open. Whatever was in my house didn't come from outside.

I didn't want to go back inside my house, but I didn't want to sleep on the street either. Luckily, Mr. Walker was nearby and heard the whole thing. He was nice enough to offer us a place in his house until the authorities could install some security measures. He lived alone as well, so he had an extra bedroom. I thanked him plenty, but he told me that it was no big deal.

I began to have doubts about James' friend being imaginary. Imaginary friend or not, I wasn't going to let it hurt my kid.

I looked through Walker's garage for anything I could use for defense. I found Mr. Walker's old baseball bat. I asked him if I could have it close by, and he told me that it was okay since he didn't use it anymore.

When night came, James and I went to the bedroom that Mr. Walker had offered us. He was afraid, but I promised him that I wasn't going to let anything happen to him. I tried to stay up for as long as I could, but after a few hours, I drifted off. My baby would be safe for the night and I needed to rest. Just as I lay my head on the pillow, I fell asleep.

...I was woken up by the soft sounds of jingling bells. As I opened my eyes, I saw a silhouette standing next to the bed. At first, I thought that I was dreaming, but then I realized I was awake.

I swiftly took the bat and turned on the light on the nightstand. That's when I saw the fiend responsible for all this horror. Laughing Jack.

His matted black hair hung down to his shoulders. He had piercing white eyes surrounded by dark black rings. His twisted smile revealed a row of sharp, jagged teeth; and his ghost-white skin didn't look like skin at all, it almost looked like rubber or plastic. He wore a patchy black and white clown outfit with striped sleeves and socks. The body itself was grotesque. He was much taller than me, and his long arms were nearly touching the floor. The way he was poised made him look almost boneless, like a ragdoll.

He looked surprised to see me, but he flashed a smile at me a second later. I had to choke back the vomit while James was crying.

"Oh, hello there!" he said in a playful yet very unpleasant voice. "You're here just in time for a special playdate!"

He then began to frolic around the room while his long arms dangled from left to right and giggled, almost dancing. I was so furious that I hit him in the head with the bat with all my might. I expected to see him fall to the ground, but that didn't end up happening.

When I hit him, his head detached itself from the body, but I noticed that they were still connected via a coil spring like a jack-in-the-box.

I almost lost it when his head moved around and cackled while his long tongue slipped through his lips. I was baffled and speechless. When he stopped, he rearranged his head and stood still. He looked at me and grinned.

"If you wanna play like that..." He ran at the door which led to the hallway and popped it open. "Let's go somewhere bigger!!"

He ran out and vanished into the darkness. I wasn't going to let him get away after what he did to James, so I bared my teeth and ran after him.

"Get back here!"

I walked through the door, and then... dropped my bat in confusion. The place I was in wasn't the hallway. It was the same amusement park from my dream. It was still desolated and lifeless.

I turned around and I noticed that the door I walked through was gone. After that, I ran through the endless park looking for the door. I didn't want to spend another second in that place. While I ran, I heard the music from my dream, echoing through the park.

I turned my head and noticed the same large circus tent from my dream. The tune continued, but this time, I wasn't hypnotized by it.

I walked over to the tent furiously, hoping to get an explanation. When I got inside, the lights shot on once again. But this time, the lights only revealed a stage.

I heard the laugh echo around me, and a few seconds later, a thick puff of black smoke appeared on the stage, and from it emerged that miserable clown. He gave me an exaggerated bow while maintaining that stupid grin. He stood straight and looked at me.

"You look so upset and confused, Stephanie...how adorable. What's that? You want answers? Alright. But first, we have to play a little."

He snapped his fingers and many other lights turned on, revealing the rest of the tent. I saw the monstrous children sitting around the circle on their seats, forming a dense crowd. I looked around and I saw the children giggle and snarl at me like rabid animals.

I turned my look over to Laughing Jack and saw him look at the crowd with his long arms raised.

"Welcome, boys and girls! Thank you for waiting! Today we will play tag! She is it... The game will begin at my signal!"

Laughing Jack looked at me again and gave me a smug smile as he explained the game.

"The door you're looking for is somewhere around the park. All you have to do is find it before the kiddies catch you and tear you limb from limb. You don't want that to happen again, do you?"

I gulped as I remembered what those children did to me in my dream. Now that I was fully awake, I knew that I wouldn't wake up in my bed this time. The clown continued.

"And to make it fair, I'll give you a head start. Now... start running."

Hearing that last sentence made me panic so badly that I didn't waste a second before I got out of the tent. Laughing Jack started to count down slowly, his raspy voice echoed throughout the entire park.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!"

Once I got out, I looked around for a place to run, but I had no idea where the door was supposed to be.

"Seven! Six!"

I chose a random direction and ran faster than I ever did before in my life.

"Five... Four..."

Jack's counting slowed down, which gave me enough time to run behind all those rows of game huts.

"Three... Two... One... GAME ON!!!"

With that said, I could hear countless footsteps, laughs and growls getting louder and louder with each second. I had no idea where I was going or where I could hide. On my way, I noticed that some game huts, carousels and tents looked exactly the same. So I was either running in circles the whole time, or I was starting to lose it.

After I ran for what felt like hours, I finally saw the door. It was standing near a Ferris wheel. I wanted to put my hand on the knob the moment I saw it, but the children were not far behind. I could hear them clearer than ever. I bolted immediately, and I finally opened the door.

...But when I slammed the door behind me, everything was pitch-black. I thought I'd been tricked. I was so furious that I wanted to scream curses at the clown... but Jack wasn't finished with me yet.

I heard him giggle, and I saw something flash in the darkness. I saw Jack standing next to a little girl.

"This is what I do."

What he did to her was horrible and incomprehensible to me... When I saw the blood dripping from his claws, I thought I was going to vomit, but he wasn't done.

I saw many other images flash before my eyes... and saw so many children suffer in so many ways... there were countless. Worst of all, Jack was smirking and grinning with delight as he did those horrible things. He let out a sickening laugh as if to let me know he was pleased with my reaction.

Eventually, when my brain couldn't handle those horrible sights anymore...the flashing just stopped. I stood in silence for a moment, but Laughing Jack appeared before me once again.

"You shouldn't have taken your eyes off that little scamp of yours..."

When I looked up, I saw James being held by the wrist above the ground, screaming for help. Laughing Jack looked at me and cackled louder. I wasn't afraid anymore; I was utterly furious as the laughter filled my ears.

I still don't know why he did those things. Maybe he was just crazy, maybe killing those children served a higher purpose and he was thoroughly enjoying it. I did not care. I wanted him to shut up. I wanted to kill him.

I screamed and jumped on him, wrapping my hands around his throat. As I brought him to his knees, he flashed a smug smile at me one last time.

"Well, ta-ta!"

He snapped his fingers and some black smoke got in my eyes. I coughed and wheezed, but I continued to squeeze the neck. After the smoke cleared and I saw who I was really strangling, I immediately stopped.

In the clown's place was James. I released him immediately and he began to cough. I was sure he was about to cry. I noticed that I was back in the room, and I began to panic. I looked to the right and I saw that Mr. Walker was at the door. He probably saw everything.

"Stephanie! What are you doing?!" he asked me furiously. I stuttered.

"Wait! It's not what you think-" he cut me off.

"I'm calling the cops!"

I couldn't stop him. The police arrived and the trial was short. I told the court that a crazy clown broke into the house and tormented me and my son. But because Mr. Walker was a witness and saw me hurt my own child firsthand, no one believed me.

I lost custody of my kid. I'll never see him again. He could be in terrible danger right now and it's all my fault. The judge declared me insane, and I was sent to an asylum.

I've been here for a while now. It's not so bad in here. They even gave me limited time to write my story. The only reason I'm awake now is because someone is playing Pop Goes the Weasel outside my window.

I'll talk to the orderlies about it in the morning...