The Everyday Life of Gray and Bayla
People flew out of the mimes way as she sprinted into the tenement section of the city. They hardly batted an eyelash a clown on a unicycle came barreling after her, just minutes behind; though that didnt stop them from giving her an even wider berth. Though it was drenched in familiarity, the explosions that rocked them soon afterwards sent a shiver up their spines and throughout their bodies. Deep down they knew they shouldnt have been surprised. This had been happening for far too long to be, but they were. Every day it was the same thing; a crazed clown on a unicycle chasing a poor, confused mime. In their hearts they wished that the madness would stop for both themselves and the mime, but they knew it was wasted hope. It would continue like this, every day, as it had for the last three years.
The aforementioned mime was currently running for her lifeagainas a hellhound chased her through the bowels of Satans sanctuary. Though this wasnt actually the case, it was a pretty good comparison from the mimes point of view. For her, Gray, this whole situation was nothing short of Hell. It was nothing short of outright torture. Shed get up, dress in her trademark gray and whites, whiten her face, and just as she was walking out the door, that insane clown was rounding the corner with an explosive in her hand! For mere reference, Gray noted that the clown, Bayla, as she had so written in blood on Grays door once, favored Molotov Cocktails.
Speaking of which
Gray dared to look behind her, and to her horror, that red nosed nutcase was not three feet behind her with a lit cocktail in hand! With a half deranged, half playful smile, Bayla hurled the cocktail. It flew through the air
completely overshot Gray
and landed right on the hood of a car
The petrol and vapor ignited, and being that it landed on the hood of a car, caused an even bigger explosion due to all the oil, gas and machinery. The concussive force threw Gray back onto the ground and she skinned her palms under her gloves from the pressure of the street.
Half too dedicated to her profession, and half too scared to do anything else, Gray didnt even cry out as Bayla wheeled toward her. She could tell by the deep, erratic breathing how tired the clown really was. Not wanting to see her own demise, Gray closed her eyes and held her breath, praying that the clown only relished mental torture. The creak of the unicycle paused and the mime tensed all of her muscles, unwilling to give the evil clown the satisfaction of hearing her scream; the irony of that statement didnt escape Gray. To her surprise, nothing came. No shrapnel from the car digging into her guts, no being run over by the unicycle, hell, she wasnt even so much as lit up with a cocktail. What did come however, was what she least expected.
The clown gave a deep sigh and ran a hand through her long, fiery red hair. Every day I try to kill you with all my might and enjoyment, waiting for your death. But at the same time, I cant help but fantasize about how awesome itd be if you fought back and kick my ass. The clown, whose voice was low and femininely deep, cackled a bit. Here, let me help you up.
With no time to scramble away, Gray was lifted with inhuman strength onto the lap of her torturer. She instantly went into a state of shock. What was happening?! Why wasnt she dead?! For years this twisted version of a childs entertainment had tortured her to no end. Gray had never intended to be within a blocks distance from this creature, and now she was sitting in her lap!
And balanced on a unicycle no less
An unlit cocktail was shoved into her cheek and forced her to look into Baylas red eyes. Heres the score, babe, the crazed clown said. I think youre fun. Youve put up a good chase over the years, plus I like that little mime thing youve got going on. Be a shame to see it end. Ya dig?
Gray nodded fearfully. The clown continued. Good, now heres my proposition: You can either die here by way of my infamous cocktails
or you can run away to the circus and join up with me and the rest of the gang. That way, I can play with you for days on end!
Bayla chuckled at the mimes horrified expression. Dont worry! Im not gonna make you a prisoner or anything. If you can escape from the circus and stay away for one day, youre home free. Youll never have to worry about me again! So whatll it be? The flames or the circus? Either grab the bottle to burn, or squeeze my nose to live and get a chance at later freedom. Bayla pulled a lighter from her breast pocket and lit it dangerously close to the rag.
Grays mind was a swirl. This was nuts! This was her chance to live! What if it was a lie?! What if she was telling the truth? What should she do? What else could she do?
With trembling fingers, Gray reached up and squeezed Baylas red clown nose. The squeak scared her.
Bayla grinned, and seconds later, the evil clown and the petrified mime rode out of the tenements to the crazed fate that awaited at the Circus.