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Clown Season

Chapter Text

Theon stared at the rows and rows of costumes. Spiders hung down along cheap webs, plastic gravestones and zombies menaced in between the rows of temporary identities. The eerie soundtrack continually made him jump which set Ramsay off into wild giggles. Like hyenas, the pack following their leader would laugh and catcall.

"Hey Reek!"

He flinched every time Ramsay or his boys called him that in public.

Theon would bite his lip then rush to see what was needed of him, anything to silence that word where others hear. If someone asked if this thin, nervous teenager was part of Ramsay's gang, the group would have laughed themselves to death.

Theon knew exactly what he was, as much as the gang did.

He was Ramsay's bitch according to Skinner, Damon has referred to him as "Little Stockholm Boy", Alyn is the politest, he says Reek was Ramsay's property. Dick, Luton and Ben have assured Reek many times that he was simply Ramsay's pet. And Theon used to fight against it. He doesn't anymore, it was easier to be Reek.

But he wasn't Reek enough to stop thinking as Theon any chance that he could get away with it. Never in his wildest dreams did Theon think he would be eager for teachers in school to call upon him until now. Any time in class a professor asks Theon or Mr. Greyjoy a question he has to stop himself from leaping to answer it. 

It's the only thing that Ramsay can't control yet. But Ramsay can control Theon's growing fear and aversion to his own name. The last time Theon showed an eagerness to answer to his real name the pack of feral bullies that follow Ramsay beat the shit out of him. Bad enough that he landed in the hospital for three days. Ramsay visited him all cheerful, never mentioning it at all, except to write Reek all over the cast and countless bandages.

Ramsay began to taunt Theon with different kinds of costuming. 

"I can't decide between sexy Deadpool or sexy Thor for him. What do you think, Miss?" The boys laughed as the startled sales clerk ran away towards the props. Theon's face burned and he turned away just to lose his breath, giving a croak of terror. A garish, gigantic painted clown mask glared at him with deadly hilarity.

Theon never saw the boys all watch him stare in frozen terror at the mask. Nor did he see Damon grab a red nose and slowly come up close behind him. He did however hear the honk and everyone in the store heard his high pitched scream. Bursting into tears, Theon fled down the aisles followed by laughter.

He crashed into some sort of netting that made him flail uselessly, mindlessly, sinking into panic. Louder laughter surrounded him as much as the netting. Dizzily, Theon looked up into Ramsay's amused, sadistic eyes.

"Now, you've caused a scene and broke this netting. I'll have to buy it and anything else you crashed into. How do you think I'll repay you for that?"

 

Theon limped out of the men's room at the mall and flinched as Ramsay followed. He had taken the extra time to fix his hair while Theon recovered from the punches to his back and stomach, kicks to his thighs when he fell. The boys already had gotten food and were eating in the cafeteria. Ramsay handed him some money.

"Get our food, Reek."

Nodding, Theon shuffled over towards the counter at the burger station. Ramsay never deviated in his meal, or in Theon's. He ordered a large sized specialty burger with super sized onion rings and soda. Theon then ordered a cheeseburger children's meal with chocolate milk. He carried the tray towards the table when something flickered at the corner of his eye.

The tray nearly slid out of boneless fingers as Theon felt his bladder cramp painfully. Skinner had been chatting to a girl and luckily saw the incoming avalanche of food. He straightened the tray as he looked to see what scared this pussy so much this time.

"You are such a fucking pussy ass loser, Reek. What is it a puppy or....a mime. Hey lady mime, don't you know it ain't Halloween yet?"

Air exploded out of Reek as he quickly walked over to the table. His nerveless fingers dropped the tray with a thump that spilled onion rings onto the paper lining. Ramsay cursed and pinched Reek hard in his side, right in a very new and swollen bruise. A squeak of pain then a muttered apology.

Skinner leered at the mime. She was dressed in tight black leggings and a tight black and white striped shirt. Very traditional, her face also painted black and white. A black wig that was razor straight, shoulder length, he could not tell who this person was. Only the build let him know it was a slender female.

"Are you practicing for a show, honey? Or for a Halloween performance for tips on the street corner? I got a little money if that is what you need. Don't need to resort to penny tips, you know. Can you do contortions? Because I'd pay double for that."

The mime seemed to slowly smile at him even as her eyes stayed blank. She nodded and slowly did a ballerina spin. Then arched backwards, extending her arms until they palmed the floor. As Skinner gasped, her dead eyes fixed upon him, her smile now seemed a frown. She scuttled forward towards him fast, as if a demon intent on dinner. Or a humanoid spider visiting from another dimension to grab some fast food that mistakes Skinner for a spider.

He jumped into the air and screamed high pitched as his hands fluttered near his mouth. Skinner turned and fell over a table to sit stunned on the floor. Everyone was watching the mime and Skinner now and laughter thundered. But it was uneasy laughter, as the mime was still scuttling in her terrifying new form. She headed straight for Ramsay's table. Theon shrieked and leaped into Ramsay's lap. As she got even closer, he climbed over Ramsay in his panic.

Alyn and Damon were on their feet now, along with Ramsay. Theon has now joined Skinner on the floor. The shamed bully immediately whacks Theon and calls him a pussy to reestablish himself. The girl stops only inches before the wall of young men and slowly unfolds until she is standing straight again. There is a moment of silence, they stare and she seems to judge them. Her head cocks and tilts as she studies each one. Then a slow formed smirk and her arm stretches out slowly, almost unrolling somehow. Her hand opened and a bright pink paper folded into a wolf sat daintily upon her open white glove.

Without moving, the mime held out the paper to Ramsay and simply froze, eyes pinning him. It was a clear challenge and it was in public. Ramsay took the paper and cleared his throat uneasily. He opened the paper and scanned the page then smirked back. He made sure his voice rang out clearly.

"That was quite a fucking performance just to give me a haunted house challenge. Kudos for the effort."

The mime held up a folded poster board that none of them knew where it could have fucking come from. She unfolded it then held it over her head so all could read it. Each new impossible fold held this long sentence.

"Extreme Challenge. If the Bully Bolton, his Boys, his Dog and his Whore can make it through our haunt, it will be open and free to the public on Halloween night."

Dropping her arms the mime folded up the entire poster with a dramatic clap of her hands, it was gone. Tilting her head as if remembering something, the mime then nods. She claps again and another poster emerged.

"Do you accept?"

Theon rolled his eyes and whined while Skinner softly whispered that he hoped Ramsay fucking Bolton rotted in hell for accepting the challenge.

Chapter Text

They could have used a room at the library or anywhere at the college. It was tried and rejected. Tepid coffee and cookies while tearfully speaking won't help them. They know it because they have tried it. Of course the school would allow them counseling without question if they wished it but it was patronizing at best.

In the great state of Westeros, in the town of Winterfell and in the Kings Landing University certain things are just known. If you are a female there are certain risks you accept taking. It is quite amazing that there is very little public crime known against women there in spite of overwhelming rumors and evidence to the contrary.

When some girls tried to fight back, to report, to take a stance against this the reaction was disheartening. No one was on their side, not even their own families. One female teacher stood for them but then suffered a tragedy. She was unable to assist them further and the girls were on fire, so they took matters into their own hands.

  It took the mysterious death of Joff Lannister, the richest boy in school for the patriarchal school council to take notice. The elderly Mace Tyrell, Stannis Baratheon and Tywin Lannister, grandfather of Joff, finally took notice of the problem. An assembly was called and the entire school board stood on the stage as Tywin's eyes glared down at the student.

"This has gone too far. Though we cannot prove my grandson's death was caused by your ladies movement...I believe it was revenge. For the sickening accusations made against him, the ones that courts of law acquitted him for. It must stop here. For now on, there will be safe meeting rooms and counselors available for the young ladies of this campus. There will be student guards to escort any female on campus grounds at night fall until the dawn. No questions asked, you may utilize these comforts as you need them, young ladies. I will also be having some teachers offer their services in defense classes." 

This solved nothing and so the girls feeling alone sitting together in a useless therapy session looked to each other. 

 

Dany Targaryen sighed and aimlessly wandered the empty group therapy room. Throwing herself into a chair, she discreetly reached into her backpack. Two moments later, the woman was indulging in forbidden sweet bliss. Her head slowly went back and she moaned as her mouth filled with chocolate. Fuck her diet, it's not like there is anyone to see her figure anymore.

It will be Halloween soon and it was Drogo's favorite holiday. Shaking her head firmly, Dany counted backwards from twenty.

"Hey! See, I told you we weren't the only ones wasting our time here. Not one girl has shown tonight, not even just to roll their eyes at me. At least we tried to put something together, they don't even appreciate it."

Dany rolled her eyes and glared over at Tyrion, who was already half lit. His pal and the assistant football coach, the scruffy Bron was with him.

"Yeah, I can't imagine why they stopped showing up. Let's see...these are girls that are suffering from male assault. What they want is a patronizing lech touching them to teach them defense. Or a dwarf with a swollen head lecturing them on how the law can work against them rather than help them. And me...I told them about Drogo. They asked why I stayed so long with someone who had raped me, why I tried so hard to communicate and make it work up until he died. I tried to explain my family's culture, how different it was. I tried to justify and defend it. That is when I saw the eyes all go dead and cold. I wasn't helping them through a trauma or making them stronger. I was telling them how to endure it. And I think the three of us are sick fucks that karma will nail later on. Get ready for shingles at the least, Bron."

Tyrion slumped against a desk and grinned humorlessly.

"I'll die of syphilis as my liver explodes and my cock falls off if karma is what does me in. Listen, the three of us have worked our asses off to get this far. If we don't figuratively suck my father's cock and kiss his narrow wrinkled ass, we lose tenure."

"Well, thank you very much for making sure I need Viagra to get laid tonight. I refuse to suck Tywin Lannister's dick and that image is now seared into my fucking head. I wasn't doing this for him, I just like helping the ladies."

Dany threw her stapler at Bronn's leering face. She shoved her papers into the bag while Bron and Tyrion continued to taunt her into a better mood. It wasn't working and she stomped her way down the hall as they followed her, still laughing.

"I wonder where they all went. Wherever it is, I hope it's a place they get better help than just us."

"Aww...Dany, come on. Look, we are trying to help the best we can, yeah? What do you want me to do? Go hunt the girls down and force them to learn self defense, harassment law and then you can force them into their feelings?"

"I wish I did know what to do. I mean...hell, I grew up in way worse oppression than them. They have no idea what arranged marriages are like...but I have no idea what it's like to be drugged and wake up raped. And we all know damn right well, that is the least of the shit that goes down here. I wish I helped more with their movement, I encouraged them to take the stand and then abandoned them."

With a deep sigh, Bron and Tyrion each grabbed a delicate elbow.

"Okay, time for the bar. Listen, you can't blame yourself. You gave your all to those girls, you faced my father in so many meetings for them. But hey, you had no idea that you would have such a terrible accident!  You were dealing with your husband's death and your own injuries. They did their best on their own and after all, isn't that the point of a college? We guide and release them."

Dany nodded, blinking away tears but then she took a deep breath.

"We do..but what are we guiding and teaching them?"

They had almost made it outside the prestigious building when a looming shadow got in their way. Groaning, they all strained to look up into Gregor Clegane's ugly crater of a face.

"Did any of you see this shit today?"

The mutant giant was Tyrion Lannister's man as well as head of security for the University. He thrust a large fist down towards them and was mildly disappointed that none of them flinched. Inside the huge ham of a fist was a cell phone with a clip of some of the students at the local mall cafeteria.

They watched the challenge directed at the biggest, cruelest boys in the school. Since Joff died, his merry band of battle chodes have lost some of their power. Now the Bolton boy sees his chance to rise and he has taken it in full force. If his father wasn't a huge donator as well as a professor himself, Ramsay would never be in this school. Nor his friends.

However, for reasons of his own, Roose has paid for Ramsay's buddies and his little boyfriend.

"This is concerning to me. I don't want any shit to fall on us here over whatever the fuck this challenge is. I am having everyone keep an ear an eye alert to this shit. Poliver, Raff and Dusten are going to be on high alert until Halloween is over. I knew those little cunts would strike back. I am telling Tywin that these bitches are out for revenge. They won't stop at just his grandson. I won't let them do it on any Kingslanding property or Lannister property."

Rolling his eyes, Tyrion skirted around Gregor, dragging Dany with him. Bron looked at the clip then at up at Gregor. 

"You get way too excited, man. They are just kids expressing themselves, leave it be. Boys might be boys, but girls will be girls. They will do some sneaky little move and bam. It's over before you even got your middle aged, steroid filled body there. I say let them. With Joff I think it was an accident. Revenge gone a little too far. But a Halloween challenge? Come on, they are just gonna give a little scare and frankly the boys deserve it. Those fuckers are shrieking baby dick tips that need to taken down a peg. Let the kids be, Gregor. Why don't you ever come have a drink with me? Or your brother? Huh? He hates me and we fight but at least he shows up."

Bron stood there smirking as Gregor stormed away, muttering to his boys through his walkie talkie. He ran out the door to catch up with Dany and Tyrion.

 

Chapter Text

Myranda grimaced as she brought the hammer down as hard as she could. The metal smoothly and finally went through the newly painted wood. She hooted and gave the offending piece of shit she has been fighting with all day, giving it the finger. 

"Finally won, huh? Let's test it and see if it works."

If anyone had told Arya that she would be working as a team with Myranda at the start of the year, she would have laughed to death. Then probably punched the person out for saying such an offensive thing. If anyone had told Arya she would become friends with her own older ice queen of a sister, she would have punched that person too. 

The thin feline formed stretched and Myranda wiped the sweat off her brow. Arya offered a water bottle and finished her own project before turning. Just then Sansa came around the corner and both girls shared the same mean smile. They waited as the redhead's proud regal bearing seemed to float her through the leaves. 

As Sansa kicked a small rotted piece of log out of her way, a trigger caught. Fireworks shot off around the startled young woman then a deep laughed boom as lights started to flicker. Sansa spun in a circle, the way the boys will, looking for a way out of the dangerous flares. Abruptly the fireworks ended but the booming laughter and the flickering lights continued.

Blinking, Sansa staggered forward and then heard the girls scream to drop. She dropped to the ground as a wooden board full of spikes swung past her then back again. Now the other two lunatics were cheering and Sansa wondered again why she let them work together. Her own sister tormented her years as badly as Myranda. Now she made them into a team and they might be the death of her.

Of course, it was never really Sansa's choice who worked with whom on this project. Everyone in it has simply started to work with whomever seemed to match best. It wasn't about personal pasts, it wasn't about each other, it was about the collective. It was making a point one way or another. This was a last ditch attempt to wake others up and to deliver a very strong message.

"Well, we know it works."

The girls started to reset the trap and Sansa stood up, trying to pick leaves out of her hair.

"I really hope you don't intend to test all the traps on us. It's dangerous."

Snickering, they rolled their eyes and Sansa sighed.

"It's useless to try and talk to either of you. It's all a joke to you, isn't it? Just don't let your fun side make you forget what's at stake here. This isn't just a damned game. They can't win this game, remember that. Let those idiots think Joff was an accident, they will know the truth tonight. And once it's all out there, it can't be taken back."

Other girls began to emerge from their own work and sit down to drink some water. Kyra reached past the waters in the cooler and grabbed a red bull.

"Oh, it is funny though, Sansa. We need it to be, we deserve this, THEY deserve this. I think it's funny."

Sansa turned to glare at Kyra but all she saw around her were smiles. Giving it up, she smirked and shook her head.

"Okay. Yes, we have clowns and a fun house. It is funny and I hope to laugh as much you you guys do. But don't forget the real reason, don't forget that the boys won't be laughing at all if this all works. And they will hurt us if they get the chance. All it takes is one bad slip up. This won't be as easy as Joff. It was one boy against all of us. We all are aware of how dangerous Ramsay is, how bad it would be for any of his boys to catch us. And even his little whore....do not show mercy."

Her voice was hard and her eyes glittered with tears and repressed rage. Marge came over and grabbed Sansa's hand tightly then waited for Sansa to lay her head on her shoulder.

"Hey, calm down, sweetie. We all understand the stakes here. That's why we laugh, so we don't cry that it's come to this. Everyone handles things in their own way, right? So let them laugh and make jokes. Everything is ready, all that is left is setting the traps and getting our costumes finalized. Now, as your girlfriend I am taking the initiative to tell you we are leaving. You need to shower, to eat and rest before our showdown."

Margeary Tyrell and Sansa Stark were the leading ladies of school drama projects. They were cheerleaders with Marge as the captain and they belonged to Student Council of which Sansa was Treasurer. Both girls were popular and both had dated Joff on and off. They were social friends that secretly loathed  and admired each other. Both struggled up the social ladder through out the years, neck to neck. 

Joff was the richest boy in school and highest among the social ladder. Sansa spent years dating him, putting up with his abuse for social status. Margeary dated Sansa's brother Robb for some time then she snatched Joff. Sansa wasn't upset to not be a punching bag but she was stung by the girl's win. Years back and forth, broken engagements, broken flesh for both girls until...

They started seeking support from each other and fell in love. They also discovered that something in them is gone. As if the years of flinching, cowering and agreeing to being a stupid idiot was imprinted deep within. It was easier to stay away from Joff as a person, but he was ingrained deep in their minds and it hurt.

One night both of them decided to confront Joff once and for all. He didn't know they were coming to see him, Joff told everyone he was busy that day. They followed him and watched him sweet talk some prostitute into going into a seedy motel. Ignoring the leering of the old man at the counter, the girls paid for a room they had no intention of using. Luckily the manager didn't ask for identification, but if he had Marge had brought a fake I.D. card.

They could hear him through the paper thin walls, they could hear the woman go from disinterested to fear and pain. Banging, screaming and the girls held each other. "That isn't normal...this is worse than what he does to us...oh god, Sansa, I think he might be killing her. We have to stop him!" 

Sansa called the police then they stood in front of the door as two officers showed up, wincing at the loud screaming that suddenly cut off. They broke down the door and the girls got a tiny glimpse of the carnage on the bed. The girls watched as a blood soaked Joff was cuffed and taken into custody. He looked right at each of them and smirked.

"Best you could do, huh? It's okay, it was a good try. I'm gonna enjoy getting revenge on you two cunts. You'll be begging me to take you back and I'm going to spit in your bitch faces."

To their ultimate horror, Joff was released on bail and brought back to school. The case of the dead woman dragged and when it did finally occur it was quick and private. Both girls were witnesses of course and Joff's attorneys tore them to shreds.

Varys and Petyr smiled at them making their blood run cold.

"So...you both were jealous that Joff wasn't with you. That he went out by himself, so you both just decided to stalk him? And then get a room right next to his to what? Listen? Go confront him? What was your intent exactly? Why were you so perfectly situated for Joff to be supposedly caught red-handed? I have here records from school counselors....both of you are being seen and medicated for some anxiety issues. Did you take your medication last night? Because I also have a report from the police that says you were both drinking and drugging before your plans to follow Joff."

The case fell apart and Joff was acquitted. Both girls were suspended from school for three months, costing them grades much needed. Then came Joff's punishment promised to the girls. He paid Ramsay and his goons to give the girls a bit of revenge.

The ladies had gone to a bonfire party where Ramsay charmed them both. He got them to leave early with him by telling them he knew a bakery that served lemon cakes.  A little tipsy made both girls not think clearly about their safety until it was too late.

He drove them to another section of woods where his boys were waiting. They hunted the girls for an hour. They were terrorized, shot with BB guns and raped. Left bloody and half naked to find their own way back to the dorms. Gregor and his goons saw them and offered minor first aid and escort to their rooms. The leering, condescending attitude of the men kept the ladies from any reporting. Why bother?

That is when the girls really began. When Sansa left a bloodstain in the shape of a hand on the dorm doors. Of those she knew were abused by Joff, by Ramsay and his goons. They all spoke, they all cried and they tried to rise above their pain to find a solution. But the system was no help, they knew that now. They spoke and then the first kill was just by accident.

This won't be an accident. Not at all.

Chapter Text

Every member of the University from Tywin Lannister down to the part time janitor that was laid off that very day and all the students received a text. Playing jaunty but slightly off key music and a clip featuring the mime. Behind the mime were a group of clowns, looking too colorful, with eyes that held none of the fun of their bright red noses.

The mime waved briefly at the camera and proceeded to open a tiny paper wolf. By some strange magic it became a large poster.

BOLTON, HIS BOYS, HIS DOG, HIS WHORE.

TONIGHT AT SEVEN YOU WILL MEET US FOR YOUR CHALLENGE. COME IN COSTUME. CELLS PHONES NOT ALLOWED INSIDE OF HAUNT.

SURVIVE OUR HAUNTED FUN HOUSE AND CLOWN SHOW, WE SHALL OPEN FREE TO THE PUBLIC. FAIL AND YOU LET ALL OF THE UNIVERSITY WATCH IT HAPPEN.

WE WILL BE STREAMING THE CHALLENGE LIVE.

BOLTON BITCHES PLEASE REPORT TO US AT SEVEN.

 The mime nodded and put away her notes but the clowns behind her acted restless.

Then one clown made a great show of sneaking over and whispering into the mime's ear. With a giggle, the clown did a quick tumble backwards as the mime snapped her fingers and nodded. Slowly, a long black clad muscular leg went up and over her own head as the mime smiled at the camera. She had a small paper flower in her toes. Her leg went down as the paper became a poster.

CLUE TO THE MEETING PLACE. RED LIGHT. GREEN LIGHT. GO.

 If someone from the University did not see the clip within four hours, they lost out because it then was taken down.

It caused quite a furor.

The elders all ruffled their feathers, gruffly cleared their throats and had hurried meetings at the school liberally laced with hard liquor. Staff was in a constant state of anticipatory gossip, causing professors to share their lunches and theories with groundskeepers this one special day. Students had no focus in classes, in study groups the only thing that was researched and theorized was this challenge.

Ramsay and his boys couldn't get out of the discussion no matter how they might try. They would nod and agree they accepted the challenge. Do they understand the clue? More nodding and a grin unless it was Reek. He didn't grin at any of it all, just grimly nodded that as Ramsay's Whore, he will be attending. Do they know who is doing this? A shake of the head from all of them. It was true, so far they are not lying at all and it shone in their faces.

The boys were all called into a room of elders that were well oiled with good brandy and ready to deal with this. They sat higher than the standing young men. Throats cleared and small rich chuckles and dignified grunts all were made as they attempted to loom with authority over the boys. It was irritating that only that thin nervous fellow was intimidated. And it was clear it wasn't the old men he was afraid of.

No matter the questions put, the councils received nothing further than anyone else did.

"If you understand the clue, where is this meeting place supposed to be?"

Tywin and Ramsay locked eyes and a smirk broke out on the young handsome face.

"Sir, we aren't completely positive yet. But we think it's one of two locations. When were all kids we all played at the Highgarden Commons, the park for us rich kids. Of course, I was rich enough to be there so was Theon, but my friends weren't. I would bring them anyway and Mrs. Tyrell would contact the police. Then Commissioner Stark would explain to Olenna Tyrell  that she cannot control who uses a Commons, even if she paid for it."

Ramsay gave such an angelic look up at Tywin and the arthritic but still strong hands twitched. Tywin longed to smack the living shit out of that smarmy little weasel.

"And? That still explains nothing."

"Well, at that park we played Red Light, Green Light almost constantly. It was sort of a favorite of ours for some reason. So it might be the place they want us to go. They look young, like our age. Probably kids we knew all our lives, thinking to finally take down the top alphas of the school by trying to humiliate and scare us. I admire and respect it. I fully intend to give them their chance. The second place it might be is that bit of swamp land near the Southern end of the woods just past the property line of the school. It is a rather strange area with a fully set up cabin next to the swamp area. It is sort of kept up by folks who camp or travel past it, I think. It has graffiti all over it and the trees around it. Someone hung a traffic light near the house and the green and red lights were painted brightly. That could be the other spot, we will try both."

The council tried very hard to convince the boys not to go, to allow the school security staff to go instead. They tried persuasion, baiting, blackmail and threats but nothing worked. Ramsay smiled up at them and let his last name do it's magic. There was really no school rule against this challenge. No rule that allowed them to truly punish students for something that technically was not on school grounds?

"You do understand that these...clowns might wish you true harm? That this could be an actual dangerous set up, not just a small prank?"

"We do. It could also be an amazing way to advertise a haunt. Get the scariest, meanest guys in school to get baited, challenged then scared in  their haunt. Everyone will fly to go see it right after. And just in case this is a case of folks wanting to cause harm, Sir, no offense, but you must not know us very well. We are very good at taking care of ourselves and each other. We will be fine but we all thank you for your concern, Sirs."

As the boys filed out of the room of elderly men all perched like ruffled, irritated owls, Reek leaned over to whisper into Ramsay's ear.

"It isn't the swamp or the park. That is not the clue at all. I know what it is and those are not it."

Ramsay smiled and grabbed his nervous boy, yanking him close against his own bulk. He walked, nearly dragging his boy with him. Yanking Reek by his tangled curls, he pulled a delicate ear up to his own thick lips.

"Hush, sweet idiot. We aren't going to tell anyone what the real clue is, are we? Because the real clue leads to what is considered a real crime, do you recall that? Huh? You lovable, fuckable little moron? Master wants stupid slave to shut his slack jaw now and wipe away retard drool, okay? Or is there a Reek that wants to wear a ball gag for the rest of the time from now until we get to the challenge tonight? Hmmm? What do you have to say, baby?"

The hand in his hair pulled so hard on the roots that tears leaked from Theon's eyes.

"I'm very sorry, Master. I'll keep my mouth shut."

He whispered it but it didn't lessen the shame. Ramsay's hand became gentle and caressed the sore spots he created. The shame was a comfortable feeling but Ramsay's touch can raise or lower it as he wished. Just like anything else about Reek and oh how he loathed it but somehow needed it. Theon leaned into the touch and dried his eyes fast as they walked fast off campus.

"I can't take these assholes asking us questions anymore. Let's go set up our costumes and discuss our plans, eh?"

Ramsay and his boys left campus to go to the old white plantation that was part of the Bolton Estates. It was a white elephant no one wanted to buy so Roose allowed his son and his friends to stay there when not at school. The only times Ramsay goes to stay at his father's main residence in town is holidays and when otherwise ordered there by his father.

They all thundered through the kitchen and grabbed snacks, beer then orange plastic bags full of the items bought at the Halloween store.

"We all know its that fucking little tampon packers. That group of raging ovaries that think PMS can get them revenge. Only they would know Red Light, Green Light, Go. Our amended game was only played by certain victims. And the ones who aren't dead are fucking with us. I don't think these girls understand what the fuck they are doing. They want to scare us, maybe even hurt us a bit but they won't kill us. They probably want to shame us or force to confess or some such shit. Or maybe they just hope to make us piss our pants in their shitty haunt. Reek will do the pissing probably."

They all roared laughing except for Reek. He wasn't blushing in shame like usual. His eyes were glued to the living room wall and he slowly extended his arm and pointed with a shaking hand.

Like his father, Ramsay liked long expansive clean spaces in main areas. The walls were devoid of pictures and whitewashed. Now the wall that was just above his new leather couches were dripping with bloody words. Some of the blood has smeared and dripped down onto the couch itself.

DOGGIE SEE, DOGGIE DO, DOGGIES DON'T TALK, DO THEY? COURSE THEY DON'T.

BITCHES SEE, BITCHES DO, BITCHES DON'T TALK, DO THEY? COURSE THEY DON'T.

Ramsay narrowed his eyes and hissed.

"They have gone too far. We can't let this shit stand. I was going to let them try their little scare and let them tape their own retarded attempt for all to see. This is war now. Bring any weapons you can conceal. Let the bitches play their games and then we are taking away their cameras. Then they are going to be very sorry when they find themselves the victims in their own fucking horror movie. After all, we all bought scary costumes. If they are evil clowns and mimes, let them act like it. We are redneck cannibal hillbillies and nightmares...we can act like it too. It's time to have a haunt scare then a Halloween hunt of clown clad bitches!"

Ramsay raised his beer and all cheered but Theon. He began to chug the beer he had been given and sneakily reached for another. He had a feeling he would need all the bracing he can get tonight. Theon's stomach and head hurt, something about all this was terrifying him. Every instinct screamed not to go. As if he had a choice, as if he could ever talk Ramsay out of anything.

For years he was Roose's whipping boy. The belt would whistle down to imprint upon soft flesh and Theon would scream. The soft but sharp voice blaming Theon for not stopping Ramsay from bad mistakes. Ever since Balon Greyjoy became unfit as a parent, Theon has lived out of the home. When he was nine, the Stark family briefly fostered him. However, Cat Stark was already having enough trouble with her own massive brood and a step son she despised.

When Theon's twelfth birthday came, he celebrated it by eating a Twinkie in the backseat of Roose Bolton's car. The man had essentially bought him from the Starks for a companion to his unruly youngest son.  The adults made no attempt to sugar coat this for the young boy, just bluntly and clearly explained it. He was sold like a pet to another family. His job is to keep Ramsay out of trouble and entertained. It was clear from the moment the two boys met who would run the relationship.

Years of being caged, beaten, flayed, whipped, tortured physically, sexually, verbally and mentally have taken their toll.

Roose stopped beating Theon for Ramsay's mistakes after a year or two. It was apparent that Ramsay took great joy in Reek's punishments for his crimes and Roose stopped. Not soon enough for Reek to not still flinch if Roose raises a hand near him. Ramsay delivered plenty enough punishments from that point on. Roose started to discipline his own son as Ramsay's crimes grew worse and that pain was then passed along to Reek with abundance.

Theon twisted his thin hands around the new cold beer as he nursed it. Roose will be furious when he hears of this and he'll call for Ramsay to come home. Depending on what happens tonight they might end up in jail instead of in Roose's house. If they are lucky enough to only end up in Roose's home...He can see without any problem the image of Roose just beating them all in one long line until his arm falls off.  Ramsay and the boys are enraged and pumped for a challenge.

They are discussing their plans and Reek fears all of it. He fears the girls mean more harm and might be more dangerous that Ramsay thinks. Reek also believes that his Master and the boys easily escalate into torture and on rare occasion...they have murdered people. At least a good portion of whatever this is will be on film. If a bunch of dead clown girls are found, the authorities won't have to really think hard to figure out who did it.

A gruesome rubber mask appeared in front of his face and Reek screamed.

He wiped tears away as they all laughed. Reek took the mask he was to wear and grudgingly got the rest of the costume to go change into. Struggling into the overalls, Reek let his mind wander and he recalled the real meaning to this deadly clue.

"You know the rules, bitch. You failed at Ramsay Says, didn't you? So the new game is Red Light. Green Light. Go. Are you ready?"

Theon could hear hear the string go taut as Ramsay readied his arrow for whichever unlucky girl was about to be hunted down. Shaking his head to get rid of the memories, Theon finished the outfit and added his mask. It smelled terrible and was hot but when Theon looked int the mirror, he jumped. It was a terrifying visage of a scarred man with long grey hair. The finger-less gloves only brought attention to his missing two fingers. It looked more gruesome than it ever has since the stumps healed.

He shivered and dreaded hearing Ramsay call him down to go.

Chapter Text

Skinner admired his costume in the mirror and sneered.

"Two can play at that game, you miming cunt."

Reek didn't say that Skinner's voice had a good amount of fear to it regardless of the threatening statement.

Skinner was indeed imposing in the Slender Man suit. It was a one piece white body and head with a tight suit over it. The young man was just thin and tall enough to pull it off. Only difference was he had none of the stillness or poise of the mythical creature.

Skinner was jittery and overexcited. The boys have been pounding vodka and red bull for hours. Assisted by everything from Molly to some weed when the nerves got too exposed. Ramsay and Reek have shared in the red bull but Ramsay made sure he and his pet stayed sober.

Damon was frightening as Leatherface, complete with fake chainsaw. He kept growling and acting out the end scene of Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Waving the prop so wildly he has already hit Reek twice with it.

Luton and Ben were not there, Ramsay and the boys tried to reach them all day with no success. Ramsay declared them pussies and told the boys that the two would not be forgiven easily. For this slight there will at least be a beat down for such disrespect and cowardice.

"Hell, even Reek's going and he is the biggest fucking pussy here!"

Reek shot a look at Skinner and wished to hell he could mention Skinner's own obvious terror of mimes and clowns.

One time they walked together to school and saw a large wall size poster of clowns to advertise a traveling circus. Skinner screamed and ran away. Reek found him a block later, trying to pretend he wasn't crying. He had threatened Reek that he would break his jaw if he ever told. Reek never did.

He finds a certain sadistic anticipation for tonight for the first time. It eases his fear as much as this mask on his face does.

The miserable kid is truly stuck in the female sexy Deadpool dress but luckily it had a full mask. It gave Reek a unique freedom of being able to glare or make faces without repercussion.

Ramsay and the boys laughed long and hard at Reek's Three Finger cannibal costume but Ramsay decided to give Reek the Deadpool costume he had made Damon buy.

Ramsay looked quite creepy and somehow even more handsome in an evil sort of way in his Clockwork Orange outfit. He was dressed like Alex, the main character, a brutal sociopath which Reek finds strangely fitting. Ramsay even managed to get his hair look nearly the same.

Alyn had run to the bathroom to change into a new costume as the other one constrained him too much.

Ramsay was aware that there was a mild chance the girls will attempt to hurt them. Though he is still more convinced that the girls are just hoping to scare and humiliate the boys. Just in case, weapons were being brought.

Nothing really bad of course. Well, one gun of course. Just one and only used if to just scare someone away.

Everyone but Reek has a blade. Reek isn't expected to every fight or defend. Damon hid his whip under the thick leather apron of his costume. When Alyn returned in his new outfit the reaction was interesting. Reek giggled silently under his mask, Skinner snickered and Damon just shook his head as if disappointed.

Ramsay just stared at Alyn and softly asked,

"Are you fucking kidding me? You are going as Donatello? A Mutant Ninja Turtle is better for defense?"

Alyn nodded and showed how he has at least four weapons within his bulky shell. Ramsay frowned and smacked Alyn on the back of his head.

"How would you have the time and flexibility to reach into your back shell and pull out the right weapon? Forget it, too late, wear the damned thing. It's time to go get our scare on."

 

They easily hiked to the area that the clues told them to go and weren't disappointed.

A balloon was attached to a tree, jaunting pink stretched plastic saluting them. A small circus train, the kind kids would be put in for hay rides or rides around a ring in a circus tent. It was just big enough, it had one seat for each person.

As if they knew exactly how many the group would be.

"No extra seats for Luton or Ben. Did you notice that, Master?"

"Hush Reek. Don't get paranoid. Look, its fun, they left us a fucking TRAIN, pussy!"

It was painted different primary colors and had fluorescent pink writing on the side of it.

PLEASE ENJOY THE RIDE. TO OUR FUN HOUSE. KEYS ARE IN IGNITION.

The joy of driving a train on a track through the woods overrode any fears for Ramsay, Damon and Alyn. They were arguing about who would drive it. They wondered if it could be driving off the tracks or if the tracks could be moved about.

Skinner and Reek had no interest in driving or riding the damned train. The two would happily never step foot into the fun house deep in the woods.

And both would willingly go to hell never admitting such a thing to Ramsay Bolton. They stood silently as the others worked out that the tracks cannot be moved without tools they do not have on them.

Alyn got to drive the train since he actually works as a kiddie train conductor at the local mall. Ramsay had to pick up his frozen sexy Deadpool and force him into a seat. Reek's fishnet thighs were bouncing in terror. Damon had to shame Skinner into taking a seat.

Alyn started the train up and Ramsay remarked that he had no idea so many around him were pussies.

The train was loud, it made a distinct chug a chug a choo choo. As in there was a true recording of a husky low voice saying the words. Reek wrapped himself around Ramsay as much as he could. This was way too creepy.

Skinner was clenching the edges of the train seat so hard that he was ripping through the cheap material of his suit. Spots of pink flesh could be seen in the gloved hands now.

The train lurched around, circled the same place twice then went a different direction. Ramsay and Damon had taken a spray can from the Donatello shell. They sprayed lines on different trees. Between the tracks and the lines, they won't get lost if this is a prank to make them disoriented in the woods.

Finally they saw lights through the trees up ahead in the dark. Blinding, blinking, so many colors, they all winced and covered their faces.

Shuddering to a halt, Alyn called out,

"Ramsay, out of tracks. I guess we walk from here."

Damon grabbed Skinner and shoved him out, into the dirt and leaves.

"Be a man. Let's go, what, afraid of lights? Come on, you idiot."

Ramsay yanked Reek out and Alyn leaped from the cab of the train and they all headed towards the teasing lights ahead.

 

Back where the boys had all piled into the train, two clowns were very busy. Quickly, one unlocked then folded up the tracks all the way up to the train. The other clown was not only sweeping away any sign of the tracks but peeling bark colored paper off the trees that were spray painted. An art major that knew Ramsay quite well as a hunter provided that lovely tip and fake bark.

 

Anyone associated closely with the University received a clip from ClownGirls.

It showed the Ramsay and the others getting into the train and taking a ride. Then as the boys start to head towards the lights, it switches. The mime is holding up it's magical unfolding poster with bold pink words upon it, all dripping with pink drops and smears.

ENJOY THE SHOW!

WATCH RAMSAY AND HIS BOYS EXPERIENCE THEIR FIRST ALL GIRL RUN FUN HOUSE AND HORROR SHOW!

GAMES! AND SCARES!

SHOCK AND AWE!

AND

REVENGE. 

 

Students at parties were paying more attention to their cell phones or computers than the party. Some of the hosts were launching the clips on their television screens for all to watch. Others in the library or their dorms, they will all watching.

Male or female, at some point through their lives, each of them were a victim of Ramsay or his buddies. No one was concerned, all were excited, hoping for some revenge, a little crying or running screaming through the woods would be fine to see.

Females tended to watch with a sharper, more sadistic eye.

Tywin and the other elders were irritated, Gregor and his men were slightly alarmed. Dany was nearly sick and Tyrion was breathless. Gregor sent Polliver and Raff out to find out where the hell this fun house was.

"Bolton would have parked his truck by the side of the road, find it. Hurry the fuck up and report back to me. I want this shut the fuck down now. If that little shit gets hurt by a bunch of pissed off girls he fucked with one too many times, I will have Tywin and Roose breathing down my fucking neck! Find them now."

Raff reported thirty minutes later that they found an area with muddy tracks that looked as if Ramsay parked there. But there was no truck, no train, no tracks, not even the spray painted trees they clearly saw in the clip.

Gregor decided this was a bit worse than he thought. He grabbed his own rifle and machete. If these little privileged shits want to play, he will play. 

This shit ends now, he thought as he headed for his tracking dog.

Chapter Text

Afterwards for years during countless interviews, the staff and the students would all say the same thing of a certain moment. As the live web cams had shown the audience, the group eagerly stumbled towards the lights. Which led them to a gigantic clown head with it's carnivorous mouth open, red then black.

The lights swirled kindly and even the carnival music sounded like it was meant to entice children. But that clown was haunting. But what truly had chilled everyone of them was the horrific acts later, they looked back on that one moment. That moment before the pack entered the clown mouth. 

There was a moment as they all went to enter the mouth behind Ramsay. Skinner and Theon grabbed each others wrists and started to back away. They were ready to bolt, to defy.

Had Ramsay not sensed it and turned around. He stared them down until they lowered their heads. Then he forced them to enter before everyone else.

What chilled everyone was the same thing. Had those two just defied and ran, it might have offered two survivors to ease the victimized viewers nightmares and therapy bills.

 

Skinner and Reek entered the dark tunnel already shaking and in tears. And that was only because Ramsay told them each that after this they could each pick one finger on each other to lose. He threatened actual castration if they didn't enter the fun house ahead of him.

One step inside of the dark mouth and they were ready to give up their manhood to leave. The inside had the music set to a deafening, sped up sound that disoriented. They were blind, when sudden bright lights popped, it was equally as blinding as the dark. They were holding each other, screaming as they saw clowns, hands, themselves, running, slamming into black rubber mats.

Honking horns in their ears now, slamming into black mats, sliding? And it hit Skinner too late, just as the air cannons went off and he felt Reek jump. When the slighter boy leaped up, his grip on him lessened and a flash of light let Skinner see Reek ripped away by white gloves.

Skinner figured it out, too late, oh fuck, too late.

For years now, in spite of everyone teasing him for it, Skinner worked for a slaughterhouse. Since he was fifteen and even now to get him through college. He was called Skinner because it was his special talent at work. But he knows how all the different areas work, he has observed or worked in each part at some point.

And he knew damn well how the slaughter chutes work to make the animals herd where you want. Those weren't rubber mats, those were chutes really. They were herded. It's a slaughter house design.

Skinner tried to reach for Reek, he tried to turn and go back, but there was no Reek and no back. Just a rubber mat, himself!! No, no, my reflection, mirrors and mats to lead you forward in a panic, YOU KNOW THIS FUCKING SHIT, COME ON. Hell, he taught it to Ramsay and the boys to sweeten hunts. Skinner found himself shoved somehow and he was SLIDING-

 

Reek had Skinner in a death grip because he knew, just knew being alone would be so much worse. Just endure, let it scare you and it will be over, this is a mantra he lives by. That he SURVIVES through and he is using it now with no real success.

He was screaming, sobbing and blind, deafened. Then a huge boom too close, the air felt as if it pulverized through his skin and he jumped. Skinner was gone, all these hands had him, they were really TOUCHING him, PULLING him! He felt urine run down his leg and he fell into a blackness deeper than the one before his eyes.

 

Alyn was hopeless against the slamming rubber. He was well padded from the air cannons and occasional freezing spray but he could not keep his balance.  A pop of lights and the mirror angled let him actually see the hook reaching for him. Screaming, trying to run, Alyn watched his shell get hooked and he felt himself yanked up and away like a turtle mistaken for a fish.

 

Damon and Ramsay entered together, confident and already laughing. Mostly at the shrieks of the others that they were already calling pussies. They loved fright houses and though they have been impressed by some, none of truly scared them. Besides, they were sharply aware that this was going to be some sort of revenge attempt.

Both made sure they had one hand on a weapon. Damon's whip was concealed behind his fake chainsaw. Ramsay had his gun and knife within easy access and his cane was metal.

Damon entered like a wall and Ramsay looked even more imposing somehow. Within moments the disorientation was extreme but it felt non threatening. Both started to relax and unlike the others, did not run and bounce off anything. They no longer could hear any screaming and figured the others already were out of it.

That was just before the world turned to pure chaos and pain.

The rubber walls led them into a new area that was closer walls then it turned into a fenced area with clowns following the on either side. It was very narrow, Damon could barely move. The clowns stopped jeering and waving.

They went dead still, heads tilting as if waiting for something. Ramsay was taunting Damon who was bitching it was getting too small for him to keep moving. The clowns were scaring him now, he was unnerved by being penned in.

Ramsay watched in pure stunned horror as the clowns started to electrocute Damon with cattle prods. The large boy couldn't get away from it and fell, twitching and flopping.

"WHAT THE LIVING FUCK? NO WAY, YOU COCKSUCKERS! THAT IS GOING TOO FAR!"

Ramsay pulled out his gun and tried to thumb the safety was he felt like he was hit by lightening. Twice more and he felt his pants fill with shit before he felt nothing.

 

Blurriness, his body coming back to him as one big HURT. Oh sweet gods, is this what it felt like for Reek on his bad days? No, it couldn't be borne, he maybe only a few times ever made Reek hurt this much.

He made a solemn swear to himself to never taser Reek again. He also swore to never borrow Skinner's cattle prod to use on his pet like he did that once or four times when he was drunk.

Making these vows helped Ramsay clear his head then his eyes sharpened as well. Trying hard to ignore the pain in his body, Ramsay tried to see what was around him before standing up. He squinted at the bright circus colors blinking on strings everywhere.

Was he in a room? Ramsay tried to lift his head higher and he threw up.

It took another few minutes before Ramsay was able to truly sit up and look about him. Now the colored lights were in clearer form. They were part of a drama stage set up, he could see that. It was gear from the college, he'd know he worked in the lights department for awhile. Until that incident with the lead actress, that uppity Tyrell bitch he had to take down a peg or two.

Forcing a grin onto his face, Ramsay laughed wildly and called out,

"Oh, I know you are here, Marge, you cold cunt! Whatsa matter? Don't want to face me personally? Where are my friends? I will hit you where it really hurts this time! I'm going to SUE the FUCKING LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOU!"

Nothing in response, just the carnival music still distorted but at a lower volume, so Ramsay continued to make out more things rather than focus on the lights. The momentary relief of knowing who might be behind this faded back into fear as he took in more of the surroundings. He saw he was in a large yellow and red tent. He saw that he wasn't alone after all.

A large whack a mole type of game had been set up in a fluorescent pink box. Except most of the holes were empty, but two were filled. Luton and Ben's heads poked out of holes diagonal from each other.

Ramsay wanted badly to believe they were in on the joke but the terror in their eyes looked quite real. As did the snot bubbling from their noses, the red teary eyes, the blood soaked ball gags in their mouths. The black eye that Luton had, the nearly ripped off ear on Ben. And Ben has never looked so...grayish before.

Wielding a red and and green mallet with clean metal spikes on the blunt ends, a clown waved cheerfully at Ramsay. The clown had a curly oversized multicolored wig, a bright red nose and a thick greasy smile. It made a big deal out of flexing it's oversized gloves before grasping the mallet and making a big joke out of being unable to truly maneuver it's weight.

Ramsay snarled and managed to stand up only to hear a rattling behind him. His leg felt heavy and he looked down at his right leg. There was an actual ball and chain attached to it.

Ramsay yanked on the heavy chain and it was truly real as was the ball he couldn't lift more than a few inches before dropping it.

"THIS IS FUCKED UP! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU BITCHES? DO YOU WANT TO BE SUED OUT OF FUCKING EXISTENCE? HOW ABOUT CHARGES FOR KIDNAPPING AND ASSAULT? HUH? WHERE ARE MY BOYS? WHERE IS REEK, YOU ASSHOLES? FOR EVERYONE'S SAKE YOU BETTER EITHER BE ONE ELABORATE PRANK THAT EVERYONE ELSE BUT ME IS IN ON. OR YOU BETTER LET ME GO RIGHT THE FUCK NOW! HEAR ME?"

The clown with the mallet jokingly held a hand up to her ear and leaned towards Ramsay before nodding thoughtfully. Dropping the mallet, patting both terrified boys' heads, the clown began to dance towards Ramsay. Side step, a little clack of the heels in the air, before doing a small Calypso dance before going into the Charleston.

Ramsay was nearly frothing in rage and the unease and fear only fueled it further. A ballet twirl or two and the clown finally faced him. It was just out of Ramsay's reach, though he strained to attack it.

It's outfit was a tight furry black and white thing that made no sense to his eyes. Oversized pink heart boxers with blue suspenders and a green bow tie against a white painted throat. Bright red leg warmers and pink ballet slippers and oversized white gloves.

Ramsay focused upon those boxers intently for a moment. They were HIS! It was a joke gift given to him by Violet, a girl he went on few dates with. Another bitch he knew that had a grudge against him.

"Is that you Violet? Huh, you stupid cow? Is it you?"

The clown simply shook its head at him and mimicked belly laughter while pointing at him. Then she came out of the pose fast, too fast for Ramsay to react. She hit him with something that was just wrong somehow. Hit him hard enough that Ramsay went to his knees and spit out a tooth. Whatever hit him was dropped down before him. 

Ramsay finally was properly scared as he stared down at Ben's tattooed arm. He even saw the brass knuckles on the curled gray fingers, that is what broke his tooth.

Oh.

Just as Ramsay let out his very first terrified moan, scooting away from the thing, kicking it away from himself did he hear a voice. It wasn't the clown, the clown was already dancing its way back to the terrified heads shaking in denial as it picked up the mallet.

The voice was a buzzing dead thing, but it was female, Ramsay could tell that much.

"DO WE HAVE YOUR FULL ATTENTION NOW, RAMSAY DARLING? NOW, LET'S PLAY GAMES, WE ALL KNOW HOW MUCH YOU LOVE THEM. DON'T WORRY ABOUT ALL YOUR BOYS OR THE WHORE. THEY WILL ALL SURVIVE JUST FINE. AS LONG AS YOU WIN THE GAMES AND WE ALL KNOW YOU ALWAYS WIN, RIGHT?"

Chapter Text

That dead buzzing voice that made Ramsay picture two horrible things at once.

A memory of a commercial that showed a woman smoking and speaking robotic-ally through a hold in her throat. It gave him nightmares for months.

The other image was of a large aggressive housefly burrowing into his ear, something that happened when he was five years old. It took two days of screaming agony and that horrid loud buzzing burrowing in his brain before his mother finally took him to a doctor to have it removed. It gave him nightmares for years. 

"We want to play truth or die. An example of how it works, Ramsay. Here it goes. Is your name Ramsay Bolton?"

Ramsay snarled and gave a reluctant nod. The clown tapped the large mallet lightly but with warning upon Luton's head while the balding young man cried.

"No. You must answer using your voice please. It is a simple question needing no more than yes or no. That is your last freebie. You are allowed to say if you don't understand a question but you must use your voice and answer them."

With a growl of rage, Ramsay replied that his name was Ramsay Bolton.

"Good boy. Now your next question, are you an abusive rapist that has also murdered?"

With a smirk, Ramsay glared up at the cameras around him. They couldn't go too far if they were filming this. These clowns had told students and staff it would be live streamed, right? And there was no way Ramsay was dumb enough to incriminate himself on film, even under duress.

"No. I'm not."

"Wrong answer."

The clown swung so hard that it was really just an arc of blurred color then Luton's head and face on the left side were caved in.

A grisly wet popping sound happened when the clown pulled the mallet out of the ruined skull. Most of Luton's flesh was embedded in the spiked mallet end, hanging in thin streams like sickening red ribbons.

Ben started shaking his head wildly and Ramsay screamed NO, grabbing his own head pressing inward.

Incredibly, Luton was somehow still alive and his bulging eye kept blinking. He seemed very confused and his mouth slowly flapped open and shut as if trying to speak.

Then it got worse, Ramsay in his own worst abusive or murderous state has never done this. This was...so much worse than anything he might have ever done. At least in his own mind he believed this.

An oversized white glove from the smiling mallet wielding clown began to gently caress the ruin of the exposed brain.

Ramsay moaned but couldn't take his eyes off the sheer gruesome horror of it.

One large white clothed finger, fat as a sausage gave a delicate spiraling spin to the gray matter as if were soup. Luton's eye bulged and then rolled around wetly in it's socket while his right features seemed to rise upwards somehow.

Ben sprayed vomit from his nostrils and Ramsay was unable to not puke bile on himself then. Tears were streaming and his voice was begging, pleading in harsh raspy desperation.

"End it! Just finish it and make it quick! Please! Stop, stop doing that to him! Just end it, please!"

With a big sunny smile, the clown removed her finger from the brain matter and gave Ramsay a big thumbs up. She gave a mighty swing and as Luton's head exploded it covered Ben's face in gruesome color.

"Now do you understand that this game of Truth or Die is very serious in it's rules. You tell the truth or someone you like gets killed...or hurt. I am afraid we had to kill first so that you understood the rules. After this we can start with just hurting the others if you answer a question wrong."

"Do you fucking know you committed kidnapping and fucking MURDER live? That most of the University just saw this and hopefully are calling 911 on you sick fucks! Hear me?" 

Ramsay turned to face the cameras, nearly unhinged in fear and rage.

"WE NEED HELP! THEY HAVE KIDNAPPED US, THEY KILLED LUTON FOR REAL, IT ISN'T FAKE! CALL THE POLICE!"

"Oh dear, Ramsay. We thought you understood us, that this was a game you have to play. Perhaps we weren't convincing enough."

The clown gave a silent belly laugh and then shook her head while waving her gory finger back and forth at him. Then she swung the mallet into Ben's skull and kept swinging until it was just a purple mess that could not have been human.

Ramsay howled and slammed his fists into the wood, he had to fight the terror. This was unbelievable, intolerable and Ramsay had the urge to try and gnaw his ankle off the chain.

With a click of her heels, the clown dropped the bloody mallet and danced away. Leaving Ramsay alone to stare at the gory box that held jello that were his friends' faces once.

Only for a moment. Then something large hidden behind a black curtain was wheeled in by three clowns. One of them was the murderer clown. She gave a wink to Ramsay and a coy wiggle of her fingers before skipping off into the darkness. The other two clowns stayed with the black curtained item.

Together they grabbed each end of the black cloth and whooshed it away. Ramsay gave a sobbing growl and stared helplessly at Damon. His oversized buddy, his right hand man was not looking very imposing right now.

It wasn't the blood and tear stained face. Damon was strapped down to a metal table. He wore nothing but his boxers and socks. Thick leather straps held his chest, neck, upper arms, wrists, thighs and ankles.

Damon was gagged but his eyes were large and darting in terror.

One clown left and the other gave a curtsy to Ramsay shyly. This one sported a white bald cap and a blue and white drawn sad face. She wore red and orange striped leggings and an oversized ruffled yellow polka dot dress. Oversize electric blue slippers that matched the blue gloves completed the outfit. 

Then the clown reached down and lifted up a chainsaw painted as brightly as Damon's had been. Then the clown showed them that the chainsaw wasn't like Damon's at all. She fired it up and the other clown ran in with a cord of wood.

The bald clown easily sent the chainsaw blade sink through the wood. No, this chainsaw wasn't like Damon's at all. This one was real.

"Now, let's play our game. Another easy question for you, Ramsay. Have you ever committed physical abuse against a woman?"

Ramsay couldn't let them hurt Damon, he couldn't.

"Yes. I have been known to strike a mouthy bitch. Is that what you wanted to hear? Where is Reek? Where is Skinner? What have you sick fucks done with them? I answered your fucking question, answer one of mine!"

"No, you don't get to make the rules this time. Sorry. Next question. Have you ever committed sexual abuse against a woman?"

He screeched in frustration but he nodded frantically then blurted out what they wanted to hear.

"Yes! Yes, I have sexually harassed some women. Yeah, I grabbed a few, took pictures or filmed shit without telling them, shit like that. Yes."

"Have you ever raped a woman?"

Damon whimpered when Ramsay paused, staring up at the cameras. Then he took a deep breath and replied.

"Yes. I have raped a woman."

"Just one, Ramsay?"

Wincing, Ramsay sat slumped, head down as if ashamed.

"More than one."

"Oh? How many?"

"I..I don't know..."

"You can estimate. About how many females have you raped?"

Hissing, Ramsay pounded his fists again but he forced out an answer.

"At least five. I am not sure."

"Must not have been very exciting to rape if you cannot remember the number, Ramsay. Next question. Name those five that you remember raping."

Ramsay couldn't, where were the fucking police? These batshit clowns were willing to murder in order to get a confession to lock Ramsay away forever. Or possibly even get him excited!

"I don't remember all the names. I was usually drunk when it happened."

"Wrong answer, Ramsay."

He begged and screamed to no avail as the clown fired up the chainsaw and began to saw through Damon's legs, just above his knees.

"You were warned, Ramsay. You were told how to play the game and what would happen if you lied. You have no one to blame but yourself, dear."

The clown pulled Damon's gag out so that Ramsay could hear his friend scream in pain as his legs were painstakingly removed from his body. Ramsay swore, cursed, spit and nearly dislocated his own hip trying to get free from the chain. When he tired out and fell down in panting tremors, he looked up to see that Damon was dead.

Ramsay curled up and watched as the clowns came back to help the chainsaw clown remove the wheeled table. When he saw what they brought in next he began to sob. He sobbed almost as heart rending in sound as Reek did attached spread eagle to a large wheel.

The chainsaw and mallet clowns left in a silly waltz with each other. The clown left behind wore a high towering blonde wig with fake birds in it and wore a traditional black and white Jester outfit. She also was juggling several very sharp knives.

Chapter Text

The elders gave quick rusty speeches online to their staff and students. They lied and said they had evidence that it was only an elaborate hoax. This is also what they told the local police when they received several anonymous calls from students and teachers alike.

Tywin said his top security men were out there locating the twisted show to end it. He assured there would be expulsions over this but for the first time, the old establishment was brushed aside.

Every local policeman available and the hastily awoken forest rangers were combing the woods. When a ranger found Ramsay Bolton's burnt out truck and two destroyed security cars, one of those cars with a body in it, a helicopter search was called for.

An officer saw a headless body a few miles in and a quick check assured the terrified, sick man that it was a real body. He stood up and called out that he found one. Ahead of him was what might be a head.

Eager for a promotion to a better location, eager for his fifteen minutes for fame, the officer sprang forward to see if it was a head to match the body. He never felt himself get decapitated. There was a confused look on his face as the taut razor wire cut through his throat and cleanly took his head off.

The officer to find his dead partner was smarter and used his walkie talkie to alert the others that there were random areas that had wire stretched across the trees in varying heights.

 

Skinner slid, but his hands and feet were scrabbling. He knew the rings and grooves within a chute, he has repaired enough of them. He had no interest in discovering where this would drop him to.

Losing two nails, the man finally made purchase and was able to stop his fall. The hold was tenuous as this chute seemed to be made of bendable, possibly collapsible material.

Forcing himself to calm down, Skinner found the section he thought was the weakest. He slammed his foot into it over and over until it broke free. Skinner flung his entire weight into the chilly, amazingly wonderful night air and then landed hard with a bone jarring thud onto the grass, padded by a pile of moist leaves.

Falling twice, Skinner got to his feet and started to run. He was sobbing, heaving and the calmness was gone as he fled through woods he cannot recognize. There are no marked trees, the lights are gone, so is the music.

However, he can hear somethings, like fading screams of his friends. Skinner didn't turn back, not even for Ramsay, no fucking way. He will get out of these woods and go get help. Once he is safe from whatever this hellish place is.

Then he heard a terrible metallic snap and the pain was so brilliant that Skinner's back arched and his head flung back. A long, high pitched howl as if he were a werewolf. He fell to his side and looked at what has caught his leg.

It was a big game trap and the jaws have closed upon his lower calf. It has bit through the skin, shredding muscles, tendons and burying it's teeth deep into bone. Skinner watched the ground around him pool with blood.

He tried to lunge forward in a mindless panic of a hurt and trapped animal. Incredibly, he heard another snap and the pain made him grey out. When he awoke, his left wrist was being held together by the metal teeth of the trap itself. Skinner was caught but good. 

 

Alyn was never so grateful to be a Ninja Turtle than he was right now and Ramsay could suck it on that one, baby.

He was hooked and felt himself sail. Kicking out his legs hard, he connected into a rubber wall that knocked askew, then into a chest. Grunting, a set of hands moved away. Spinning and kicking out, using the hook to his advantage, Alyn got out of the grips. A large rending sound and Alyn hit the floor.

He wasted no time but began to army crawl fast in the dark, knowing the hands will be coming again. A sparking sound, then another but the suit was so thick, Alyn couldn't be reached.

He silently laughed as the cattle prods did nothing and he now used the floor and his suit to slide fast. A line of faint light and cool fresh air drove him forward.

When he felt it was close enough, Alyn lunged up and threw all of his weight into the fake wall.

Crashing, skidding then rolling, Alyn fell down the small ravine and climbed the other side as fast as he could. Honking horns and floppy shoes kicking through leaves told him he was still in peril. Shit. He pulled himself up and ran, not even bothering to check for tree marks.

"FUCK YOU! I'M A TURTLE THAT TOOK TRACK FOR TEN YEARS, MOTHERFUCKERS. FUCKING CLOWNS SUCK COCK! I'M GONNA FUCK YOU ALL UP, HEAR ME? I'LL FIND A WAY, YOU ASSHOLES! BETTER RUN BEFORE I GET BACK WITH THE POLICE!"

Giggles and laughter drowned out his words but it also warned him of where the clowns were. He threw himself down as he heard a whoosh and rolled away. The cleaver stuck in a tree and Alyn grabbed a rock and lobbed it back hard.

A muffled cry of pain made him grin as he got back to his feet. With a thick branch in his grip, he came up swinging as the other clown leaped at him. A muffled curse as the clown was knocked down by the branch.

As Alyn started to run again, a rock came flying back and made the world a dizzy, painful place. He staggered and blinked blood out of his eyes. Then everything was cheap colorful polyester and oversized gloves yanking and pulling as if to tear him apart limb by limb.

Alyn has never feared clowns before and refuses to now. On the other hand, he really wasn't wanting to die by clowns turning him into a human puzzle. Crazily, he thought, hashtag-clownproblems. 

 

 

 

Chapter Text

One minute Polliver was on steady ground, crunching through leaves following the faint sounds. Then a scream bloomed out, seemed to rip through the air and he ran forward. That was when suddenly the ground was gone. Leaves crunched, poster board tore and the man plummeted upon the spikes. He added his own screams to the night air.

Raff found him moment later and almost screamed at the sight. Polliver had a smooth wooden pike skewered through his inner right let and the point was buried deep in the man's groin. Groaning, he also noticed with a regretful full view in his flashlight another pike was through Polliver's chest and the man was bleeding from the mouth.

"Shit..fuck. Gonna get help right now, stay still, okay? Don't move, just try and breathe calmly."

Raff tried to radio Gregor but his walkie talkie was dead and where the fuck was his cell phone? He swore he had it when he came into the woods but it was gone, as was his wallet. He looked down to ask Polliver if he had his own cell phone but the man was turning grey and didn't scream anymore, he was wheezing.

Running as fast as he could, Raff headed back out of the woods towards the security jeep. He jumped into it and floored it. Raff would simply have to drive to the ranger station just around the bend and radio for help from there. Except when he went to make the sharp turn, the brakes weren't working. Raff screeched as the jeep plummeted down a ravine. He was dead on impact but Polliver didn't die for another twenty minutes or so.

Around the time Gregor showed up in fact.

 

Ramsay was on his hands and knees, sobbing harshly.

"Don't...Reek is innocent. Okay? He isn't like me and the boys. He's just a...just my pet. He doesn't choose what to do, I choose it for him. You can't hurt him, please, he didn't do the stuff we did! He only followed orders because I've trained him to."

"Innocent, Ramsay? I am not sure about that. But I do want to be fair with my games. So let's find out if Theon is innocent."

Ramsay snarled at the voice he couldn't see as if he were a mad dog, yanking on his chain again.

"Don't call him that! His name is Reek!"

"You may call him whatever you want. His name is Theon at the University, it is his name. If you try to correct me about it again, you'll regret it."

Theon shuddered and tried to remain calm, but he was panting and sobbing. He didn't understand anything but that his Master has brought this horrific horror upon them all.

He could hear Damon's torture behind his curtain once he was tethered to this large wheel. When the curtain on him fluttered once, his eye caught sight of the gory Luton and Ben left in a pile.

"Then the game shall turn a little. Ramsay, please stay on your knees, but lift your arms out wide to either side."

Theon watched Ramsay struggle with doing something so compliantly and he dropped his head in defeat. The juggling clown sent a blade spinning into Theon's right bicep. Theon cried out.

Ramsay swore then put his arms out to either side. From behind came movement then quick as a magic trick there were metal cuffs on each wrist. A clown stood at a small distance from Ramsay on either side of him. Mallet clown to his left and chainsaw clown on his right. Each held a chain that was attached to the cuffs.

"Excellent. Let us proceed. Theon, answer my questions. Have you drugged women, baited or lured them for your Master and his friends?"

Turning red and with rolling, wet shameful eyes, Theon nodded.

"Y...Yes. I have done these things for my Master."

"Next question. Have you held women down against their will so your Master could rape them? Or deliberately chained, stripped and helped your Master kidnap women?"

"Yes. To all of it. Yes. I did. I'm sorry. So sorry, please. Make this stop. Please, I'd like to go home now."

The clown began to mime sobbing then pretended to offer great sympathy, pretending to dry the tears with a very long colorful hanky.

Ramsay stared hard at each of these bitches and wished he could see their faces. Wigs, make up and costuming hid their identities and most infuriating of all is the voice. 

"You can't go home and this will not stop, Theon. You aren't done with the game yet. Now, next question. Did you assist your Master on hunts of human beings? Did you help hide evidence and bodies for Ramsay?"

"Yes! Yes! I have to obey, things can be so much worse if I don't obey! Don't you understand that I have to be good? And loyal, it's not a choice, it's...everything! It's survival and I have to....please, let me go."

Reek descended into a fit of mild panic and Ramsay growled deeper.

"What are you trying to get from him? Reek told you the truth, everything you wanted to hear. Let him go, you don't need him anymore!"

"Oh, dear. Ramsay, I am very sorry but we do need Theon. Very much. I'm afraid that Alyn and Skinner won't be joining our game after all. They chose alternate games. So Theon is our last toy of yours to break. Skinner and Alyn are dead or almost there by now. I should have told you but I am so enjoying our games. I forgot to tell you. My bad."

Ramsay gave a frustrated enraged howl then sneered up at the unseen tormenting robot voice.

"You'll go to prison until you die for all of this. Might even get the death penalty."

"Next question, Theon. If I told you that you could leave here right now if you did one thing for us, would you take the opportunity?"

Ramsay tried to shake his head at his stupid foolish boy but Theon blurted out impulsively like always.

"Yes! I would do anything so I can leave here!"

"Good. Just remember, you cannot take that back. You will perform a task for us and then I will allow you safe passage."

Theon nodded frantically and kept muttering, yes, yes, anything just please, as the clown released the bonds holding the thin man to the wheel. He fell to the ground and cowered before the clown who was flourishing her blades at him. Ramsay groaned waiting to hear what trick the voice was about to play on his pet.

Suddenly the clowns on either side yanked hard and Ramsay's arms went as straight as they could go. He hollered as it felt like they were trying to rip him apart. The clown pulled the blade out of the thin arm and by the time Theon reacted to the pain, it was over. The arm bled freely but the clown was offering him something.

"Take the blade, Theon. Stand where the clowns wants you to. I want you to kill Ramsay and you can leave. Slit his throat, stab his chest, however you wish to do it. Being Ramsay's pet, I bet you know some creative ways to kill him. Then you leave, Theon. Clown's honor."

Theon held the light blade and took two steps closer as the clown shoved him forward. He looked up at Ramsay as if for direction.

But the look in his eye terrified Ramsay. It was that sneaky what if look and it just might get Ramsay killed. So much for well trained and loyal.

Chapter Text

Alyn did as any turtle would do when faced with extreme danger. He tucked right into the plush outfit and plucked his limbs into the center. Rocking with the motion of the strikes, pulls and pushing of his suit by the clowns, Alyn used his teeth to tear open the Velcro and shimmy his way out.

Grinning like a lunatic, Alyn managed to crawl for a moment, push himself up and only then did the clowns actually look up and see him.

For one brief moment, the joke was so good that all of them shared a demented laugh, Alyn included.

Then reality crashed back down and the boy ran for his life. Two clowns were on his heels and as he dodged a tree he almost skidded into a mime. He threw himself into her, head down and heard the oof as she lost her breath and footing.

Throwing his bulk to the side, he took her as a shield as he lost his footing and plunged them both into a mud hole. The clowns jumped in and now he was going to be crushed to death.

In a desperate move, Alyn lunged up and bit through the mime's throat. He gagged and spit out a vile goblet of flesh. The disgusting mix of blood and white clown paste clogged his throat and tongue.

The mime was truly miming now as air whistled through her throat. Alyn whined and as the girl flapped and flailed he threw her at the two incoming clowns.

Only the fact that he was slippery with mud allowed him to escape the grasping clown gloves as he struggled to his feet to run. Weaving through the trees, Alyn kept one step ahead of the two clowns.

He was hit with more rocks but he was not stopping, damn it, he won't die this way. Not after fighting so damned hard to survive!

A glimpse through the trees of light and Alyn gave a sobbing laugh. There was the clearing where they left the truck! Holy shit, he actually is getting out of this shit show! Adrenaline renewed and he flew towards hope. 

"FUCK YOU, CLOWN TOWN! I'M OUT! DONATELLO IS NOT GONNA BE CLOWN MEAT! SORRY ABOUT YOUR MIME, YOU ORANGE POM POM BUTTON MOTHER FU-"

The two clowns leaned against each other to catch their breath as they watched Alyn's head fly into the dirt.

They giggled a little at how his body actually seemed to do a little chicken dance before falling. Best part was watching the man's mouth still trying to form the rest of his swear.

 

Skinner saw the mime around the time his body started to feel cold and numb instead of hot and burning. He panted and crouched there and whimpered. Just a white face, white hands, everything else was black with a sense of tall unnatural limbs. Not moving, just standing, watching.

"Please...I...don't."

Nothing. Skinner blinked away tears and for one second he didn't see her. His eyes cleared and he pissed himself as he saw she was a few feet closer. Standing still but her head was tilted now. Chest heaving, Skinner backed up slowly, inch by inch, never taking his eyes off the thing.

Yet the very second that Skinner heard Alyn shouting from a distance, his eyes so very briefly left her. He saw her blur and he shrieked and flung himself backwards, dragging his limbs in the heavy traps. Skinner never felt the last bit of brittle bone in his wrist give way.

He never heard or felt the gristly yank of his arm pulling free, spouting crimson among the leaves.

"STOP IT! JUST KILL ME! JUST END IT! I CAN'T I CAN'T ANYMORE! PLEASE, I CAN'T!"

The mime was crouched low, upside down like a clown spider that Skinner has had so many nightmares about. It was still, as if waiting for the right moment to attack.

Skinner used his good and well, only hand to yank hair out of his scalp in pure maniacal terror. His life and sanity were leaked away, his features drawing so pale and thin.

He was always thin, now he looked skeletal, his lips pushed into a smile that was no smile at all. Eyes flat and shiny like a penny, a dark hysteria screamed from those eyes.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT? WHAT? I CAN'T! I'M SORRY, SORRY! HE WAS MY ONLY FRIEND! MY ONLY ONE AND I KEPT HIM BY GIVING HIM WHAT HE NEEDED! GOSSIP, GIRLS, REASONS FOR REVENGE, I SPIED, I STOLE, I KIDNAPPED AND I RAPED AND KILLED FOR HIM! I SET UP OTHERS TO BE HURT OR KILLED TO PLEASE HIM! IS THAT WHAT YOU NEEDED? A FUCKING CONFESSION? HUH? THERE IT IS!  ISN'T THAT FUCKING ENOUGH FOR YOU YET?"

Nothing, maybe a slight rustle and Skinner started to scream while ripping at his chest and face with his hand and bloody stump.

"END IT! END IT! STOP IT! I CAN'T! PLEASE, I CAN'T! IT WAS NOT MY FAULT, THE OTHER ONE! I DON'T, I AM NOT LIKE THAT! I DIDN'T KNOW HOW YOUNG SHE WAS AND I WAS WAY FUCKING DRUNK! HOW WOULD I KNOW THAT SANSA WOULD INVITE HER LITTLE SISTER TO SLEEP AT HER DORM? I MEAN RAMSAY WAS TEACHING THAT GINGER CUNT A LITTLE LESSON FOR BEING RUDE AND THERE WAS THIS....FEMALE. I WAS ALREADY DRUNK AND HIGH. WASN'T MY FAULT, I DIDN'T KNOW HER AGE! I NEVER TOLD RAMSAY TO DO WHAT HE DID AFTER! THAT WASN'T MY FAULT...I...OH GOD, I AM A FUCKING MONSTER. SHE WAS JUST A KID AND I WAS SO SICK THE NEXT DAY WHEN I SAW WHAT RAMSAY DID. I'M SORRY! I AM SORRY!"

Skinner watched as the mime skittered forward so fast, a nightmare steamrolling at him in the highest of clarity and color. He screamed so loud his larynx burst and only a whistle came out as the mime reached him. His chest crushed under the sheer horror of her and her clown jaw unhinged and swallowed him whole.

 

All students and staff agreed later in interviews that the most disturbing death to witness was Skinner's.

They watched as he stared, twitching and screaming at something they couldn't see. He hollered out his confessions, they watched as the man ripped his own arm out of the trap to escape his invisible tormentor.

Skinner crawled around, ripped out his hair, clawed himself and then let out a last howl that ended in silence. They watched as the man expired with bulging eyes and a wide open mouth forever screaming.

The corner determined that blood loss and shock caused the man to go into cardiac arrest. Skinner may not have been noticed by many but Ramsay during his life but in death he was quite famous. He lived on in the nightmares of many viewers for the rest of their lives.

Skinner's last image became known as the True Face of Fear.

The mime's body was found less than a few feet from where Skinner died. Cameras showed that the mime had been drawn by his screams even in her grievously wounded state. She had a blade in her hand and the intent was clear but she had bled out before reaching him.

However, she was crawling up behind him, not once had the man ever face the direction the mime was coming from.

The mime was later identified as Myranda Bones.

 

Chapter Text

Everything Ramsay was seeing was  through a crimson stain. It was all so sharp and clear yet it was all stained bloody.

Reek, his sweet poor foolish pet was tainted.

Reek held the knife with trembling hands as if he were afraid it would fall. His eyes rolled, his several shattered teeth were noticeable in the grimace that spread across his narrow face.

"Reek, listen to your Master. Look at me, pet. Look at me."

Shaking his head, Reek began to yell in a high pitched voice.

"Look at what you've done! I..they are all dead! ALL DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU! AND I NEVER WANTED...I HAD TO...YOU MADE ME INTO THIS! OH GOD! DON'T YOU SEE THE TRICK HERE, MASTER? IF I KILL YOU THEY WILL LET ME GO? BUT YOU ARE MY ONLY HOME SO WHERE COULD I GO? YOU SEE THE JOKE IN IT? I CAN WIN THIS TIME! HA! I KNOW THE RIGHT ANSWER FINALLY! FINALLY I CAN WIN!"

Ramsay screamed louder and more wretchedly than ever in his life as Reek drew the blade across his own throat. His bulging eyes weren't in terror anymore, they were insane and somehow peaceful all at once. Reek's last thoughts were not of Ramsay, his last look was at the sky, at the moon, not his Master that he has just abandoned.

"And then there was one."

In spite of the dead buzzing tone, Ramsay could hear the sarcasm, the black amusement and he snarled, thrashing about. He nearly tore free from the clowns grasp a few times as he roared.

"ENOUGH! FUCKING ENOUGH! SHOW YOURSELF, YOU FUCKING PUSSY! YOU COCKSUCKING FUCKER! COME OUT HERE AND FACE ME, YOU GIBBERING, ROBOTIC CUNT!"

A curtain parted and Ramsay stopped fighting to lean forward, teeth gnashing, drool and blood mixing down his chin. The short, nearly wasted thin mime came forward in a slow, jittery walk. Her face was white with thick black round holes for eyes, black too thin lips and her outfit was all one long black stick figure.

It was her throat that was fascinating Ramsay. He had no idea that tears were falling down his face, he had no idea that he pissed himself. When the pasty white thin neck lifted it revealed the small black rimmed hole. When the hand held up the wand towards the throat, Ramsay found himself whining wordlessly like Reek would before a bad beating or flaying.

"Who am I, Ramsay?"

"Nooooooo......it was an accident. You didn't....I just lost control....an...ahhh....YOU DIED! YOU AREN'T HERE! YOU ARE DEAD! LAY DOWN AND BE DEAD! DAMN YOU! LAY DOWN AND BE DEAD!"

"I didn't die. I was rushed to a clinic in the Riverlands. It took a very long time to repair me the best they could. I almost died three times, Ramsay. You chewed through my throat and did one hell of a job. I lived with my aunt and your father was advised to let you think I died. Just in case you slipped your chain and came to finish the job. But you ruined my life, Ramsay. You ruined Sansa's life, she blames herself for what you did to me. Do you know she has tried to kill herself four times since then? Do you know that Violet, Myranda, Kyra and Meara are just as fucked up because of you? Margeary has to live without her twin because of you. That was half of her you murdered. We are all halfway to dead, Ramsay. And we all know a few girls are already waiting for you in hell. It's only right that you share our hell, don't you think?"

The mime grinned as Ramsay was wildly shaking his head and then she nodded to the clowns holding the chains. With cheerful laughter of innocent clowns both ran opposite directions with a chains in a decisive jerk. Ramsay screeched in agony as his arms pulled out of their sockets.

In a sudden terrible sharp bony collapsing, Arya the mime became a backwards skittering spider. Her garish upside down smile widened as did the hole in her elongated neck. She rushed forward as if to gobble Ramsay up and he screamed in the pure true horror of a child witnessing the boogeyman. 

Gloved hands pulled him down into a hideous embrace that he struggled to climb from with no success. His watched the spider mime crawl to nestle right between his piss stained legs. She used spider thin fingers to rip open his wet jeans and the others yanked down. Whispering, hissing voices as tongues, teeth, lips were everywhere upon him.

"One last fun ride, Ramsay."

"You love pleasure and pain, don't you, sweetheart?"

"Hush, just take it, you'll hurt but you'll like it. Or at least I certainly will and that should please you."

"Beg for me, beg me not to hurt you, not to flay you alive."

"Say please again and you'll regret it."

A fist yanking upon his hair brought his head at an angle to see the mime again. The head was upside down, the grinning mouth now a maw, wide and nightmare landscape. It was angling itself strangely over Ramsay's cock and by the time he figured it out, it was happening. The mime managed to angle the head of Ramsay's cock into that breathing hole.

He wailed and his cock hardened so fast he was dizzy with it. It didn't matter that teeth have just ripped his ear off, it didn't matter that another was licking and biting through his chest. Ramsay tried to buck forward into the breathing hole and his orgasm has never happened so fast nor so powerful.

Ramsay flung his head back as the pleasure surged through the pain and red mist. His eyes shot upward towards the moon that his Reek escaped to and tried to follow him. He clawed towards the cosmos away from the nightmare as teeth bit through his cock, still throbbing out semen.

The moon seemed to get larger, clearer from the red mist and Ramsay's vision sharpened upon the moon close enough to almost touch now.  He saw the faces of every victim, every friend he has destroyed and the clowns all swirling in the brilliant orb. Reek's face was the clearest adn the most damning.

The moon screamed at him and Ramsay screamed back.

 

Gregor Clegane was now commonly referred to as Zombie Clegane. At all the interviews the media took great pleasure in showing the pictures of a stern, healthy former strongman. Now a hulking grey man covered in scabs, unable and unwilling to ever quit his newfound heroin addiction.

"Everyone was dead...my men...these boys, a fucking clown, a mime. I just kept walking and I triggered some traps but none got me. Then I see the bright lights and I drew my gun. I wasn't gonna take fucking chances with these loony bitches. I see these freaky dressed clowns EATING Ramsay Bolton. I mean they were literally eating the kid alive. I screamed at them to stop and they just ignored me. So I tasered one of them and another put an axe into my side. I shot her in the head then they started to come for me. I shot them all and no, I'm not sorry for it. They were killing everyone! They were EATING someone alive! They would have done god knows what to me. It was self defense."   

Two months after the massacre, Gregor was found dead of a heroin overdose. There was no explanation why the man's bloated face was painted like a mime. No make up was found within his home. 

 

The University was investigated and the board was mostly ousted. Tywin Lannister gave way to Olenna Tyrell. Roose Bolton was put on trial as an accomplice to Ramsay's misdeeds. He was given a virtual slap on the wrist. It was only one week into Roose's house arrest that he was found dead in his study.

A dagger buried in his heart could've been done by any of countless enemies the man has made through the years. Except his narrow pointed nose was hidden under a bright red clown nose. Roose's sensible shoes have been neatly removed and big floppy plastic clown shoes sat jauntily upon his cold feet.

 

Whether it is a documentary, one of the countless books upon it, the few good and bad movies based upon it or a college kid trying to spook weed smoke swirled freshman heads at a party, the story always ends with the same chilling true end. Because the truth was worse than any fictional ending they could create.

In a lovely area of the mountains, there is a home for the criminally insane. And deep within the stone and metal structure, way past the most deadly of crazed humans, there was a small soft white room. Ramsay Bolton sits in there, never moving, never speaking. He is very hard to look at, so much was eaten.

Ramsay doesn't notice or mind at all. He doesn't care if he shits or pisses his diaper. He doesn't care that his bit of muscle left is atrophying because he doesn't move. His large bulging eyes are focused out the small window he is allowed. It doesn't matter if it is night or day, snow or blinding sun. He doesn't see it.

Ramsay sees the large screaming moon and his exposed teeth and jaw creak as he silently screams back.