A cool breeze blew past my face. I smiled. I tighten my cloak.
I was out alone, in the forest. It was midnight, and I wanted some time to myself, so I had told Seb that I would wander around for some time.
Leaves rustled. Crickets chirped. All the life you could hear in a forest at night. It was also cold. I had worn a thicken woolen cloak just because of that. It was itchy, but I bore with it.
I relieved myself at a tree. Confetti decorated the tree. I sighed in relief.
“Winoc the traveler,” I said. “I am. Winoc, the traveler.
I didn’t talk like that.
I frowned. I then looked down at the confetti.
“Those mushrooms must’ve had something in them.”
I walked over to a boulder, and slumped against it. I smiled drowsily. A ring on my hand flashed, signifying it was midnight. I had bought the ring off a merchant we met on the road.
“Do you know what day is today?”
I looked up. A clown was staring at me, a grin on his face. He was wearing a large diaper.
I shook my head.
“It’s April the first.” He said, then laughed.
“What’s so special about that?” I asked, curious.
He grinned at me.
“Why, today’s my favorite day! It’s the day I laugh at everyone of the bastards out there. The ones that kill, the ones that die, the ones that procrastinate, and the whole spectrum out there.” He said.
I raised an eyebrow.
He stopped laughing.
“What?” He said, a guttural undertone in his voice.
He lips lifted up a little.
I planted my hand on the hilt of my sword, slowly backing away.
“Winoc?” A voice called out.
I swiveled around. I saw Emile standing there, her brows furrowed.
“Emile? What are you doing here?” I asked.
She frowned, and folded her arms over her chest.
“That’s exactly what I wanted to ask you.” She said.
I turned my head, searching for the clown. He wasn’t there. I frowned.
“I needed some fresh air, Emile.” I say.
“I heard talking.” She says.
I turned back to her. Then I saw the clown standing right behind her. He was grinning.
My heart sunk. The clown laughed.
Emile spun around, and I watched in horror as he raised a hand. He sneezed into it, and a large amount of green slime oozed into it.
I gagged, and so did Emile.
The clown was indignant.
“What? What’s so disgusting about nose goo, eh? Don’t you know how important it is for breathing? Listen, you bastard!” He yelled. A bit of the goo dropped to the ground.
That was it.
I walked over to a tree and let it all out. I saw Emile doing the same. Confetti streamed out of ours mouths.
“That’s it, I swear!” The clown says, raising his hand in exasperation. The goo went into the air and landed on the back of Emile’s head.
The clown burst into laughter. I vomited more confetti. Emile touched the goo on her head, then screamed. The clown laughed harder.
I looked at him.
“What?” He asked me, irritated.
Emile ran in the direction she came from. We both stared at her. The clown shrugged.
“It’s April fools. What’d you expect?”
I walked up to him. I unsheathed my sword. The clown stared at it.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Ego the Clown.” He said.
I stabbed him in the gut. He poofed into confetti. The confetti flew around me, and then reformed into the clown. He ripped my arm off.
“Oops. I went too far.” He said.
I looked at him blankly. Blood spurted out of my shoulder. He shrugged, and picked the arm up. He then walked beside me, and posed. I could hear Emile running back to us. The clown closed the fist of my severed arm, and left the index and middle finger spread apart in a ‘V’ symbol.
Emile finally arrived, her hair damp, and traces of moisture on her face. She leaned in next to me and grinned.
“Say ‘Happy April fools!’” I yelled.
The clown lifted my severed arm. The arm flew into the air behind us. Emile only now noticed my shoulder, and gaped at it. A bit of blood almost entered her mouth.
“Happy April fools!” The clown, Emile, and me yell.
We heard a ‘clicking’ noise, before everything went white.
A picture floats down from the air. In it, a stream of red could be seen entering Emile’s mouth. I looked remarkably happy for a person who had his arm severed. Behind us, my arm has the middle finger opened, while the index finger was snapped back into place by a stray branch.
In the photo, I sighed.
“Now, how the hell am I supposed to re-enter the story?”
“You’re not supposed to.” Emile said.
“Well, fuck. Here’s hoping the readers enjoyed this little chapter.”
“Where’d the clown go?”
“…I shouldn’t have broken the fourth wall. Good luck, readers. Oh… and don’t ignore the little noises you hear at night. Good day!”
The picture is shredded into pieces. The pieces arrange into the face of a clown.
“You shouldn’t have read this.”
April Fools! Thanks to the Typist Kid for blessing my blog with a story of his own. If you enjoyed that, check out his web serial The Zone and leave him a review on The Web Fiction Guide!
Winoc will be back in May – see you then.