Kenneth Chase, 'The Clown'.

OMagic_ManO

As Kenneth Chase grew up in the early 1930's, he was without his mother, her not being able to Survive the labour, as Kenneth became the Survivor, his father's blame, anger, disgust with his son grew steadily larger over the years, Kenneth grew alone, left to his own mind to harbor it's own will after the absence of any form of family or friends. Kenneth was free from his father most the days that he was home, his father was a drunkard, losing himself in the loss of his wife, his life crippling away, the boy didn't stop to succeed in school, feeling hopeful for the future, being both Academically successful and Physically successful. Kenneth excelled in all that he did, he felt out of order with everyone, alone, in every setting he reached, he was alone. Kenneth began a interest for birds, gathering them while his father was out, any time he saw one, he would collect them and hide them in a cigar box, he became curious in birds, feeling their feathers on his lips, he wanted one, to touch one, to feel one, he wanted a friend. He was able to get into good hands with the local dentist, buttering them up for some anesthetics, he had his plan set in stone, to rig a bird feeder to knock a bird out, just long enough to feel it, to pet it. Within a few attempts, a Robin was the prey of the trap. He wanted to release the bird, he meant no harm, he would release it when it recovered from the anesthetic, or as so he thought. As the Robin woke, it struggled for life within his hands, a heart beat, a life. Kenneth tightened his fist around the bird, crushing the neck in his grasp, something sparked in Kenneth Chase that day, changing him all together, he tossed the body and discarded all the previous feathers, this was the beginning of Kenneth Chase, the Clown.

Kenneth kept to himself in his late years of high school, he never went out of his way to make friends, those didn't matter to him, humans were all so similar, he graduated in the late 1940's and moved on his way as a bus boy for a local diner, after months and months of studying, years even, Kenneth knew what would knock someone out, how to control anesthetics, Kenneth had no interruptions, no disturbances, not his dad, not anyone, he tested his knowledge on more larger sized prey, from squirrels, different animals in the woods to house pets like cats and dogs, tricking them with his social personality, his charm, the animals got a warm feeling of comfort from him, those animals weren't found alive after their disappearance, mangled would be the way to describe the bodies.

In the early date of 1954, a young man had gone missing and the whole town got involved with the search, freaked by the incident, a few months passed by from the search and nothing was progressing from it, the town was near giving up until Kenneth's father found his Cigar box while doing crawlspace work under the house, what he found inside was a true horror, terror personified, bloodied feathers, dismembered and decapitated paws of animals, and finally, a human hand, his son was a murderer. Not only that, after returning home from work, they stared each other in the eyes, knowing exactly what would come of this situation, what arose, Kenneth spent no time at all with booking it, leaving his home town, leaving his life behind, all little that he had left.

Kenneth Chase left his home town, it was no longer safe to pursue his urges, Kenneth changed his name to 'Jeffrey Hawk', he changed his looks, shaving his face, his hair, he decided now was a better than ever time to grow in strength, he spent the months working out in while he was hired into a Circus, renown for his mind blowing strength, he moved along this traveling circus, a perfect cover. He created a new life for himself, a new facade in which to hide himself, his demeanor, Jeffrey was a new man, no longer a shell of who he was, his personality enticed those, he was often a favorite among communities, a charming, friendly presence, welcoming to strangers and all alike. Over the next upcoming decade of traveling around the United States, he found himself losing whim of his sanity, indulging in junk food, unhealthy drinks, a habit of drugs, that carried through his life, what made Jeffrey Hawk himself was now stripped by his decisions. The vices helped calm his internal anger, his excessive need to kill, to spare himself that life, he lost it. He would steal make up and different sets of clothing from the fellow performers, his 'family'. He would use this as a form of way to get close to his new victims, using his friendly portrayal to anesthetize them, capturing them to take them to his Caravan, who the victim was did not matter to him, the age nor gender. They would awake upon his Caravan, bound and trapped by the same man who tricked them to this hell. Their screams were lost through mental and physical torture, their screams only powered him. Once they were at their weakest point, he would search their fingers and torment them the extra mile by cutting off the most prized finger, the best tasting finger, he would add that finger to his collection and dispose of the body, the body meant nothing more than just material, the finger is what counted. A good collection is the variety in it, the memories that they live through the possession, what they count off in the mind.

The costume became more and more of a identity, Jeffrey didn't have to change anymore, into someone he didn't like, he was the Clown, that was all he wanted, all he needed, he disposed of his personality as if it was a victim of him as well, he wanted to be the Clown, not fake some persona of it. He was the Clown, no one could change that, his meaning in life now held a point, he was happy with who he was, after all these years of endless obstacles, maneuvering society, isolation was no longer an issue, all he needed was himself.

The Clown became more and more confident in his work, he left himself more loops that could ultimately damage himself, that's exactly what he did, he got sloppy. The Clown fell into a drunken stupor, to free his mind, only to find that she escaped, he was not able enough to stop this, his mind nor body functioned like it used to, the circus was on him now, he left in the night with his horse, whipping off into the dark.

The Clown was his own circus now, going to different Carnivals to lure more victims and moved on ever so often, he would leave before they found any trace of a missing person.

In some time, he left the roads of the U.S. to travel to a different set of roads, in a different realm, he was overzealous to these new customs, this new world, he set up camp in this world, waiting for his first visitor, he was finally free.

This is my take on the story, I based it off his original story and wanted to add some kick to it, it's free for your interpretation, thank you.