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The Imaginary Clown: Marvel Fanfiction

A young man named Anthony lives with misfortune throughout his life. He was raised with abuse, neglect, and violence. Fortunately, he has someone in his life who never made him feel alone. Some people say he's just a figment of his imagination. A fracture inside the mind that formed through his environment. To cope with all the pain. Whatever they were saying..... But Anthony knew that was not the case at all, he knew very well that someone was living inside of him. He calls himself, Jihn. ----------------------- Stated inside a mental institution for his crimes and considered mentally insane, he planned a bet with his dear friend, Jihn. If he didn’t got out of that damn prison-like place for 3 months, his so-called imaginary friend will blow everything to bits including the civilians. Will the bet between two insane people be continued or will an unprecedented event happen, that would change both of their lives? (This is my first time writing fanfiction. I hope you can help me progress better for tolerable entertainment.) (PS. Although it’s in Marvel Universe, it won’t follow the MCU version. A lot of other elements will be added to have more spice. Mainly from comics and other genres.)

TocinoMasarap · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
28 Chs

Aftermath

Countless muffled screams were heard from this old rickety house, settled in the middle of goddam nowhere.

No matter how loud someone is, no one can hear it for miles.

What a perfect place for a slaughterhouse.

Tears and snot covered the poor farmer's face. There were multiple times he blacked out from the pain but at the same time, it was the one who kept waking him up.

"Almost done..." the clown commented as if he's admiring his piece of work, "Just a few more ribs to twist" he smiled.

Jenny felt a shiver down her spine, what she just witnessed was clearly the work of someone who had done this many, many times. The precision of every slice and carve he implemented on the farmer's body was immaculate. He looks like a professional surgeon gone bad.

It's like he was keeping the farmer's life from slipping away.

"You're getting better..." you rarely compliment this clown.

"Merci, my dear friend," he chuckled, "I've been picturing and practicing this in my head for a long time."

You frowned at that response, "You need some new hobbies, Jihn."

"What do you mean? I have other hobbies!" clearly offended, "I love to paint—

"Dead bodies," cutting him off.

"I love sewing!—

"Bodies," again, cutting him off from his delusions.

The clown went silent, "Fine... I'll try uh.. find new stuff.." he grumbled. Maybe he thinks that you're right, he does need new inspiration.

Jenny just watched the insanity unfold, not moving her eyes from the scene before her. A crazy french man enjoying torture and is talking to himself while this poor pig kept pleading and pleading with his eyes. She didn't know what to make off from the situation.

It really was like a work of art, though.

The farmer's ribs were protruding from his back like the wings of an angel.

A content sigh was heard, "We're done! Madam, if you want to inflict more pain, feel free to use the tools! Or.. rub some lemon or alcohol to the exposed lung," smiling devilishly.

"I'm good, thanks..." nervousness was detected from the woman's voice, "Let's kill him already so this shitshow ends."

Disappointed was plastered on the clown's face, "Ugh, no fun!" he held a machete up in the air and swung it down with force. A thud was heard and silence enveloped the area. The last shred of fight from the farmer was gone in an instant.

Jihn stepped forward and grabbed the rolling head, "What an ugly fucker," he grunted, "At least, the machete was perfectly sharpened."

Jenny was stunned at how fast he made up his own mind to end someone's life. Not that she's complaining, she wanted him dead, too.

Jihn looked at her, startling her, "Madamoiselle, would you please clean up this shit? I'll just take a bath," he smiled warmly, satisfied from all the work.

She immediately nodded and started working.

Your senses were heightened once again, leaving the foggy state you were in earlier.

"I told you not to be too messy, Jhin," you were back in your ol' body again, stretching your back in the process, "we need a lot of cleaning up to do."

The clown chuckled, "I'll leave that to you, little one."

You just rolled your eyes at the response and went inside the bathroom.

After a few minutes, you were dressed like the farmer you just killed. All the blood that was stuck on every crevice of your body was already gone. You finally put on some gloves you found earlier.

Ugh, why didn't Jihn wear this while he was bathing in fucking blood.

"You know how excitement muddles my mind, mon chéri," excuses, you thought.

You went back to the kitchen carrying a lot of 'cleaning' materials, and many more. There's this cupboard full of 'em. Why not put it into use?

Jenny already washed the tools Jihn used, and the stains from all that blood splattering, "Actually can you dig up outside, your choice of place... uhm for about 8 ft. down and 4ft. wide?" You really didn't want to dirty your body again.

Jenny was clearly exhausted and the adrenaline was the only thing keeping her back straight up, "Sure... just give me a shovel." She just wanted to get the fuck out of here and bring Bobby to justice.

You smiled and handed her one, "Let me just remove his teeth and I'll just erase any traces that could lead up to.." pointing at himself, "me and you"

Jenny nodded and hurriedly left to dig up for a long time... you snickered.

"That pig basically has everything here, even the kind of acid that dissolves a body," you muttered.

Jihn chuckled, "To think he just died by our hands after all this atrocity!"

You put on a mask and a disposable surgical cap. As I said, you can find everything here. A pail of soap water was prepared, with a brush on your hand.

For hours, you removed all the possible fingerprints you can find.. places you've touched or brushed. You thoroughly cleaned the rooms you've been into, except for the basement. Sterilizing, vacuuming, and bleaching the places you needed to.

A reminder that you already moved the body and the detached head outside. Wrapping it in plastic to prevent blood from leaking and making a mess again.

"I wish we had a cellphone, Little Anthony..." a forlorn voice resonated in your ears, "An art piece gone to waste!"

You shook your head, "And have a piece of evidence that can lead up to us?—

And that's why we were caught." you added.

Jihn just rolled his imaginary eyes and said nothing.

Once you were done, you placed the utensils from where they were plucked. Replacing the gloves you used and tossing them at the body outside. You wanted to sit but that would just put you at risk, "Ugh, I'm fucking beat..."

You observe the home the farmer resided in.... if you can still call it a home.

Something caught your eye— a newspaper.

You grabbed it to gain information since you didn't even know where the fuck you are or the date for today. You were caught up in this fiasco to even think about your own situation.

On the headline, emphasized with a big red font says,

"Stark Industries...?" you eyed it carefully, ".. Tony Stark?"