The panic always seems to sink in at the most inconvenient times.

You jolt upright in your bed from a nightmare, your pillows drenched in a cold sweat and your sheets clinging to your body.

It was that damn clown again.

The past several nights you'd had a reoccurring nightmare about the same clown.

Nearly six feet tall, towering, laughing like God himself. Its red hair was plastered down in blood, and blood dripped from its buck teeth as it chuckled wildly. "You'll float too!" It beckoned.

You swear you could see its silhouette in the doorway now.

With clammy palms you flick on the bedside lamp and are relieved to see that nothing is there. Regardless, your hands are still shaking. You reach for your cigarettes but the carton is empty.

You decide to walk to the nearest gas station to buy another pack. It's not like you could go back to sleep anyways, and you needed something to soothe your frayed nerves. You slip on some shoes and a coat and leave as quickly as possible.

It's a week night, so the streets are mostly empty. The occasional siren fires off through the dark distance, and the streetlights flicker uneasily as you pass beneath them. You focus on the sound of your two feet against the pavement, keeping careful watch of them as well.

That's when you see it.

Two eyes glowing like hot coals in the sewer grate. Your breath catches in your throat for a moment, but you walk faster and avoid looking at it entirely. You know it's not real, but your mind screams a loop of "But what if it is? But what if it is?"

You enter the gas station. The fluorescent lights above hum like flies. You scan the shelves for any sort of quick comfort snacks but nothing sounds appealing. You proceed to the counter and purchase just the pack of cigarettes and a little white lighter. Thanking the clerk with a nod, you shove your items in your pocket and head out the door. As you walk, your focus migrates from your feet to the sky. The stars are not visible out here in the city.

They say poets always take the weather personally. Maybe it's not the sky that seems lonely, but perhaps it's just you. You can't recall the last time you've had a meaningful conversation with anyone. You've kept quiet and to yourself for a while now, not finding the time or interest to pursue social interactions.

Much less romance.

You take a cigarette out and light it, cupping one hand against the wind. You sigh, body slowly unwinding, slowly forgetting that bad dream.

Then you hear it.

A soft but manic giggling echoing from the ground beneath you. This time, you stop.

Gurgling laughter emits from the sewers.

You look left and right for a car, but the streets remain barren of life. You kneel to the sewer grate and peer in. You stare so long that the cigarette ashes fall off and land on your knees. You hastily brush it off, and in the process burn your hand. You wince and shake it off.

"Are you hurt?" A voice asks.

You quickly scoot away from the sewer grate, shaking your head.

"You should let me take a look at that."

You take another drag instead, keeping your distance from the grate. You can feel something watching back, unblinking.

Slowly, that feeling validates itself as face emerges from the shadows. Its porcelain face seems to glow under the streetlights.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?" The clown asks mischievously.

Your knees feel like they're going to buckle in. As though summoned by your palpitating heart, from the blackness out unfurls a contortionist in white. Its bones crackle and snap as it twists its body from a cubic position into an upright human form. Its limbs wind forwards and back and head rotates all the way around before it leans in over you. Its jaw cracks and its mouth opens wider than any creature you've ever seen, showcasing its many sharpened teeth.

For a moment, the darkness is so all-consuming that you are unsure if you've truly opened your eyes. Moving your limbs, you realize that you're partially submerged in water. Your body shivers before you jolt upright and begin to panic.

The sewers. It must have dragged you down here.

But when? Which memory was the dream?

Instinctively, you pat at your pockets for a cigarette, but they're missing. The lighter, on the other hand, is still there. You pray silently as you flick your thumb across its ridges, hoping to start a spark. After a few tries, the flame ignites.

The small, wavering flame only allows you to see up to an arm's length - and that's with a little squinting. You put the lighter back into your pocket. It was clear that vision would not aid you into escaping. Instead, you strain your ears and listen to the sound. It's dead silent, just as quiet as it was above the streets. Only now, the city's humming was replaced by the unsteady dripping of water.

You stand there in silence for an immeasurable amount of time, your mind and heart both racing. A sudden sloshing noise is heard behind you. You turn, and listen again.

Something is moving several yards away.

Your breath begins to rattle in your chest. You pull out the lighter again. The sloshing turns into a violent splashing, and continues to louden. Whatever it making this noise must be big, you think to yourself. A large object is thrashing what seems like a feet away now. The sound of water engulfs all of your senses.

You flick the lighter on.

And its there in front of you, grinning.

You scream and drop the lighter into the water, whipping around and attempting to flee. The water slows your speed, and your shorter legs are no match for it. The clown grabs you by the shoulders and drags you away.

Its laughter bounces from the walls, mingling somewhat harmoniously with the chaotic thrashing of water as it stomps forward and you continuously flail and kick.

It leads you out of the water to an open clearing within the tunnels. You can finally see, as just enough of the above light leaks in through the holes and grates. The first thing that you see is the clown in its full form. Its ruffled, white suit was dingy and stained and now also dripping with sewer water. It was just as towering as you recalled in your nightmares.

The clown, seemingly feeling your gaze, turns and tightens its grip.

"We're here!" It leers.

"Where is here?" You manage to speak, instantly regretting doing so. Why bother questioning it?

"This is my home. I thought I'd show you mine…seeing as I've been at yours so often."

The clown put one of his long, clawed hands on your face. Immediately, goosebumps begin to form all across your body. Your wide eyes stare into its glowing orbs, and something shifts within your fear.

The clown's thumb, stroking your cheek, migrates to your lips. Its hands are cold and makes you tremble. Almost unconsciously, you open your mouth and invite it in. Its thumb runs across your bottom lip before entering, and you close your lips around it tightly. Eye contact does not break as you gently suck.

The clown lowly hums with satisfaction as your tongue wraps around its finger.

Without warning, the clown suddenly removes its hand from your face and seizes your throat, forcing you down against the ground and choking you. It straddles your limp body, holding you down with its great weight.

You gasp with the initial shock but soon grow calm, savoring the heat your body is generating.

The clown begins to drool, dripping its hot saliva onto your face and into your gaping mouth.

Your vision begins to blur and you experience a fleeting sensation of euphoria. You can't help but smile back at the horrific Cheshire expression it reflected.

Drool begins to pool on your chest.

You weren't sure why you were enjoying this as much as you were, all things considered, but all that mattered in the moment was the fact that you were no longer afraid, but intensely aroused and burning with pleasure already.

It releases its grip.

You begin to heave to catch your breath, attempting to sit up.

The clown pushes you back down and shoves his long tongue into your mouth, dancing with yours.

Your hands drift upwards to wrap around its arms but it clutches both of your wrists and pins them firmly in place against the ground.

As its hot tongue churns against your mouth, you find your hips rising up to meet its. The heat between both bodies grows irresistible, and you manage to subtly grind your pelvis up against its swelling bulge.

Sensing the suggestion, it rubs itself back into you. You wrap your thighs around its body and moan softly into its open mouth, its sharp teeth threatening to pierce.

Without a moment's hesitation, the clown slashes away your clothing and discards of its own as well.

Its heavy cock throbs eagerly before you. You press your skin against its growing heat and sigh. Its veins seem to pulsate with impatience.

And with that, the clown spreads apart your legs and enters you, harshly and hastily.

You let out an uncontrollable scream, your body simultaneously relaxing and clenching from the sheer girth and force. It mounts you and fucks primally, clearly using you as a mere masturbatory tool, but you aren't complaining. Your hands turn to claws and desperately find some place to cling to, but once again it takes control of your feeble wrists and squeezes them together, thrusting even harder as punishment for revolting against it.

Your cries of pleasure are irrepressible now, but the clown only growls in response. Its teeth are now bared, slaver saturating your bare skin. Its hard cock rams into the walls of you mercilessly.

Your body convulses with pleasure, shooting sparks ripping through your captive frame. Grunting, the clown repeatedly slams its hips into yours. You've never felt anything like this before. Pure, carnal desire consumed every receptor. Nothing else can be felt but the sticky sweat and warmth growing between your two bodies, kindling in the tightness between your thighs.

As your toes curl in climax, the clown too begins to pick up its pace. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you moan over and over again, feeling its hot cum fill you up. You wilt in defeat, allowing it to collapse on top of you, still inside of you.

You jolt upright in your bed, a pool of wetness around your thighs.