#thekillerclown

[truecrimeware]

John Wayne Gacy had a difficult relationship with his father. He did many things to seek his approval, which was not forthcoming. #johnwaynegacy #gacy #pogotheclown #thekillerclown #serialkiller #chicago #lethalinjection #deathsentence https://www.instagram.com/p/B66OXqvpB45/?igshid=1ccxkuvdofpd3

[creepycults-blog]

#creepy #johnwaynegacy #thekillerclown #killerclowns #clown #serialkiller #murderer #crazykiller #crazy #scary #scaryclown #quote #quotes #murder #it

[othnielfms]

#IT #KING #Dark #TheKillerClown #Cinepolis #CDMX (en Mexico City, Mexico)

[othnielfms]

#IT #KING #TheKillerClown #Horror #ClassicFilm90s (en Ciudad de México)

[othnielfms]

#IT #KING #TheKillerClown #Horror #DVD #ClassicFilm90s (en Ciudad de México)

[othnielfms]

#IT #KING #TheKillerClown #Horror #Dark #September2017 (en Mexico City, Mexico)

[othnielfms]

#IT #KING #TheKillerClown #Horror #Dark #September2017 (en Mexico City, Mexico)

[quinns-revenge-blog]

Reunited

[Closed for the-christmas-clown]

Harley sat in the driver's seat of her large while van, her foot flooring the gas pedal and hands firmly gripping the steering wheel. She had been out looking for The Joker, her precious "Mistah J" for hours again tonight, like so many nights before. Ever since she arrived back in Gotham a week ago, she had searched the streets without end to find him. He was the only man she ever loved and ever would love; she wouldn't stop until she found him, dead or alive. 

She tried to remember places he might be: their old hideout, their old apartment, his favorite bar? But every trip left her empty-handed and more depressed and anxious than before. Remember the locations was hard after three years, but she had just found the address of their old apartment an hour ago. There was hope of finding him again. 

As she pulled into the snow-covered parking lot of the rundown apartment complex, memories came back to her, like old pictures seen after years in a box. Harley and Joker sitting on the couch eating dinner together... the young couple holding hands as they watched their henchmen loading cash into the old van... long nights spent interrogating captured vigilantes... those were the days! And she longed to see them again.

Harley hopped out of the van, leaving her bazooka behind this time around, and walked toward the door. She turned the old, squeaky handle and pushed it open, then walked up the stairs to the third floor, stopping in front of apartment number seven. This was it. Harley knocked three times on the door and waited for an answer. "Hello?" she called.

No answer. Stricken with sadness and a sinking feeling in her gut, she turned to leave. Maybe her searching was in vain. Maybe he was in prison. Maybe he was in Arkham. Maybe he was dead. Harley looked up from the ground and stopped dead in her tracks. There was a dark figure ten feet in front of her whose face was masked by shadows. "Who's there?" she asked.