Less Than Down With the Clown

You arrive on the roof with Kanaya and Sollux to see you are too late. Terezi stands at the other end of the rooftop with Vriska dead at her feet. Another lost friend. You two never got along well but you still respected her. And with so few of you left each loss is worse than the last. Aradia, Feferi, Tavros, Eridan, Equius...Nepeta...now Vriska. You had hoped to stop them from fighting, but they probably wouldn't have listened anyways. And if Terezi went as far as to kill her...you trust she had a good reason. She had better.

A stray honk pulls your attention back to the stairs. Everyone turns to see him walk up the stairs. Claw marks across his face, dripping blood down over his smug grin. You draw your sickle and see the others readying their weapons, rage written over their faces. Tavros died in a fight with Vriska and she paid the price for that. Eridan panicked and attacked the others and paid the price. But Gamzee...This motherfucker...He just went on a rampage for no reason. You sent Equius to stop him and he killed them both. Equius and...Nepeta. Looking at the others getting ready you just think, No...

You walk over and pap Kanaya, patting her cheek to calm her down. Then you move on to Terezi, knocking her blade from her hand and patting her arm, shaking your head. Glancing at Sollux, you see him staring at some puppet in anger and discount him. He doesn't need calming.

Turning back to the clown you approach him slowly, picking up speed more and more. He just walks slowly toward you as well, that smug grin still on his face with rage seething beneath. He isn't worried. Why should he be worried by little Karkat? All bluster, you would never hurt anyone. Of course not. You'd just pap him down and everyone can be friends again.


You reach him and pat his cheek. He smiles and his hand with the hammer lowers to his side. You pap more and make calming sounds.

As he calms somewhat your peaceful expression caves as your anger surges forth. While one hand rests on his cheek the other strikes forward, driving your sickle up through his stomach under his rib cage.

NO. Your rage boils. You would not let him get away with what he did. He can't just FUCKING KILL THEM AND WALK AWAY LIKE IT'S NOTHING. LIKE THEIR LIVES WERE NOTHING. LIKE...her life was nothing...

He goes rigid and pukes up some of his purple blood. His stupid grin widens and he chokes out, "H-HONK!" The exclamation is punctuated by a shudder going through his body, twisting the sickle deeper and making more blood pour from his mouth. "Finally got your motherfucking stab on, huh?" He laughs and chokes again before his eyes roll back and he goes limp on your sickle.

You pull the blade back out and let him slide off onto the ground. The others stare at you in shock. Their good, caring leader standing over the corpse of a once friend covered in his blood and showing an expression filled with anger and hate.

As the clown's blood pools at your feet your anger fades away to be replaced with sadness. The sickle falls from your hand and clatters against the floor. You stand numb, as the crimson tears slid down from your eyes.

It's done...Rest in piece...Nepeta...