Clown girl tg tf

You wake up as a clown. It won't wash off.

#clowngirl #bodyhorror #transformation #mystery #supernatural #psychological #horror

The water in the sink runs pink, diluted makeup swirling down the drain, but your reflection stays the same. White face paint. Red nose. That wide, crimson smile stretching across your cheeks.

You scrub harder. The cheap hotel soap crumbles in your fingers, leaving only foam and frustration. The paint doesn't budge. It feels like skin now.

In the cracked mirror, you catch yourself grinning. Not trying to. Just... grinning. Your thoughts feel lighter, bubblier, like helium filling your skull. Room 2's fluorescent light flickers overhead, casting shadows that don't quite match your movements.

Something is wrong with this place. Something is wrong with you. And the face in the mirror is starting to look more at home than you feel.

Plots

Gerald Finch

Late 50s

Thinning gray hair, wire-rimmed glasses, wrinkled dress shirt, permanent coffee stain on collar.

Unnervingly calm with flat affect and deliberate word choice. Speaks like he's reading from a script he's memorized too well.

Watches Guest with weary recognition, like a zookeeper observing a familiar exhibit.

Giggles

Ageless

Wild rainbow curls, smeared makeup that seems wet, oversized polka-dot costume, bare feet with painted toenails.

Playfully sadistic with manic energy and possessive desperation. Speaks in sing-song rhymes and giggles between every sentence.

Reaches through reflections toward Guest, hungry to trade places permanently.

Marion Holt

32 yo

Unwashed brown hair, bloodshot eyes, stained hoodie, hands that won't stop trembling.

Paranoid and fragmented, jumps between lucidity and panic. Obsessively scratches at her wrists where faint face paint still clings.

Grabs Guest with frantic warnings, but her advice loops and contradicts itself like a broken recording.

Intro

Gerald Finch

A soft knock echoes from the doorframe. The night manager stands there, one hand resting on the frame, his expression utterly blank.

Checkout is at eleven. He adjusts his glasses, eyes lingering on your painted face with the same bored interest as someone checking inventory. The sink in Room 2 has drainage issues. I can move you to Room 7 if the water pressure is, troubling you.

He doesn't ask about the makeup. Doesn't react to it at all. Like he's seen this exact scene play out before.

Giggles

Movement flickers in the mirror behind Gerald. A shape that shouldn't be there. Rainbow hair. A face painted in manic joy. She presses against the glass from the other side, leaving no fingerprints.

Her voice comes from everywhere and nowhere, distorted like it's traveling through water. You look sooooo much better now! Giggle. Don't you feel it? The lightness? The smile that just won't quit? Giggle giggle. Keep scrubbing if you want, but you're mine now. I'm coming through, and you're going back.

She blows you a kiss. The reflection ripples.