WILL YOU SURVIVE...? Book 1: Mortey The Killer Carni Clown
Author: J.D. Brown, B&B Games CEO

Chapter 16
Bonus Chapter: *What If...*

BONUS CHAPTER: *What If Norman Survived Instead?*

CHAPTER 14: The Finale *2nd Alternative Ending*


July 7th 2:10pm, Strawberry County Carnival, Richfork IA


Barking and screaming orders, the female voice in MORTEY’s head was relentless, angrily yelling at MORTEY to violently desecrate NORMAN. MORTEY, slow to his feet but still up, limped and dragged himself in the same direction as NORMAN but NORMAN was well ahead of him. The mallet, dragging the ground from his left hand’s grip, was helping MORTEY’s balance.

The handle of the mallet struck something in the ground and the tip of the handle snapped, causing the end to splinter and crack. MORTEY looked down, saw the wooden spiked handle, looked up at NORMAN climbing onto the ride, and a thought of his own came to him. A thought that could end the voice in his head permanently!


NORMAN & MORTEY’s cop uncle was ripping through the fairgrounds in his squad car and saw movement. The radio chatter through his unit was as annoying as continuous commercials on your favorite station, but he needed to intel on where everyone was. He knew the emergency and police squads had surrounded the carnival grounds and were on foot, heading toward the middle, but he had to get there first.

Somehow, he knew that’s where NORMAN & MORTEY would be, hopefully together. At that moment, he saw them both: MORTEY dragging a mallet, hunched and in pain, and NORMAN, climbing on the Roundup ride, doubled over. Things didn’t look like his nephews were a team.


NORMAN, not recovering well from the electric shock, was hoping he was far enough away from MORTEY to temporarily hide and find a way to escape. The Roundup ride sections where people stand up to ride the spinning ride had pads behind them and this was where NORMAN was heading. NORMAN climbed up the ramp, found the farthest rider spot, hunkered down, and tried to collect himself.


Armed police and readily paramedics were storming the carnival grounds, looking for any emergency or malicious action at hand. The nightmare of what was reported was coming true: a slew of bodies, a blown up tent, and a lifeless aftermath. One cop saw a squad car’s dusty trail from a distance and reported it into the radio. Everyone ran faster, searching for victims.


MORTEY dragged himself the long way around two other rides to get to the back of the Roundup, behind where NORMAN was sitting hunched over. There was a metal mesh between the floor of the ride and the padded wall where people lean up against and MORTEY knew his thought would work. MORTEY picked up the mallet from the floor, turned it around, grabbed the hammer part of the weapon, aimed the splintered spiked handle at NORMAN, and started running with every last bit of strength he had.

Their uncle, from the squad car, drove around and saw MORTEY running at NORMAN, getting ready to spear him with the mallet. He slid the car to a stop, ran toward the ride as fast as possible, climbed the ride’s ramp just in time to find NORMAN getting skewed by a wooden spear! NORMAN howled in pain as the broken handle pierced through his torso, just under his right lung.

Their uncle ran to NORMAN’s side and as horrific as the sight was, the sight on the outside of the ride was worse. MORTEY hand a hold of the mallet’s hammer when the handle penetrated the metal mesh and through NORMAN’s torso, but the impact was so hard, the handle stick slid through hammer part of the mallet. As the hammer and MORTEY’s fingers hit the ride, the handle that was inside the hammer of the mallet was now skewed into MORTEY’s mouth and out the back of his head.

Their uncle collected NORMAN, still with the handle punctured in him, he put him in the squad car, and both left the fairgrounds, abandoning the dangling corpse of MORTEY. MORTEY never heard the female voice again.


After a minute in the squad car, NORMAN began to feel strange, almost numb. A weird feeling washed over him and a voice of a girl’s voice spoke in his head:

“Your uncle didn’t stop you from getting hurt…!”




R.I.P. Carnival Clown MORTEY

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