Mr. Gopo, The Sad Clown by BloodySpaghetti
Do you ever have dreams that end up coming true? I’ve had a couple before, nothing too major. I guess I can’t even call them prophetic dreams because it made sense they’d come true. One of these dreams was me avoiding trouble with a teacher in high school, and the other one was me hanging out with an ex-partner with whom I’ve managed to maintain a rather friendly relationship for a long time after our romantic relationship ended. Now this most recent dream come true is something I am kind of struggling to digest. I’ve dreamed of watching someone committing suicide… and later it happened…
Cold chills run down my back as I’m writing this.
Now, this isn’t someone I know, which makes it all the weirder, it’s a complete stranger. The worst part is that I’ve had this exact same dream more than once. Obviously, the second time was harder to experience because I’ve seen it before and knew what was going to happen, also, knowing that you are dreaming does not make the experience any easier; you know you will be forced to watch the terrible events unfold all over again without being able to do anything about them. The anticipation of the images to come will slowly smother you as they cruelly reoccur in front of your powerless self, Pygmalion's Effect at it's finest.
It just gives me this disgusting feeling bordering on the anxiety thinking about It.
Anyway, I feel like I’m digressing, this morning my close buddy, Tom texted me. After the initial greetings, he asked me if I remember that one dream I told him about the clown killing himself.
I did, I do, I probably won’t forget that one any time soon after today. I told him that I do and proceeded to ask him what of it. He replied a moment later by calling me the modern-day male version of Baba Vanga. Noting how the dream could have potentially become a reality.
His words confused me initially, and I took a while to try to come up with a suitable response, the images from the morbid dream flashed briefly in my mind making me slightly uncomfortable. Thinking about the matter at hand for a few moments I opted to respond by simply asking what is he talking about.
“What do you mean, Tommy?”
He immediately began typing back at me, it took a few seconds before his answer formed in the small screen of my phone, “So I was looking for some clown costumes for Sascha and slowly drifted away to watching some Killer Clown prank videos. So, after a few of those, I came across a video titled ‘Mr. Gopo prank had gone too far?!’ You remember that guy?"
Tom was still typing at this point but I interrupted him, “Yeah, that sad looking clown guy… Weird fellow…"
“Oh yeah, so basically, that video is some kid talking about how the dude behind Gopo might have gone a little too far with his latest video where he seemingly kills himself with a chainsaw.” Tom texted me.
“Wait, what?” I responded.
“Yeah, and you know what’s the sickest part? Apparently, that kid got a copy of the original footage, because, well, they deleted the original one for obvious reasons. Dude, I couldn’t even watch this thing to the end… I don't know what went on there but it seems like Gopo could have improved his acting or he just offed himself on camera.
“Either way, it was really creepy!"
I set there, somewhat baffled by Tom’s words. I mean, the guy had to shoot people when we were back in the military and he practiced martial arts. He was used to seeing blood, hell, he was even used to shedding it in a way. I still find it kind of odd he couldn’t watch the video in its entirety.
I took a few moments before responding again, "Oh… wow…"
“Yeah, by judging what I see in the comments, seems like most people couldn’t get to end either, mate,” he texted me.
As I was about to respond, he typed again but I’ve decided to ask him what it had to do with my dream.
Tom stopped typing for a split second and then typed again, “Well, just watch the video, mate, if you get to the part where he shows the footage you should see the similarities to the dream you’ve told me about".
He proceeded to text me a link to the video he was talking about, and with his words of encouragement from my friend, I clicked on the link.
My cellular device loaded the video quickly, and it started with this young guy who introduced himself as Tonma. The guy then talked about how he caught wind of a video posted on the site by Mr. Gopo a few days ago which the owners had since removed. This Tonma guy kept on going about how Mr. Gopo probably went on too far for about three minutes and did not seem to be planning to end his dribble any time soon. Being impatient I dragged the stream time-pointer a little further down its line to a point where my screamed showed a transition slide-effect in the video.
I removed my finger from the screen and paid attention to the video that showed a typical bedroom. It was Mr. Gopo’s bedroom. Anyone who’s seen his videos must’ve seen the sight of his green walled bedroom.
Mr. Gopo set with his back against his closet, and the clown outfit he was wearing sent chills down my spine. He looked just like the clown in my dream. I blinked a few times to make sure I wasn’t making things up in my mind. His outfit remained the same, a red and white stereotypical clown’s uniform exaggerating his already fat frame. He had a white face paint covering his whole face with a large black smile painted around his lips, along with two large black circles painted around his eyes.
Just like in my dreams.
“No way!” I muttered to myself as I kept on watching the video.
That’s when I noticed the thick writing on his closet door smeared in black paint, “Sweet dreams are made of this”.
This never appeared in my dreams, but the mention of dreams in the video made me feel somewhat unnerved.
Mr. Gopo set there for a few moments before getting up and walking to face his web camera, which he stationed across the room from him. When he stared into the camera, I could see the face of a devastated man. He looked so miserable, almost void of all emotion. His eyes were so tired and faded.
Mr. Gopo then roared at the small device and smacked it away knocking it onto the ground.
From that point on, all I could see had been the bottom half of his bed.
Angry marching filled the video for a few minutes even though I couldn’t see much I couldn’t look away. Something at the back of my mind urged me to keep on watching the video.
Suddenly, the angry marching died down and I could hear a tugging sound.
The tugging sound of a chainsaw ignition.
I felt a cold sweat running down my face as my vision and hearing sharpened in accordance with a rising heartbeat.
What seemed like a second later, I heard a saw roar before the sounds died down.
I could feel myself growing anxious with each passing moment, my mind was re-creating the images from my dream. I could see where this was going, and I knew I was powerless against it. I couldn’t look away, I just kept staring at my Smartphone screen while the tugging sounds resumed, again and again, coupled with occasional motor roaring.
Eventually, the saw was ignited as the sounds of its engine took over the entire video.
In my head I already knew exactly what was about to come; It was clear I shouldn’t be watching this thing; I knew all too well that this wasn’t something anyone should watch, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. The fear that steadily built up in my body paralyzed me, making me relive the images from my dream in my head repeatedly. I was stuck as if it forced me to experience a traumatic event all over again.
The sounds of a chainsaw engine roaring throughout a tiny bedroom’s walls hypnotized me, forcing me to glare at my screen as if I was a sick sadist on the dark web playing with himself over the sight of a Red Room execution online.
Mr. Gopo screamed something in the background and I was shaken out of my trance-like state, I couldn’t quite make it out because of his tool of destruction, but I think it was something that sounded like, “I hate…"
The chainsaw’s roaring intensified only to be followed by the sound of flesh being torn apart.
The moment I heard the sickening sound of the chainsaw cutting through something squishy and soft. I threw my phone on the floor.
At that moment, I couldn't do anything but close my eyes.
All I could see in my head was Mr. Gopo throwing himself, neck first, onto the blade of the machine.
Over and over again.
For what seemed like ages whilst the sounds of a chainsaw engine roared out of my phone’s speakers.
I could feel my eyes well up while the sight of a man beheading himself kept unfolding over and over in front of me. I couldn’t help but cry.
Worst of all, even with my eyes closed and tearing up, with the chainsaw blaring through my speakers; I could still hear a sickening thump that came soon after I heard the chainsaw cutting through something.
I shook after a few moments and then tried to recollect myself. The video recording kept running, now it was just the sound of a chainsaw engine tearing through the silence.
I grabbed my phone and picked it up to turn the video off.
A man’s lifeless head greeted me.
I felt the urge to vomit and immediately turned my phone off.
But his eyes… I can never forget…
I could never forget that hollow, dilated, unfocused cold stare in Mr. Gopo’s eyes.
It looked nothing like a doll’s eyes; it looked nothing like something a person could do; I mean I’ve seen a bunch of good acting and stage props, Sascha is a stage actress, I’ve seen her do all sorts of whacky roles and performances… This… The sight, it was the sight of a real corpse.
These were real dead eyes.
I started shivering so badly I felt myself getting cold.
I couldn’t even turn my phone back on until a few hours later, at which point, Tom has gotten worried as when I turned my phone back on, people bombarded me with a flurry of messages from him and other people.
That disgusting image of Mr. Gopo’s lifeless mug crept up on me from the back of my mind as I started responding to Tom’s texts, sending a cold chill down my spine.
“Don’t worry about it being a sick prank, mate, he’s dead, his fucking head rolls into the frame at end of the fucking video…"