Kyara’s eyes fluttered open to darkness. Her head throbbed, and her body felt heavy, as if she had been asleep for centuries. The air around her was thick and musty, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and something metallic.
She blinked a few times, willing her eyes to adjust to the dimness. Shadows stretched along the canvas walls of a tent, their shapes twisting and flickering as though alive. A faint light filtered through a tear in the fabric above, just enough to reveal the outlines of her surroundings.
The ground beneath her was cold and hard, a patchwork of dirt and scattered debris. Beside her lay a boy, sprawled motionless on the floor. His amber-toned skin caught the faint light, and his dark hair was matted with dirt. He looked peaceful, but the stillness of his chest made Kyara’s stomach twist. Was he even breathing?
Shaking, she crawled closer, her hand brushing against something papery. She glanced down and saw a scrap of yellowed paper with her name scrawled across it in an uneven, hurried script: “Kyara.” Her name. A flicker of recognition sparked in her mind, but it faded just as quickly, leaving only a hollow void where her memories should have been.
Another paper lay near the boy. This one bore the name “Asher.”
“Asher,” she whispered, testing the name on her tongue. It felt foreign, like trying to hold water in her hands. Yet...there was something...almost *familiar* about it. But she couldn't figure out ***what.*** She reached out hesitantly, her fingers brushing against his shoulder, but he didn’t stir.
A shiver ran down her spine as she stood, her legs wobbling beneath her like a newborn fawn. She placed a hand on the tent wall for balance, her palm coming away dusty. Around her, the tent was a mess—crumpled blankets, empty metal bowls, and a strange, jagged object that glinted faintly in the weak light. It felt both eerily silent and suffocatingly close.
“Where... am I?” she murmured aloud, her voice barely more than a whisper. Her throat was dry, her words cracking as if she hadn’t spoken in days. The question hung in the stale air, unanswered, as if the very walls of the tent were swallowing her voice whole.
The boy—Asher—didn’t move. Outside, the faint howl of the wind carried with it an uneasy silence, broken only by the occasional creak of the tent's frame. Kyara's heart raced. She didn’t know where she was, who Asher was, or even who she was beyond the name on the paper.
But one thing was certain: she couldn’t stay here much longer.
[[Wake up Asher]]
[[Leave on her own]]Slowly, she inched closer to the boy, before reaching out a hand to gingerly touch his shoulder. She hesitated, before touching his shoulder and shaking him gently.
"Hey...wake up," She whispered, shaking him gently.
The boy...Asher, stayed unconscious. The only sound that could be heard from him was his soft, shallow breathing.
Suddenly, he shot up, eyes wide, breathing heavily. He quickly scanned the room, before his eyes landed on Kyara.
"Who are you...? Where am I?"He said, eyes narrowed as he stood up, looking down at Kyara.
Kyara followed suit, standing up, even though she was good few inches shorter than Asher.
"I...don't know," she replied, her voice uncertain and fearful.
"You don't know where we are or who you are?" Asher asked again, crossing his arms.
Kyara paused, thinking of what to say. *Did she know who she was...?*
She shook herself out of her thoughts, focusing back on the boy.
"...both. I only know my name," She said, glancing down.
Asher snorted. "How do you not know who you are?"
She rolled her eyes. "Then what do you remember, big guy?"
He opened his mouth to say anything, but promptly closed it, his eyes widening as he took a shaky step back. "I...I don't remember anything either..."
Kyara sighed, crossing her arms. "Look." She pointed at the paper on the ground with his name.
"Do you recognize that name?" Kyara asked, glancing back at the boy.
He nodded shakily. "Y-yeah...I think that's my name..."
Kyara took a deep breath. "Ok...so, Asher, my name's Kyara. I don't know how we got here...or why we don't remember anything...but I think we have to work together to get out of this."
Asher eyes, flickered with something-*recognition maybe?*-before it left as fast as it came.
Asher scoffed, taking a step back. "And why should I trust *you?* For all I know, you could've been the one who did all of this!"
She rolled her eyes, moving a step closer. "Look, you're going to have to trust me! We're all we got in this place."
Slowly, shakily, Asher nodded. "Fine."
He glanced around, taking in their surroundings. “Where the hell are we?”
“I don’t know,” Kyara admitted. “But we need to go.”
They quickly exited the tent, stepping onto what felt like cold concrete. The place was eerie—dark, abandoned, and unfamiliar. The air was thick with silence, broken only by the distant creak of metal.
They exchanged a glance. Wherever they were, they had to figure it out fast.
[[Next]]Kyara hesitated, glancing at Asher’s still-sleeping form. He’d be fine. Probably.
Something inside her whispered that she shouldn’t go alone, that it was stupid to wander off in an unfamiliar place without backup. But another part of her—the part that had always been independent, that hated feeling helpless—pushed her forward. She needed to know where they were.
Taking a deep breath, she carefully stepped over Asher and unzipped the tent as quietly as possible. The flap rustled as she stepped outside, and an instant chill crept over her skin.
The air was heavy, thick with the scent of rust and something else… something faintly metallic, like dried blood. The ground beneath her felt solid but cracked, patches of dirt and debris scattered across the pavement. She had expected to see trees or grass—something normal—but instead, it was endless concrete, stretching out beneath the flickering glow of a dim light overhead.
She shivered. This place was wrong.
A faint noise—like the whir of a motor—echoed in the distance.
Kyara’s heart stuttered.
She turned slowly, scanning her surroundings. Shadows loomed in every direction, shifting with the flickering light. The remains of a rusted fence stood in the distance, half-collapsed, like it had been torn apart. Beyond that, darkness.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
Something was watching her.
A scraping noise came from behind her, like metal dragging against the ground. She spun around, pulse pounding in her ears.
Nothing.
Her breath came faster now. Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe this place was just creepy, and she was psyching herself out.
Then, a clicking sound. Slow. Deliberate.
Kyara barely had time to react before a figure emerged from the darkness.
A massive, humanoid animatronic stepped into the dim light, its metal joints creaking as it moved. It was old, rusted in places, its synthetic face cracked and peeling. But the worst part?
Its eyes.
Twin pinpricks of white light flickered in the empty sockets, locked onto her like a predator tracking its prey.
Kyara took a shaky step back.
The thing’s head twitched at the movement, its mouth opening with a garbled, static-filled chhhhk.
Then it lunged.
Kyara screamed, twisting on her heel and sprinting back toward the tent. Her breath came in panicked gasps, adrenaline surging through her veins. The animatronic moved faster than something that size should have been able to, its metal feet slamming against the ground as it gave chase.
Her legs burned. Her chest ached. She wasn’t going to make it—
Just as the thing reached for her, a blur of motion shot past her, colliding with the animatronic.
CRASH!
The animatronic staggered back as Asher slammed into it, swinging a rusted metal pipe he must have grabbed from somewhere. The impact sent sparks flying as the robot’s head snapped to the side, its glowing eyes flickering.
Kyara tripped, landing hard on her hands and knees. Her heart pounded as she scrambled to turn around, just in time to see Asher swing again, this time knocking the animatronic’s head clean to the side.
The machine jerked once, twice—then collapsed in a heap of sparking wires and twisted limbs.
Silence.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then, Asher let out a breath, dropping the pipe with a clatter. He turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “You’re welcome,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Kyara glared at him, still breathless. “I had it under control.”
Asher snorted. “Yeah. Looked like it.” He held out a hand to her. “C’mon, Princess. Up you go.”
She scowled but took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet.
Asher dusted himself off. “Y’know, I can’t believe you just left me there. Rude much?”
Kyara crossed her arms. “I was scouting ahead.”
“Right,” he drawled. “And how’d that work out for you?”
She didn’t have an answer for that. Instead, she exhaled sharply, rubbing her arms to shake off the lingering fear.
One thing was clear—this place was dangerous. And they had no idea what else was lurking in the shadows.
Asher seemed to come to the same conclusion because he sighed and muttered, “Guess we’re sticking together, huh?”
Kyara nodded. “Yeah. We are.”
"What's your name?"
"Kyara."
Asher paused, something flickering in his eyes. Almost as if he...remembered something.
"Kyara..." he mumbled, as if he was commiting her name to memory.
Then, he shook himself out of his thoughts. "We should keep going. Don't want any more of these attacking us."
With that, they turned and started walking, keeping their eyes peeled for anything else that might come out of the dark.
[[Next]](text-colour:black)+(bg:(gradient: 0, 0,#c2255c,0.4988,#d9480f,0.9926,#c2255c))[[[Chapter 1]]
][[Asher: The Blame]]
[[Kaelani: The Girl Who Builds Locks]]
[[Kyara: The Broken Dreamer]]
[[Deigo: The Boy Who Laughed Along]]
[[Him: A Forgotten Smiler]]
[[Back->You made it to Chapter 2...]]<img src="images/asher.jpg">
Asher had always been the happy one. The talkative one. The boy who could make anyone laugh, who always had a joke or a story to tell. But that was before.
Before the pond.
Before his little sister, Evie, slipped beneath the water while he wasn’t looking.
It had been a warm afternoon. They had gone to the pond like they always did, skipping stones and chasing dragonflies. “Stay close to the edge,” he had told her. She had laughed and nodded, playing in the shallows while he turned away, just for a moment, just to grab another rock.
When he looked back—she was gone.
The silence had never felt so loud.
He dove in, searching, screaming her name, but by the time he pulled her out, it was too late. The water had stolen her breath.
His parents didn’t need to say it out loud—he could see it in their eyes. It was his fault. And he believed them.
He stopped talking. Stopped laughing. He avoided the pond, but sometimes he found himself standing at the edge anyway, staring at the water, hoping for something—what, he wasn’t sure.
One night, months later, he was there again, sitting on the old wooden dock, staring at his reflection in the dark water. The guilt was heavy, pressing down on his chest, making it hard to breathe.
Then he heard it. The sound of footsteps behind him.
A slow, rhythmic tap.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Asher,” a voice cooed. “Still mourning?”
He turned, his body tensing. A figure stood just beyond the glow of the moon—a man, or something like a man. Tall and lanky, with a painted white face and a grin that didn’t belong.
Asher’s blood turned to ice. He knew that face.
Because he had seen it before. That day at the pond.
The clown had been there. Watching. Smiling.
“I saw it all,” the clown whispered, stepping closer. “You didn’t mean to, did you? But they blame you anyway. Such a shame.”
Asher’s breath came in short, shaky bursts. “Who—what—”
“I can help you,” the clown murmured. “I can make the pain go away.”
A gloved hand reached out.
Before Asher could scream, everything went black.
The show was just beginning.
[[Back->Character Codex]]<img src="images/kaelani.jpg">
Kaelani was special. Everyone knew it.
She had been taking things apart since she was a toddler—toys, clocks, even her dad’s watch. But she didn’t just break them. She understood them. She rebuilt them. Better. Stronger.
By the time she was ten, she had built her first lock—one no one could pick.
Her parents were thrilled. Their daughter was a genius.
And so, the expectations began.
Kaelani was pushed further and further—harder and harder. Top grades weren’t enough; she had to be the best. Her parents signed her up for competitions, science fairs, anything that would prove how brilliant she was.
At first, she wanted it too. She wanted to make them proud.
But the more she achieved, the higher the bar was set. And if she failed—even a little—it wasn’t just a mistake. It was a disappointment.
She told herself she wasn’t enough.
That she wasn’t smart enough.
That she wasn’t good enough.
Her friends saw how she put herself down, how she never accepted a compliment, how she rolled her eyes whenever they told her she was amazing. It annoyed them. But she couldn’t stop.
Because the moment she slowed down, the moment she let herself breathe—the guilt came crashing down.
So she built another lock.
This time, it wasn’t for a science fair.
This time, it was to keep herself together.
One night, she sat in her workshop, hands trembling as she twisted the final piece into place. The lock she had just created was her greatest work yet—one even she might not be able to crack.
But instead of feeling proud, she felt empty.
“You’re tired.”
Kaelani’s head snapped up.
A figure stood at the edge of the light, just beyond her reach.
At first, she thought it was her reflection—because it felt familiar somehow. But then he stepped closer, and she saw the painted face, the hollow eyes, the slow, twisting grin.
“Who—” Her voice cracked. “Who are you?”
The clown cocked his head. “A friend.”
Kaelani’s fingers tightened around her tools. She wasn’t stupid. “You’re lying.”
He laughed softly. “Am I? Or am I the only one who understands?”
She swallowed. Because deep down, she knew he wasn’t entirely wrong.
“They only love you when you’re perfect,” the clown whispered, circling her like a slow-moving shadow. “When you’re flawless. When you shine. But tell me, Kaelani—what happens when you finally break?”
She flinched.
He stepped closer. “You don’t have to carry it anymore. I can take the weight away. I can lock it up forever.”
Her heart pounded. She wanted to run. She wanted to scream. But part of her—the tired part, the broken part—wanted to listen.
And that’s when she realized.
She had spent so long building locks to keep herself safe.
But this clown? He was here to trap her.
The shadows stretched. The walls of her workshop melted away. Suddenly, she wasn’t home anymore.
She was somewhere else.
Somewhere cold.
Somewhere filled with the distant, warped laughter of those who had come before her.
The Midnight Carnival.
And Kaelani was part of the show now.
[[Back->Character Codex]]<img src="images/villian.jpg">
No one remembers his real name. Not anymore.
He was a story, a whisper, a shadow that lurked at the edges of grief. The Clown Ghost—Him. He only appeared to the broken ones. The sad ones. The ones who carried too much pain in their hearts.
Because once, long ago, he had been one of them.
Before he became a nightmare, he had been a boy who laughed. A boy who dreamed. He had always wanted to make people smile—his mother used to say he had a gift for it. No matter how bad things got, he could always bring a little light.
But light can be swallowed by darkness.
His mother was everything to him. She worked long hours at a tiny carnival, painting her face and juggling for tips, barely making enough to feed them. She was tired, always tired, but she still smiled for him.
Until she couldn't anymore.
The carnival owner was cruel. A man with a temper as sharp as the knives in his juggling act. One night, after a performance gone wrong, he blamed her. There were no second chances.
The boy found her the next morning, crumpled behind the circus tent like a discarded puppet, her painted smile smeared with blood.
No one helped him.
No one cared.
And so, he stopped smiling.
He stayed at the carnival, at first because he had nowhere else to go. Then because he had a plan.
The next time the ringmaster stepped into the tent, the boy was waiting. Smiling.
He had painted his face, just like his mother used to. His hands were steady as he pulled the knife from behind his back.
The ringmaster never screamed. Not at first.
When it was over, the boy vanished into the night, leaving behind a circus soaked in red. The carnival burned to the ground. People said the fire had no source, that it started from nothing.
But he knew the truth.
Something had changed inside him. Something unnatural.
He had become part of the circus itself.
Not alive. Not dead. Something in between.
And he was still smiling.
Now, he wanders. Watching. Waiting.
He finds the lost ones—the sad ones, the broken ones, the ones who remind him of himself. He whispers to them, luring them in with soft words and false comfort.
''“I can help you.”
“I can take the pain away.”
“Let me show you a place where sadness doesn’t exist.”''
And when they take his hand, when they step willingly into the circus that only appears at midnight, they are his.
But it’s never enough.
Because no matter how many lost souls he collects, no matter how many he drags into his world of endless laughter—he is still alone.
Still broken.
And in the end, when the illusion fades and they finally see him for what he truly is—they scream.
Because the Clown Ghost never truly saves anyone.
He only knows how to destroy.
And the show must always go on.
[[Back->Character Codex]]<img src="images/deigo.jpg">
Deigo didn’t ask to move.
Back in Mexico, he had friends. He had a life. He had belonged.
But when his family moved to the U.S., everything changed. The language was different. The streets were different. He was different.
On his first day of school, he didn’t understand a word anyone said. The teacher spoke too fast, the students whispered behind his back, and when someone cracked a joke and the room burst into laughter—he laughed too.
Because what else was he supposed to do?
Except… they weren’t laughing with him.
They were laughing at him.
And when he realized, it was too late.
The bullying didn’t stop. It only got worse.
They mocked his accent.
They made fun of the way he struggled to find the right words.
They turned his name into a joke.
Deigo tried to fight back at first, but it didn’t matter what he did. If he spoke, they mimicked him. If he stayed silent, they still found ways to humiliate him.
So he learned to fake it.
To smile when it hurt.
To laugh along when they tore him down.
To pretend it didn’t bother him, even when it did.
No one noticed when the real Deigo started to disappear.
No one saw when his laughter turned hollow.
No one cared that the boy who once wanted to be heard now wished he could fade away.
One night, after another day of pretending he was okay, Deigo found himself wandering the streets. He didn’t know where he was going. He just… walked.
Until he heard it.
Laughter.
But not the kind he was used to.
This laughter was slow. Wrong. Like it had been stitched together from something broken.
He turned—and froze.
A figure stood beneath a streetlamp. A clown.
His face was painted white, his lips curled into a perfect, eerie smile. His eyes were dark, endless pits—like they had swallowed every tear ever shed.
“Why so sad?” the clown murmured.
Deigo took a step back. “I—” His throat felt dry. “Who… are you?”
The clown tilted his head. “Just a friend.”
Deigo shuddered. He had heard that before. The same thing bullies said before humiliating him.
But this was different.
Because when the clown smiled, it didn’t feel mocking. It felt… knowing. Understanding.
“I see you,” the clown whispered. “I hear you.”
Deigo’s chest tightened. He didn’t want to listen. But no one had ever said those words to him before.
The clown took a step closer. “You laugh when you want to cry. You speak when no one listens. You exist in a world that refuses to see you.”
Deigo’s vision blurred. His hands trembled.
“You don’t have to pretend anymore,” the clown murmured. “Come with me. I’ll take you somewhere where no one can hurt you. Somewhere where the laughter is real.”
For the first time in forever, Deigo let his smile fade.
For the first time in forever, he considered saying yes.
The streetlights flickered. The air grew colder. The world around him shifted.
And suddenly—he was somewhere else.
Somewhere where the laughter never stopped.
Somewhere he might never escape.
The Midnight Carnival.
And Javier was the newest act in the show.
[[Back->Character Codex]]<img src="images/Kyara.jpg ">
Kyara never thought her family would fall apart.
Sure, her parents fought sometimes, but whose didn’t? They always made up in the end, right? Right?
She was wrong.
One night, she overheard them arguing—the final argument. The one where her mom said she was leaving. The one where her dad didn’t try to stop her.
The one where her world collapsed.
She stood frozen in the hallway, unable to move, unable to breathe. Then she heard it.
Her mom’s voice—cold, sharp, final.
“She’s better off without you.”
And her dad’s quiet reply.
“She was never supposed to happen.”
Her heart stopped.
Never supposed to happen.
The words drilled into her skull, echoing over and over. She felt sick. She wanted to scream, to cry, to make them take it back—but she didn’t.
She just… ran.
Kyara didn’t know where she was going.
Her feet pounded against the pavement, her breath coming in sharp gasps. The streetlights flickered overhead, casting long shadows that stretched toward her like claws.
She didn’t stop.
She couldn’t.
All she knew was that she had to get away.
Then, in the distance, she saw it—a massive circus tent, rising against the night sky like it had always been there.
She slowed.
There was no carnival in town. She would’ve known. And yet… the tent stood there, silent, waiting.
A sign swayed in the breeze:
“The Midnight Carnival – A Show Like No Other!”
A faint whisper curled through the air.
Come inside. We’re waiting.
Something was wrong. She knew that.
But she had nowhere else to go.
So she stepped inside.
The moment she entered, the world seemed to shift. The air felt heavier. The lights flickered. The silence wrapped around her like a second skin.
Then—a slow, rhythmic clap.
Kyara’s blood ran cold.
A figure emerged from the shadows, his painted white face gleaming under the dim circus lights. His lips were stretched into a perfect, frozen grin. His eyes—red, hollow, knowing—locked onto hers.
“Poor little runaway,” he murmured. “Didn’t like what you heard?”
Kyara stumbled back. “W-who—?”
The clown chuckled, tilting his head. “They don’t want you.” His voice slithered through the air, wrapping around her like a noose. “They never did. But don’t worry…”
A gloved hand reached out.
“…I do.”
The last thing she saw was the clown’s smile, stretching wider—impossibly wide.
Then, everything went black.
When she woke up, she wasn’t outside anymore.
She was somewhere else.
Somewhere cold.
Somewhere where the laughter never stopped—but it wasn’t happy.
It was twisted. Mocking.
Kyara wasn’t running anymore.
Because the Midnight Carnival never lets its performers leave.
And the show had just begun.
[[Back->Character Codex]]The silence between them stretched, but it wasn’t comfortable. It was heavy. Tense.
Kyara’s footsteps slowed as something caught her eye—a small, dirty plushie lying abandoned on the cracked pavement.
Her breath hitched.
She hesitated before crouching down and picking it up. The fabric was worn, the once-soft fur matted with dirt. Its floppy ears bent at odd angles, and the seams were slightly frayed.
A rabbit plushie.
Her fingers tightened around it as something inside her chest squeezed.
Then, like a ripple in still water, a memory flickered to life.
*She was small—no older than five. Sitting on a carpeted floor, her legs crossed. Warmth wrapped around her as her father knelt in front of her, holding out the plushie with a gentle smile.
''''"For you, Kyara. Something to keep you company when I’m away."''''
Her tiny hands had eagerly grabbed it, pulling it close to her chest. She had giggled, hugging it tightly, feeling safe.
''''"Daddy, you’ll come back soon, right?"'''' she had asked, tilting her head.
Her father’s smile had softened, but there had been something else in his eyes—something sad.
''''"Of course, sweetheart. I always will."''''
Then—
~~Darkness.*~~
The memory fractured, dissolving like dust in the wind.
Kyara blinked rapidly, her grip on the plushie tightening as she came back to the present.
Why couldn’t she remember more?
Why did it feel like something was missing?
[[next-]]A lump formed in her throat as she traced her fingers over the plushie’s tattered fabric. It was a remnant of something—someone—important. But she couldn’t grasp the full picture, only the edges of it, blurred and slipping through her fingers like sand.
A deep inhale sounded beside her.
She turned, finding Asher standing still, his gaze locked onto something on the ground.
A small, dust-covered painting rested against a broken crate. The image was simple—a lake scene, its waters painted in soft blues and greens. The sky above it was a pale golden hue, like it had been frozen in the moment before sunset.
Asher wasn’t moving.
Kyara took a step closer. “Asher?”
His fingers twitched, his jaw tight. He reached out, brushing the edge of the painting with his fingertips.
Then—
The world around him blurred.
*The scent of water, fresh and crisp, filled the air. The sun was warm against his skin. The sound of laughter—soft, familiar—echoed through his mind.
A girl stood near the lake’s edge, her feet dipping into the water.
His sister.
Her laughter was like a melody, bright and full of life.
"Asher, come on!" she called, splashing water at him.
He had rolled his eyes but smiled, stepping forward—
Then the laughter cut off.
The air turned cold.
The lake was no longer calm. It was churning. Dark waves pulled at his sister, her eyes wide with fear as she reached for him—
"Asher!"
His chest tightened. His hand had stretched out, desperate, too slow—
The memory shattered.*
Asher inhaled sharply, stumbling back a step, his heart pounding.
Kyara’s eyes widened. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Asher clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. His gaze was fixed on the painting, but it wasn’t really there. He was somewhere else, trapped in something only he could see.
Kyara hesitated before stepping closer. She knew that look. The same lost, searching expression she probably had a minute ago.
“…You remembered something,” she said quietly.
Asher swallowed hard. “…Yeah.” His voice was rough, strained. “It’s not… it’s not clear. Just pieces.” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “But it was her. My sister.”
Kyara glanced at the painting, then back at him. She didn’t push for more details.
Instead, she held up the rabbit plushie. “I think I remembered something too.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, Asher let out a breath and muttered, “Guess this place is screwing with our heads.”
Kyara nodded. “Yeah.” She looked back down at the plushie. “But at least it’s giving us something back.”
It wasn’t enough.
But it was a start.
With that, they kept walking—each of them carrying a piece of their past, trying to fit the puzzle back together.
[[Next-]]The cracked pavement led up to a worn-down, one-story building, its faded walls streaked with grime. The windows were dark, some shattered, others boarded up as if trying to keep something out.
But the door—
It was open.
Just slightly.
A cold breeze seeped through the gap, carrying the scent of dust and something metallic, something old.
Kyara slowed, her instincts screaming at her to stop. “We don’t know what’s in there.”
But Asher?
He didn’t even break stride.
“It could be people!” he called over his shoulder, already rushing forward.
Kyara clenched her jaw. “It could be bad people,” she muttered, jogging after him.
Asher shoved the door open the rest of the way. The hinges groaned, the sound echoing through the still air.
The room inside was dimly lit by a single, flickering bulb. Shadows stretched unnaturally along the walls, shifting as the light wavered. The air was thick—stale, damp, and carrying the faintest trace of something sharp, like rust or old machinery.
The first thing Kyara noticed was the silence.
The second?
The pair of figures standing dead still in the middle of the room.
A girl and a boy, both around their age.
The girl had deep brown skin and thick curls pulled into a ponytail, her arms crossed as she eyed them with a mix of suspicion and exhaustion. The boy beside her stood a little taller, his dark, tousled hair casting shadows over his face. His expression was unreadable, but his posture was tense, like he was ready to run or fight at any second.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then the girl broke the silence.
“…Oh, great. More of us.”
Kyara stiffened. More?
Asher frowned. “What do you mean?”
The boy exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You showed up out of nowhere, right? No idea how you got here?”
Kyara and Asher exchanged a glance.
“…Yeah,” Asher admitted slowly.
The girl scoffed. “Same here. And if you’re hoping we have answers, don’t bother.”
Kyara’s grip on her rabbit plushie tightened. “So… you don’t know where we are either? Do you know your names?”
The boy—Diego, she guessed—shook his head. “I'm Deigo, and that's Kaelani." He motioned towards ther other girl. "And as for the other part, nope. Just woke up here one day.”
Kyara’s stomach twisted. “How long?”
Diego hesitated. Then, in a voice just above a whisper—
“…Too long.”
A chill ran down her spine.
Something about this place felt wrong.
Not just the building. Not just the strange way they had all ended up here.
The air itself felt… off.
Like they were being watched.
Kyara glanced at Asher, whose shoulders had tensed. He felt it too.
The girl—Kaelani—sighed. “Well, since you’re stuck with us, you might as well make yourselves useful.”
Kyara swallowed hard, glancing at the dark corners of the room, the hallway stretching beyond it, the shadows that didn’t quite sit right.
Yeah.
This was only the beginning.
And she had a feeling things were about to get a whole lot worse.
[[Next...]](bg:(gradient: 0, 0,#000000,0.5,#7f19e6,1,#000000))[Welcome to the Midnight Circus]
[[Now...let's begin]]Kyara swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around her rabbit plushie as she forced herself to step forward. The air in the room pressed down on her, heavy and wrong, like something unseen was curled up in the shadows, waiting.
Asher, ever fearless, only looked more determined. "Alright," he said, glancing between Diego and Kaelani. "If we’re stuck here, we might as well figure out what’s going on."
Kaelani snorted. "Good luck with that. We’ve been looking for answers since we got here."
Kyara hesitated. "And?"
Diego's jaw tightened. "And we haven't found much. The whole place is a maze. Some doors lead to dead ends, others change where they go when you’re not looking."
A chill ran down Kyara’s spine. "That’s not possible."
Diego just looked at her. "Tell that to the hallway behind you."
She turned—only to freeze.
The doorway they had just come through?
Gone.
In its place was a wall of cracked, peeling paint.
Her breath hitched.
"No way," Asher muttered, spinning around. "That was open a second ago—"
"Welcome to the funhouse," Kaelani said dryly.
Kyara's chest tightened. This wasn't just some abandoned building. This was something else.
Something worse.
She forced herself to focus. Panicking wouldn’t help. "Is there a way out?"
Kaelani and Diego exchanged a look.
“…Maybe," Kaelani admitted. "But if there is, we haven’t found it yet."
Kyara’s stomach twisted.
Then, from the hallway beyond the room—
A sound.
Soft. Scraping.
Like something dragging across the floor.
Then, a whisper.
Too faint to make out.
Kyara's blood turned to ice.
Asher’s head snapped up. "What was that?"
Diego’s expression darkened. "Something you don’t want to meet."
Kaelani moved fast, grabbing Kyara’s arm and yanking her forward. "We need to go. Now."
Kyara barely had time to process before she was being pulled toward another doorway.
The whispering grew louder.
Then—
The light flickered once.
Twice.
And then, it went out.
The room was swallowed by darkness.
She could faintly hear Kaelani's yell. "Run! Both of you, now!"
And something in the shadows…
Breathed.
[[Follow Kaelani and Diego]]
[[Stay and face whatever's coming]]
(text-colour:#212529)+(bg:#c92a2a)[[[Character Codex]] ]Kyara lets Kaelani drag her forward, trusting that they know the safest way out. Asher follows close behind, their footsteps echoing in the darkness.
They move fast, twisting through a maze of hallways, each one looking eerily similar to the last. The whispers chase them, growing louder, more insistent.
Then, Kaelani yanks open a rusted metal door, shoving Kyara inside. "Close it, now!"
Asher slams it shut just as something thuds against the other side.
Silence.
Diego exhales shakily. "That was close."
They turn to look around, only to find themselves in an unfamiliar room—this one different from the abandoned halls they'd seen before. The air is warm, the walls lined with strange symbols glowing faintly in the dark.
But the room is empty.
No furniture. No objects. Just the pulsing glow of the symbols and an eerie stillness that settles over them.
Kaelani’s expression tightens. "This… this wasn’t here before."
Kyara swallows hard. The air feels thick, charged with something unseen.
Then, the symbols flicker—once, twice—before a deep, resonating hum fills the room.
Something is coming.
[[next..]]
(text-colour:#212529)+(bg:#c92a2a)[[[Character Codex]] ]Kyara wrenches her arm free from Kaelani’s grip. "No. We need to see what it is."
Asher blinks. "What?"
She takes a step back into the shadows. "We can't just keep running. What if it knows something? What if it’s not dangerous?"
Kaelani curses under her breath. "This is a bad idea—"
Too late.
The whispers shift, almost… curious.
Then, from the dark, something moves.
A figure steps into the dim light—a girl, barely older than them. Her clothes are torn, her hair matted, her wide eyes glowing faintly in the dark.
Kyara’s breath catches.
"Who are you?" she asks.
The girl tilts her head. Then, in a raspy whisper—
"You don't belong here."
Kyara's heart pounds. "Where is here?"
The girl blinks slowly. Then, her lips curl into a hollow smile.
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
The light flickers.
And suddenly, the girl is right in front of her.
Too close.
Too fast.
The last thing Kyara hears is Asher shouting her name—
Then, the world goes black.
[[next.]]
(text-colour:#212529)+(bg:#c92a2a)[[[Character Codex]] ]Kyara couldn't breathe. The darkness, it surrouned her. Trapped her. Suffocated her.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out everything.
Then...she felt the impact of landing on solid ground. She winced at the sharp sting of the floor against her body, the landing sending a jolt of pain through her.
She quickly stood to her feet, gulping in breaths like she was starved from it. In reality, she probably was. She had bee falling through complete darkness for...god knows how long.
She turned, looking at her surroundings. An empty room, with pitch black walls and a small desk. On the desk...were a few strange objects.
Kyara tilted her head curiously, taking a step closer to get a closer look at the items.
Kyara's fingers hovered over the objects, her pulse hammering in her ears. There was something unnatural about them, something that made her feel like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to fall all over again.
She swallowed hard and reached for the pocket watch first. The moment her skin made contact, a sharp jolt ran through her arm. The watch's glass face cracked, and the hands inside spun backward at an impossible speed. A chilling whisper filled the room.
"Not yet."
Kyara yanked her hand back, her breath hitching. She clenched her fists, willing herself to stay calm. Whatever this was, it wasn’t normal.
Her gaze flickered to the vial next. The blue liquid inside swirled, as if aware of her presence. She carefully lifted it, tilting it slightly. The glow intensified. A low hum vibrated through the air, growing louder.
Panic clawed at her chest.
She quickly set the vial down and turned to the book. It was old, its leather cover cracked with age. With shaky hands, she flipped it open.
The pages weren’t blank.
A single sentence was scrawled across the first page in deep red ink:
"Make your choice wisely, or you will fall again."
Kyara’s blood ran cold. She took a slow step back, her breathing ragged.
The pocket watch let out a sudden, loud click.
The vial pulsed.
The book’s pages turned on their own.
[[next....]]
(text-colour:#212529)+(bg:#c92a2a)[[[Character Codex]] ][[Congratulations...]][[You made it to Chapter 2...]]You've unlocked the (text-colour:#c92a2a)+(bg:black)[[[Character Codex]] ]
[[Next---]][[Chapter 2]]
(text-colour:#212529)+(bg:#c92a2a)[[[Character Codex]] ]The hum grows louder, vibrating through the walls, the floor—through them. Kyara's breath catches as she grips Kaelani’s arm.
“What’s happening?” Asher whispers, his voice barely audible over the rising sound.
The glowing symbols pulse in an erratic rhythm, shifting, rearranging themselves like they’re alive. The temperature in the room rises, sweat beading on Kyara’s forehead.
Then—
The symbols stop moving.
The hum cuts off.
And in the silence that follows, the walls begin to melt away.
Kyara’s stomach lurches as the solid structure around them dissolves into swirling darkness, stretching outward into nothingness. The floor remains beneath them, but the space around them is endless, infinite—like they’ve stepped into the void itself.
Diego curses under his breath. “This is bad. This is really bad.”
Then...slowly, very slowly, the light startes to fade into the room, giving the teens their surrounding. A tent...a large tent. It looked like...like a perfomring stage. An old circus stage.
Kyara’s heartbeat pounds in her ears. There are no doors. No hallways. No escape.
Then, out of the darkness, a voice—sharp, distant, yet echoing from everywhere at once.
"Welcome...to the Circus Tent. "
Kyara shivers. She doesn’t know what’s worse—the fact that something is watching them...
Or the fact that it's the same clown as before, holding a knife and standing on the tightrope with the same wide smile, blood dripping down from his knife.
[[NEXT]]
(text-colour:#212529)+(bg:#c92a2a)[[[Character Codex]] ]What do you choose?
[[Pocket watch]]
[[Vial]]
[[Book]]
(text-colour:#212529)+(bg:#c92a2a)[[[Character Codex]] ]Kyara’s fingers trembled as she picked up the pocket watch. The cracked glass shuddered, and the hands inside spun backward at an impossible speed. A pulse of energy rushed through her veins, making her stumble. The room around her twisted, the darkness peeling away like paper.
Then—she fell.
The impact knocked the air from her lungs. She coughed, pushing herself up. The scent of damp earth and rust filled her nose. Grass prickled against her palms. Lanterns flickered in the distance, casting eerie golden light against towering striped tents.
Kyara’s breath hitched.
She knew this place.
The haunted circus.
A chill ran down her spine. She turned, scanning the empty pathways between the tents, but the silence was suffocating.
Then—
"Kyara?"
Her heart nearly stopped.
She spun around and saw Kaelani standing a few feet away, her wide, dark eyes filled with disbelief. Her curly hair was tangled, her clothes dirt-streaked and torn, but it was her.
Kyara’s legs moved before she could think. "Kaelani!"
She barely had time to react before Kaelani launched forward and pulled her into a crushing hug. Kyara clung to her, overwhelmed by the relief flooding through her.
A second later, another voice—deep, familiar—spoke from the shadows.
"You actually made it."
Kyara pulled away just as Diego stepped into the dim light. His usually confident smirk was gone, replaced by something wary.
"Diego…" Kyara swallowed hard. "What happened? I—I’ve been trying to find you all, but I—"
Another voice spoke up from behind her, cutting her off.
"Princess...? You're...you're alive!"
She turned, just to met with another bone-crushing hug from Asher.
"I thought you were dead..." he whispered, his voice a mix of relief and fear.
"It’s not safe here," Kaelani interrupted, glancing over her shoulder. Her voice dropped. "The ringmaster knows you’re here now."
Kyara tensed. "The—what?"
A slow, deep chuckle echoed from the darkness beyond the tents.
"Welcome back, little runaway."
Kyara’s fingers tightened around the pocket watch just as the glass shattered in her palm.
The circus had found her.
And now, there was no turning back.
[[Next--]]
(text-colour:#212529)+(bg:#c92a2a)[[[Character Codex]] ]Kyara hesitated only a moment before picking up the vial. The blue liquid inside pulsed in response, swirling faster as if reacting to her decision.
She pulled out the cork.
The hum in the air turned into a high-pitched ringing. The liquid inside bubbled violently. She had barely a second to realize her mistake before the vial exploded in her hands.
A rush of freezing energy surged through her veins. She gasped, stumbling back, her vision swimming with strange, distorted colors. The walls of the room wavered like a mirage, and suddenly, she was no longer there.
She was standing in a vast, empty wasteland.
The sky was a swirling mass of dark blues and blacks, streaked with silver. The ground was cold and glass-like, reflecting her own bewildered expression.
Then, she saw them.
Figures, shadowy and blurred, moving around her. They whispered, voices blending together in an eerie symphony.
She understood, somehow.
The vial had transported her somewhere beyond time and space—a prison for those who had made the wrong choice.
Her heart pounded. No. No, no, no.
She turned, searching for an escape. There was none.
The figures closed in, reaching for her.
Kyara screamed—
And then there was silence.
The wasteland remained.
But she was gone.
[[The end]]
(text-colour:#212529)+(bg:#c92a2a)[[[Character Codex]] ]Kyara hesitated before reaching out to the book. Something about it felt final, as if this choice couldn’t be undone.
With a deep breath, she flipped it open.
The pages turned rapidly on their own, stopping at a single phrase written in deep red ink.
"Find them before the final act."
A sudden gust of wind slammed into her, yanking her forward. The room dissolved in a blur of shadows and light.
Then—she was somewhere else.
The roar of an audience filled her ears. The scent of sawdust and popcorn was thick in the air. Blinding stage lights shone down from above.
Kyara’s stomach lurched. She was inside the circus tent.
A crowd surrounded her, cheering wildly. But something was wrong. Their faces were wrong—blurred, shifting, like living masks that twisted and flickered in and out of focus.
Then, on the stage—
Kyara’s breath caught.
Kaelani stood at the center, dressed in a dazzling dancer’s outfit. She twirled gracefully, but her movements were too perfect, her limbs stiff, mechanical—like a puppet on invisible strings.
Beside her, Diego stood juggling glowing knives, his expression blank, his body moving in perfect, unnatural rhythm.
"No…" Kyara whispered. "No, no, no."
She turned, desperate, scanning the crowd. Asher. She needed to find Asher.
A hand grabbed her wrist.
She nearly screamed—but then she saw his face.
"Asher!" she gasped.
He held a finger to his lips. "Kyara, listen to me," he whispered urgently. "The circus is alive. It’s been feeding on them. On all of us. If we don’t break the act, Kaelani and Diego will forget who they are forever."
Kyara’s chest tightened. The audience’s cheers grew louder, almost deafening.
She turned back to the stage.
Kaelani and Diego’s eyes flickered—just for a second. A moment of hesitation. A glimpse of recognition.
Kyara’s pulse pounded.
She had to break the illusion.
Before the circus took them for good.
[[Next.....]]
(text-colour:#212529)+(bg:#c92a2a)[[[Character Codex]] ]Kyara had only seconds to act.
She ran onto the stage.
The moment her foot touched the wooden boards, a ripple spread outward, distorting the air like a heatwave. The crowd murmured, restless.
Kaelani faltered mid-spin. Diego missed a catch, his knives clattering to the floor.
The music stuttered.
Kyara locked eyes with Kaelani, desperation clawing at her throat. “Kaelani, Diego—it’s me!”
Kaelani blinked rapidly, her smooth movements suddenly jerky, imperfect. Diego clutched his head, his expression flickering between confusion and pain.
The illusion was breaking.
The ringmaster’s voice rang through the tent, sharp and commanding. “Continue the performance.”
Kaelani stiffened. Diego’s eyes glazed over again.
“No, no, no—” Kyara grabbed Kaelani’s arm, forcing her to look at her. “It’s not real! You’re not a performer. You’re Kaelani. And Diego, you’re my friend. Please, you have to remember!”
Kaelani’s lips parted. A flicker of hesitation.
Then the ringmaster stepped onto the stage.
And everything stopped.
He loomed over them, his dark presence suffocating. The crowd held its breath.
“You are ruining the act,” he said, voice silky and full of venom.
Kyara squared her shoulders. “Then maybe the act needs to end.”
The book in her hands glowed. The pages turned wildly, ink bleeding across them in frantic swirls. A single word emerged in bold red letters.
“Break.”
The moment Kyara read it, the entire circus trembled.
The ringmaster’s face twisted in fury. “You foolish child—”
Kaelani gasped, as if suddenly waking up. Her eyes snapped to Kyara’s.
“Kyara?” she whispered.
The music cut off.
The ringmaster’s form wavered.
And then Diego’s voice, rough and confused—
“What the hell just happened?”
Kyara exhaled shakily.
They were waking up.
But the circus wasn’t going to let them go without a fight.
The tent walls began to collapse.
[[Next........]]
(text-colour:#212529)+(bg:#c92a2a)[[[Character Codex]] ]Kyara barely had time to react before Diego grabbed her wrist and yanked her backward. “We need to move. Now.”
The deep voice that had spoken—the ringmaster’s voice—echoed through the circus like a rumble of distant thunder. Shadows twisted at the edges of the tents, stretching unnaturally toward them.
“Where do we go?” Kyara asked, her pulse pounding.
Kaelani pulled her along, leading them toward a smaller, tattered tent near the edge of the carnival. “There’s a way out. But we have to get to the Mirror Room before the final act starts.”
Kyara frowned. “Mirror Room?”
Diego glanced over his shoulder, eyes scanning for movement. “It’s a portal. Kind of. It’s the only thing that can get us out before we’re stuck forever.”
Kyara’s stomach clenched.
Forever.
The three of them ducked inside the smaller tent, and Kyara sucked in a sharp breath.
It was filled with mirrors. Hundreds of them. They stretched from floor to ceiling, distorting their reflections in strange, unsettling ways.
Kaelani hesitated, then turned to Kyara. “The pocket watch. Do you still have it?”
Kyara looked down. The watch face was shattered, but the hands inside still twitched erratically.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Asher exhaled in relief. “Then we have a chance.”
Before Kyara could ask how, the mirrors around them shifted.
Their reflections… moved on their own.
Then the ringmaster’s voice boomed again, closer this time.
“Do you really think you can leave?”
Kyara’s blood ran cold.
Because in the mirrors, their reflections smirked—and stepped forward.
They weren’t alone.
[[next......]]
(text-colour:#212529)+(bg:#c92a2a)[[[Character Codex]] ]Kyara stumbled back as the reflections in the mirrors stepped forward, their smirking faces twisted into something wrong.
Kaelani and Diego grabbed her arms, dragging her away from the mirrors as the copies emerged—stepping out of the glass like ghosts peeling into reality.
“They’re us,” Kyara whispered, heart hammering.
“No,” Diego said, tightening his grip on her wrist. “They’re what the circus wants us to be.”
The reflections tilted their heads in eerie synchronization.
"Stay," they whispered in unison. "Stay, and perform."
Kyara clenched the broken pocket watch in her palm. The glass bit into her skin, but she barely noticed. “We have to get to the right mirror,” she said. “The one that leads out.”
Kaelani’s eyes darted around the room. “Easier said than done, all of them look the same.”
One of the reflections lunged.
Asher barely dodged, shoving Kyara behind him. “Not wasting time, just run.”
They bolted across the room, mirrors shattering around them as the reflections pursued. Glass sprayed across the floor, slicing through the air.
Then, in the center of the room, Kyara saw it.
One mirror wasn’t broken. It didn’t distort.
And inside, it showed an image of outside the circus.
The exit.
Kyara didn’t think. She grabbed Kaelani’s hand and threw the pocket watch at the mirror.
CRACK!
The mirror burst open into a swirling vortex.
No hesitation.
She jumped through—dragging Kaelani and Diego with her.
The last thing she heard was the ringmaster’s furious scream before they were falling again—
—except this time, they fell into the real world.
They hit the ground, coughing, gasping—
Free.
[[next.........]]
(text-colour:#212529)+(bg:#c92a2a)[[[Character Codex]] ]The ringmaster’s form flickered, his smug expression twisting into something angry. “You will not leave,” he growled.
Kyara tore another page from the book. The red ink pulsed, shifting into new words.
"Let the performance end."
She threw the page into the air—
—and the entire circus shuddered.
The tent ripped open like a paper illusion, the wooden stage splintering beneath their feet. The audience screamed as they vanished, their faceless forms unraveling into shadows.
Kaelani stumbled, gripping Diego’s hand. “It’s working!”
The ringmaster’s shadowy form lunged at Kyara.
She didn’t hesitate.
She threw the book into the fire at the center of the ring.
The flames roared to life, devouring the pages in seconds. The ink on the pages bled into the air, curling into red mist.
The ringmaster let out a horrible screech—before his form crumbled into smoke, sucked into the burning book.
Then—
Silence.
The circus was gone.
Kyara gasped, hands trembling as she looked around. They were no longer inside the tent. They were standing in an abandoned field, the only signs of the circus being tattered banners fluttering in the wind.
Diego let out a breathless laugh. “We did it.”
Kaelani grabbed Kyara’s hand, squeezing it tight. “We’re free.”
Kyara smiled, relief washing over her.
They were together.
And the circus would never take them again.
[[The end]]
(text-colour:#212529)+(bg:#c92a2a)[[[Character Codex]] ]Kyara hit the ground, coughing, as she tumbled through the shattered mirror.
Kaelani landed beside her, gasping for breath. The wind howled around them as the vortex behind them flickered, the pocket watch’s magic unstable.
But Diego…
Diego wasn’t there.
Kyara spun around, her heart slamming against her ribs. “Where’s Diego?!”
She looked back at the mirror—
—just in time to see Diego still inside the collapsing circus, gripping the edge of the frame, keeping it open.
“No—no, no, Diego, get out!” Kyara screamed, scrambling to her feet.
He smiled, but it was strained. His grip on the mirror frame shook. “Someone has to make sure it stays closed,” he said, voice rough. “You know he’ll find a way out if I don’t.”
Kyara’s stomach dropped. “You can’t—we’ll find another way!”
Diego’s smile softened. “Kyara… the circus took everything from me. I’m not letting it take anything else.”
The ringmaster’s form loomed behind him, his shadows clawing at Diego’s legs, trying to pull him back into the circus forever.
Diego gritted his teeth and looked at Kyara one last time. “Take care of Kaelani and Asher for me, yeah?”
Then—
He let go.
The mirror snapped shut with a final, echoing crack.
Kyara’s scream was lost to the wind.
The mirror in front of her was nothing more than shattered glass on the ground.
Diego was gone.
And the circus was sealed away… forever.
[[The end]]
(text-colour:#212529)+(bg:#c92a2a)[[[Character Codex]] ]Kaelani grabs Kyara’s wrist, her nails digging into her skin. “Tell me I’m hallucinating,” she whispers.
Diego shakes his head, his face pale. “Nope. That’s real. And that’s a knife.”
Asher takes a step back, nearly stumbling. “And he’s looking right at us.”
The clown tilts its head, the smile never fading. It lifts the knife to its lips, pressing a long, bloodied finger against the blade in a mock gesture of silence. Then, without warning, it moves.
One moment, it’s on the tightrope. The next, it’s gone.
A flicker of motion— behind them.
Kyara doesn’t think—she just moves, yanking Kaelani down as the knife swipes through the air where her head was just a second ago. A cold, sharp laugh echoes through the tent as the clown looms over them, its painted face cracked like porcelain.
“RUN!” Diego shouts.
But where? There are no exits, no openings—just the endless, suffocating darkness beyond the stage.
Then the floor shifts beneath them. The boards groan and buckle as the circus tent comes to life. The ground splits, swallowing the stage whole, and the four of them are falling—
Straight into the abyss.
Kyara’s scream is ripped from her throat as she plummets into the darkness. The others are falling too—Kaelani’s fingers barely brush hers before they’re yanked apart. Wind rushes past Kyara’s ears, her stomach twisting as if she’s been dropped from a skyscraper with no end in sight.
Then—impact.
She slams into something soft, the breath knocked out of her lungs. It’s not solid ground. It’s…fabric?
Kyara gasps, clawing at the material beneath her. It’s a net. A giant, tattered safety net stretched across the abyss, swaying under their weight.
“Asher? Diego?” she croaks, twisting her head.
“I’m here,” Asher wheezes, struggling to sit up.
Diego groans from somewhere to her left. “Alive… barely.”
Kyara scans the dim surroundings. The net is suspended far above the ground, stretched between towering wooden poles like part of an old trapeze act. Below them, the darkness clears just enough to reveal…mirrors. Dozens—no, hundreds—of mirrors forming a labyrinth beneath the net. Their reflections are warped, stretching and twisting like funhouse glass.
A low chuckle slithers through the air.
Kyara freezes.
That laugh.
She jerks her head up—and there, perched on one of the poles above them, is the clown. Its grin is wider now, impossibly wide, eyes glinting in the eerie glow of flickering circus lights.
With an unnatural grace, it lifts one hand, extending a pale, gloved finger—
And slashes the net.
Kyara has just enough time to suck in a breath before the ropes snap—
And they fall again.
[[NEXT-]]
(text-colour:#212529)+(bg:#c92a2a)[[[Character Codex]] ]Kyara’s breath comes in ragged gasps as the net tears apart beneath them—but this time, she’s ready.
She twists midair, reaching for Kaelani, and their hands lock tight. Asher and Diego aren’t far, each scrambling to grab onto whatever they can. But there’s no more safety net. No more tricks.
Only the final stage.
They crash onto a massive circus ring, the ground beneath them covered in faded red and gold sawdust. The mirrors that once formed a labyrinth rise around them like towering walls, creating an inescapable arena. The air is thick with the scent of old popcorn and something metallic—blood.
Then, with a slow, deliberate clap, he appears.
The clown lands gracefully in the center of the ring, knife still dripping red, eyes glowing with something far too alive. His smile is unchanged, but the cracks in his painted face spread, like he’s barely holding himself together.
"Welcome to the final act," he purrs. "I hope you’ve enjoyed the show… because now?"
His grin stretches. The lights above flicker.
"It’s time for the grand finale."
Kyara pushes herself up, heart hammering. They can’t run. They can’t hide.
They have to fight.
Diego wipes the sweat from his brow. "So, uh… anyone got a plan?"
"Hit first, think later," Kaelani growls.
Asher tightens his fists. "Yeah, well, let’s not die in the process."
The clown tilts his head, amused—then he lunges.
Kyara barely dodges as the knife slashes past her cheek, cutting a strand of her hair. Diego rolls, grabbing a broken wooden staff from the ground. With a yell, he swings—CRACK! The clown catches it with one hand.
"That all you got?" the clown wrenches the staff away, shattering it to splinters.
Kaelani rushes forward, snatching up a loose torch from the ring’s edge. She strikes it against the floor—//FLAME ERUPTS.//
The clown’s grin falters.
"Oh?" Kaelani smirks, twirling the torch. "Not laughing now, huh?"
The air trembles. The lights flicker violently. The clown hisses, and for the first time—his form distorts. His shape flickers between the painted, grinning mask and something else—something darker, more twisted.
Kyara’s eyes widen. "He’s not real. He’s—"
"A shadow," Asher breathes. "A memory of this place."
Kyara grips Kaelani’s free hand. "Then let’s end this."
With a yell, they charge.
Kaelani swings the torch, its fire illuminating the mirrors, reflecting back a hundred flames—surrounding the clown in light. He shrieks, backing away, his form warping further.
Diego and Asher grab ropes from the stage rigging, looping them around the clown’s arms, pulling tight. Kyara moves fast, snatching the fallen knife—his knife.
The clown’s eyes widen as she raises it high.
"You’re done."
With one final, forceful stab, Kyara plunges the blade into the ground.
Silence.
Then—
The mirrors shatter.
The tent begins to crumble, fabric peeling away to reveal an endless starless sky. The clown lets out a final, twisted laugh before his form dissolves into smoke, swallowed by the void.
And just like that—
The nightmare is over.
The four of them stand in the wreckage of the abandoned circus, the morning sun breaking over the horizon. No blood. No clown.
Just them.
Alive.
[[The end]]
(text-colour:#212529)+(bg:#c92a2a)[[[Character Codex]] ][[Let's see if you can make it out...]]
(text-colour:#212529)+(bg:#c92a2a)[[[Character Codex]] ]Thank you for playing! I hope you liked the game!
[[Restart->Welcome]]