You sit in the floor of your room, staring at an antique jack-in-the-box that you had come across at a yard sale. You don’t know why you bought it, but something about it drew you to it.

You crank the handle, a distorted version of “Pop Goes the Weasel” plays, unsettling you a little. You tell yourself it’s just old— that’s the reason. The box pops open, startling you, and a thick cloud of black smoke comes out. You cough and bat it away. Nothing was in the box. You stare in confusion but decide to put the box away for now.

Later on that night after a series of nightmares, you wake up, heart racing. You try to calm down but can’t shake the feeling of something watching you. You slowly turn around, and nearly scream at what’s behind you. A monochrome clown staring down at you.

“Hiya, doll.” He lets out a bark of laughter.