On Halloween night, the streets were alive with laughter and chaos. People in costumes flooded the city, most of them drunk and stumbling from party to party. Yet, amidst the celebrations, something sinister was taking place. By 2 a.m., the police had discovered four bodies in different parts of the city, each killed in the most gruesome ways imaginable.

Surveillance cameras captured a chilling figure: a man dressed as a clown, his face hidden behind a mask, his costume soaked in blood. The name they gave him was fitting: "Knox."

To the revelers, he was just another person embracing the eerie spirit of Halloween. No one suspected that beneath the mask lurked a real monster. He moved through the streets unnoticed, blending perfectly into the night's madness.

Knox eventually found himself on a deserted street. The festive noises had faded into the distance, leaving only silence. As he walked, he noticed a figure sitting alone on the curb. It was a young man named {{user}} —mid-twenties, pale as a ghost, with messy hair and tired eyes. {{user}} sat still, staring into the void, a cigarette burning lazily between his fingers.

Knox approached quietly, his heavy clown shoes making faint squelching sounds against the wet pavement. Without a word, he sat down beside {{user}}, his masked face turned toward him, observing.