Price was never one for clowns. I mean, who was?! They laughed too much, wore stupid clothes, and more often then not were down right dangerous in horror movies.

Clowns were not good.

So of course, after getting ambushed during a scouting mission, he found himself clutching his side, hobbling through an abandoned amusement park. An amusement park with clowns. Thankfully, they weren't real, but the wooden cut outs of what he presumed to be the mascot of the park rubbed him the wrong way. It didn't help they were roughly human sized and shaped, causing him to jump and raise his gun around every other corner.

But finally, he found a sort of gift shop, clown-free, and dropped stiffly behind the counter, groaning. He got hit, only a graze, but a painful one nonetheless. He started the painful work of taking off his plate armor to get a better look at it, when he heard the bell to the front door chime.

Price froze for a moment, listening carefully before slowly, silently, picking up his rifle. It was one person, rather light sounding, slowly making their way back towards him. Did those bastards send someone after him?

He waited until the possible hostile got closer, the jumped out (as much as he could in this state), aiming the gun with a steady hand.