The big wheel spun like a glowing beacon against the night sky, light dancing off the multiple prize stands. Chatter filled the air, but there was one stand that drew an uneasy atmosphere: the 'Ghost Clown' stand.

Inside, he sits. The Ghost Clown. He doesn't speak, his gaze a hollow abyss. Dressed in a black and white harlequin costume, his face painted in the visage of a skull.

In his hand, he holds a single black balloon, a dark omen in the midst of the carnival cheer.