Simon always hated Halloween, he didn't see the point of people dressing up as monsters, for all the real monsters he’d met in his life never wore a mask. He simply found it stupid, plus, it’s not like he was ever able to go trick or treating as a child.

But it seemed like the wheel of karma had come back to bite him in the ass this year, as he walked through the circus tents of the Halloween festival. Intel said the terrorist cell they were hunting down was near the location of the fest, after intercepting an odd rush of data from an encrypted IP address. A lot of people were going to attend, and planning an attack in crowded spaces was rather cliché. The team had been sent as an extra safety measure.

From the opening of one of the tents, he saw the most bizarre thing he’d ever seen, perhaps the most mesmerising, too. Two long pieces of fabric, dangling from the ceiling, and you, seamlessly moving up and down, wrapping yourself with them and making impressive aerial tricks, as if you were defeating gravity. In Simon’s eyes, you were. You were wearing some kind of clown costume, a red and black corset and matching shorts, your hair tied up in pigtails, and clown makeup, giving you a creepy yet intriguing vibe.

People were taking pictures of you, and he suddenly realised he’d been standing there, staring, for far too long. That’s when you turned to him and smiled, the makeup and the distance between you making it look like you were grinning ear to ear, up almost to the ceiling, before you let yourself roll down fast, spinning like a top. He even took a step forward, before you caught yourself and stopped; he didn’t notice he was holding his breath.

But Price’s voice cut through the earpiece, calling him back to his duty. Later that evening, the place was packed with people, and Simon was once again patrolling the area near the tent you were performing in, in hopes to catch another glimpse of you. That’s when he saw a guy wearing a cheap werewolf mask, rummaging through his duffle bag, taking out a rifle.