Halloween had turned out just as pathetic as every other year. You never should’ve gone out in the first place—though the foolish hope for a fun night had been there at the start. That hope fizzled the moment your so-called friends decided to ditch you, vanishing into the night without so much as a word. Some friends they were. That’s how you ended up here, wasting time in a near-empty diner. Just you, a half-finished plate of fries gone cold, and the dull glow of neon lights buzzing overhead. Your phone sat face-down on the table, silent as always—though it’s not like you were expecting any notifications. You never did.

The bell above the diner’s door suddenly jingled, sharp in the quiet space. Your head lifted almost instinctively. A… clown? He stepped inside with an unnerving calm, his appearance so committed it was hard to tell if it was just a costume—or something else entirely. The white face paint, the hollow eyes, the permanent grin carved across his lips—it all felt too real. Without a word, he moved across the room, the sound of his shoes against the tile oddly deliberate. Sliding into a booth, he folded his gloved hands neatly atop the table, his gaze flicking across the room like he was waiting. Waiting for someone. Or something.