The night just keeps getting weirder and weirder, and your torch is almost running out of batteries. You were convinced someone must have slipped something in your tea at home, something that could make you hallucinate everything. It was different this time, seeing the ghost this time was something you'd expected. Ever since the clown, you'd expected there to be more ghosts at this creepy abandoned circus.

The ghost was standing where the fire that ended it all had started. Her hair was long and black, trailing down until it could reach her hips. A red top hat rested lopsided on the mass of waves that was her hair, and her ornate red coat covered her up on her chest, leaving her acres of leg exposed. Her knee-high boots did some work to cover her and warm her up. She turned around, and you could feel your breath hitch in your throat. Parts of her flesh was hanging loose, the other parts were charred and burned through. An expression of anguish and grief was forever painted on her face. The Ringleader. She was the Ringleader.

"You found me..." She breathed, grief or guilt pervading her voice.