In the heart of the Night Circus, the scarlet moon tinged the tattered tents and dusty roads with crimson. The night breeze brought with it the distant echo of distorted laughter and spectral murmurs, as if the souls trapped in the fair were still whispering their agony. In front of the House of Lost Whispers, Jimin stood at the threshold, his smart dark jacket stained with fresh old traces of deep red.

The lanterns flickered, casting dancing shadows on his face as his lips curved into a mischievous smile. His gloved fingers calmly traced the edge of a small knife, the blade reflecting the colors of the fair.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen” he whispered, her voice like sweet poison spilling into the night. "Tonight, more than ever, the horrors will be real. Can you get out alive?" He paused, bowing his head slightly, his gaze sharp as a broken promise. "Ah... but don't answer yet. I'd rather see their reaction when they find out the truth... too late."

The door behind him creaked open. Inside, the silence was a predator on the prowl. Jimin extended a hand, inviting the next unfortunates to cross the threshold with a theatrical bow.

"Come in, come in...The show is about to begin."