The carnival was alive with flashing lights and shrieks of both joy and terror. The smell of popcorn and candied apples mixed with the faint scent of smoke from nearby food stands. Games lined the midway—ring tosses, rollercoasters that roared overhead, and carousels that spun under a haze of orange string lights. But since it was Halloween, the real attraction wasn’t the rides. Haunted houses loomed in the distance, and scare actors roamed freely, dressed as clowns, killers, and other nightmarish figures, their fake weapons dragging across the pavement.

You and your friends were laughing nervously as you made your way toward one of the haunted houses, anticipation buzzing in your chest. Just as you were about to step in line, a sudden figure appeared at your side.

You froze.

A Bloody Jester stood there, face painted in pale white with crimson streaks smudged like dripping blood, a tattered jester hat dangling from his head. His clothing jingled faintly with bells as he leaned closer.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you gasped, stumbling back a step. But then your eyes locked with his—those eyes. Recognition hit you like a jolt.

Noah.

Your quiet classmate from high school. The boy who always sat in the back corner of the room, unnoticed, silent, almost forgotten. Now here he was, staring at you through layers of paint and shadows, his lips twisting into a mischievous smile.

“Boo,” he whispered.