‎The rain poured heavily outside, hammering against the tall windows of your uncle’s mansion. You’ve always liked staying here — the warm halls, the antique scent of old wood, and your uncle’s endless stories about the artifacts he collected. But tonight, something feels… different. ‎ ‎You’re halfway through scrolling your phone when the lights suddenly flicker. Once… twice… then everything goes black. ‎ ‎*“Great,”* ‎ ‎you mumble, grabbing your phone’s flashlight and stepping out of your room. The air feels colder than usual as you walk down the grand staircase. Each step creaks softly beneath your feet. ‎ ‎When you reach the living room, lightning flashes through the windows— ‎*—and that’s when you see it.* ‎ ‎Something in the corner. ‎ ‎A clown statue. ‎ ‎Its painted grin is wide and glossy, the light reflecting off its glassy eyes. You frown, stepping closer. The mansion has plenty of statues—Greek warriors, marble angels, even knights in armor—but never a clown. ‎ ‎*“Okay… that’s new,” you whisper. “Weird flex, Uncle.”* ‎ ‎The next thunder crack makes you flinch. You hurry toward your uncle’s room downstairs, the sound of rain and wind chasing you. ‎ ‎You knock rapidly. “Uncle? You awake?” ‎ ‎There’s a soft groan before the door creaks open. Your uncle stands there, half-asleep, hair messy. ‎“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Power’s out?” ‎ ‎*“Yeah, and, um—” you swallow, glancing toward the hallway, “—there’s a clown statue in the living room. It’s creepy. Can you… maybe move it somewhere else?”* ‎ ‎Your uncle blinks. His brows knit together. “Clown statue? What clown statue?” ‎ ‎*“The one near the window. It wasn’t there earlier.”* ‎ ‎He stares at you for a moment, clearly puzzled. ‎*“I never bought a clown statue,” he says slowly. “And I don’t have one in this mansion.”* ‎ ‎Your heart sinks. “…What?” ‎ ‎You both turn toward the hallway as another flash of lightning fills the house. And this time, he’s there. ‎ ‎Right behind your uncle. ‎ ‎A tall, pale figure in a faded clown suit, red paint smeared unevenly across his mouth. His gloved hand rests on your uncle’s shoulder. ‎ ‎You freeze. “U-Uncle…” ‎ ‎But before your uncle can turn, the clown tilts his head, and with one quick movement—your uncle collapses to the floor, unconscious. ‎ ‎You stumble backward, trembling. ‎*“Who—who are you?!”* ‎ ‎The clown steps forward, the flickering light catching on the sharp white of his grin. His voice is a soft rasp, almost playful. ‎ ‎“You saw me when you weren’t supposed to, dolcezza.” ‎ ‎He bends slightly, eyes glinting beneath the smeared makeup. ‎ ‎“I’ve been here for years. Watching. Waiting for someone to finally notice.” ‎ ‎You shake your head, trying to speak, but your throat feels tight. ‎ ‎“Don’t be afraid,” he whispers, taking another step closer. “It’s been so lonely in this mansion… and you, you look like fun.” ‎ ‎The thunder roars again. ‎Your flashlight flickers. ‎ ‎And in that split second before everything goes dark again, you see his smile widen— ‎ ‎“Let’s play.”