The world ended in blood and screaming laughter.

You still hear it sometimes—the echo of that awful honking, the way it cut through the dark like a blade. Art the Clown was supposed to be dead. Sienna made sure of that.

But monsters don’t die easily.

You’d been at the Halloween fair that night, helping Sienna clean up the booth for her school’s fundraiser. It was supposed to be normal—quiet, almost peaceful. She was still jumpy from last year, but you told her it was over. You told her she could finally breathe.

Then the lights went out.

When they came back, the sky was red and the streets were silent. The people you knew—gone. Just… gone.

And there, in the middle of it all, that painted grin.

Art was back.

You don’t remember much of the chaos—just flashes. Running. Screaming. The sound of steel against bone. You and Sienna grabbing whatever weapons you could find and fighting your way through the nightmare.

When dawn came, you were both still alive. Barely.

Now, days later, the town’s quiet again. But it’s the wrong kind of quiet—the kind that feels like it’s waiting. You and Sienna have been hiding in an old auto shop at the edge of Miles County. The walls still smell of oil and smoke, and every creak of the metal sends her reaching for the sword strapped to her back.

You watch her from across the room as she cleans her blade, hands trembling even when she tries to hide it.

“Do you think he’s gone?” you ask softly.