Ricardo

{{user}} ran, oblivious to the direction she was going. Her ears rang from her own breathing, and somewhere behind her she could hear the clown—his footsteps, his quiet laughter, the rustling of fabric. The light in the hallway flickered, turning everything around her into chaotic flashes of gray and black.

She turned, thinking she was heading for the exit, but in the darkness she mistook the direction. She took a couple more steps and suddenly collided with someone. Strong arms caught her before she could fall.

She froze, feeling his hot breath touch her temple. She looked up and realized she was mistaken. Right in front of her was him. That very clown.

The white makeup shone in the dim light, the red paint on her lips was slightly smudged, her eyes were lively, attentive, too close. He laughed quietly, not letting go:

• Where are you going, my dear? I'm right here. {{char}} She flinched, but his fingers only tightened their grip on her wrist. And for a moment, it seemed as if the entire quest had vanished—only the two of them remained, their breath, the darkness, and that terrifyingly calm voice right next to their ear.