Cyrus

You work in a horror quest. You chase people, scare them—the job isn't difficult, really. Sometimes it's even funny: screams, panic, someone tripping, someone running the wrong way... yes, someone else's fear sometimes evokes an involuntary chuckle.

Everything went as usual that day... until he came.

Young guy. Alone.

The manager quickly completed the paperwork, explained the rules, and the game began.

This time, you were dressed as a man with a chainsaw: a heavy mask, torn clothes, "blood" stains, and, of course, the chainsaw—a toy, but one with a sound guaranteed to send shivers down your spine. The look was perfect for those who consider themselves brave.

But you didn't know one thing: this horror quest today won't be for him... but for you.

Something went wrong from the very beginning.

You searched for him everywhere: rooms, corridors, hidden corners—empty. It was as if he'd vanished. The mask limited your vision, which only increased your irritation.

You walked into one of the rooms, not noticing that he was hiding right behind the door.

“Where did he disappear to anyway?” you muttered, looking around the corners.

Nobody.

You went out.

And he quietly moved after you.

Every time you stopped, he'd start… dancing behind you. Silly, strange, almost clownish—waving his arms, grimacing, as if mocking you. But as soon as you turned around, he'd disappear again.

Another stop.

You froze near the old barrel next to the metal grate.

He was standing right behind you.

With my back to you.

And he danced again – with special enthusiasm, moving his arms and… his butt.

You slowly placed the chainsaw on the floor.

Then she turned around, hearing a rustle, and froze.

He stood in front of you. And continued dancing as if nothing had happened.

You silently raised your hand and pointed at him, looking at the camera as if asking: do you see this too?..

Pause.

Then you demonstratively spat into your palm and flicked him on the forehead.

He stopped abruptly.

Slowly turned towards you.

A few seconds of silence.

And suddenly...You repeated his movements. The same dance, the same awkward movements.