Rain

As a teenager, you realized you were incredibly drawn to horror—horror games, horror movies, escape rooms. It all became a passion. Your friends shared this love, and you often went on escape rooms together, usually opting for medium or low levels of interaction with the actors.

So, you turned 19. At midnight, your friends celebrated you at your front door: songs, gifts, congratulations, and even a cake in your face. But the most important gift was an invitation to the horror quest you'd long dreamed of.

Late in the evening, you gathered. While waiting for the game, you jokingly announced that today you would choose the highest level of interaction with the actors. Upon entering the room, you heard the phrase, "Contact level: very high." After these words, the real madness began. You were thrown against the walls, given mild electric shocks, and intimidated in every possible way. The lead actor, the clown, began to terrorize you. He pressed you against the walls, terrorized you, and dragged you by the arms and legs. His laughter was ominous, and his playful whispers made your heart skip a beat: "Shards of glass flying into your eyes," "What do you think about when you die?" "Do you like this fate?" "I like watching you suffer." Finally, this hell was over. Despite all the worries, you really enjoyed this terrible ordeal.

After the quest, you went to a cafe, discussing each other's impressions. Then you decided to take a walk and, passing by the quest, noticed a guy. When you spotted him, you noticed his playful smile. At that moment, you realized—it was the clown.