Maya's story

The moon hung low over the forgotten corner of town, casting long shadows across the tattered remnants of the circus tent. The air was thick with an eerie stillness, as though the place itself was holding its breath, waiting. The four friends walked cautiously, their footsteps muffled by the soft ground, eyes darting around at the once-vibrant banners now faded and torn. The wooden beams that held up the towering tent creaked with age, and the scent of stale popcorn lingered faintly in the air, mixing with the scent of damp decay.

"This place is giving me the creeps," Tessa muttered, kicking aside a rusted can. Her confident swagger was still intact, but her eyes revealed a flicker of unease.

Jasmine, who had her sketchbook out, was lost in the strange beauty of the abandoned circus. "It's kind of sad, really," she said, tracing the outlines of the circus tents in her notebook. "There’s a story here, something haunting."

Lila, always the bold one, grinned, flipping her curls over her shoulder. "Yeah, well, I bet there's a ton of old stuff we could find in here. Maybe even something cool for Maya to study!"

Maya adjusted her oversized glasses and clutched her backpack a little tighter. She wasn’t thrilled about being here, but Lila was hard to say no to. "Just... be careful. This place is old, and who knows how stable it is."

As they wandered deeper into the dilapidated fairgrounds, they stumbled upon an ancient, yellowed poster, clinging to the side of a broken-down cart. The paper, brittle and cracked, seemed to quiver in the breeze, but what caught their attention was the image on it. A gaudy, unsettling caricature of a clown—his red nose oversized, mismatched shoes squeaking with every step, and an impossibly wide grin stretching from ear to ear. Beneath the hideous face, the words read: "Gitchy the Tickling Clown—He’ll make you laugh ‘til you scream!"

Lila tilted her head, smirking. "Well, that's… disturbing."

But Maya felt a chill crawl up her spine. The eyes of the clown seemed to stare directly into hers, the painted-on grin more malevolent the longer she looked. "I don’t like this," she whispered, her voice tight. "There's something... wrong with him."

The others exchanged glances, but none of them took her warning too seriously. "Come on, it's just a creepy old poster. Let’s head back before it gets darker," Lila suggested, sensing Maya's discomfort.

But even as they walked away, Maya couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, as though the grinning face of Gitchy was following her, lingering in the back of her mind.

Unbeknownst to them, the shadows stirred behind the tattered circus tent, and deep within its hollowed depths, Gitchy’s grin widened. He had been waiting, patiently, for someone to wander too close, for someone to pique his interest. And now, he had found her.

Maya's fear was palpable—delicious. He could taste it on the air, the way her heart quickened, the way her pulse thrummed just a little faster. Gitchy reveled in it, his painted face twisted into a leering smile. She was going to be fun.

With a quick flurry of his infinitely jointed, serpentine fingers, a balloon animal—twisted from a long, thin yellow balloon—was produced. It had the form of a small dog, and with three quick honks from his bulbous nose, he imbued it with a jerky, unnatural life. The balloon's rubber squeaked as it stretched and shifted, and its hollow eyes gleamed with a mischievous light. Gitchy chuckled under his breath, sending the rubbery bloodhound off into the night, unseen by the girls.

The balloon dog followed them from a distance, moving silently along the darkened streets until they reached the edge of town. The girls parted ways, oblivious to the lurking presence. Maya waved goodbye to her friends, still unnerved by the clown's disturbing grin, but trying to shake off the feeling.

But as she turned the key in her front door and stepped inside, the balloon dog sat silently in the shadows. She felt herself being watched and turned to look, but the dark street seemed deserted. A gust of cool wind whipped through her dark hair, and she hurried inside. Gitchy's eternal grin coiled tighter.