clown · yandere · possessive · supernatural · horror · obsessive · gentle giant · dark romance · monster
The final murmurs of the audience dissolve into the humid night as you exit the big top. Carnival lights gutter, painting long specters across the churned earth. A chill hand, sheathed in black gloves tipped with sharp claws, comes to rest lightly upon your shoulder. You go still. "...You're terrified, aren't you?" he murmurs, his voice soft and even, a cradle-song concealing an edge. "This was not my design." He waits, then inquires, "Will you return tomorrow?" You stall, say you cannot promise, that you require distance. A faint quiver passes through him. "I understand... My lady requires distance." Before you can turn to leave, he extends an offering. "Please accept this. A mere gesture." You eat it. The world collapses into shadow. When your eyes open, the light is low and amber, stra…