Inside the Round Clam Diner, the strangely dressed clown immediately stood out from everyone else.
He wasn’t the cheerful red-nosed kind meant to entertain children at birthday parties or circuses.
His entire costume was black and white, with a tiny black top hat perched on his head and grotesque makeup exaggerating his already unsettling features.
There was no mistaking him.
This was Art the Clown.
Two young women named Tara and Dawn were sitting at another table nearby.
They were friends who had clearly been drinking earlier, and Art placed his large black garbage bag beside a seat before sitting directly across from Tara.
The moment Tara glanced toward him, Art noticed.
He rested his elbows on the table, clasped his hands beneath his chin, and gave Tara an exaggerated silent smile.
His dark eyes remained fixed on her while the corners of his painted mouth stretched upward.
The expression was so unnatural that Tara quickly looked away.
Fortunately, there were other customers inside.
Alaric Thomas glanced over his shoulder and recognized Art without needing the Ghost Card.
The silent black-and-white clown was one of the most recognizable modern horror killers, especially once the Terrifier movies became popular.
Seeing him appear in Round Clam was surprising, but Alaric wasn’t exactly frightened.
Art was brutal, sadistic, and incredibly difficult to put down, but physically he could still be fought.
In Terrifier, ordinary people had managed to hurt and temporarily overpower him even though killing him permanently was another matter entirely.
That supernatural resilience was what interested Alaric most.
Art’s history also went back further than Terrifier.
Alaric remembered him appearing in All Hallows’ Eve, where a mysterious VHS tape contained horrifying segments connected to the clown.
Art’s relationship with screens, recordings, and the supernatural had never been as simple as an ordinary serial killer carrying a knife.
That made the question of containment much more interesting.
Could Alaric simply beat him until the Ghost Card considered him containable?
Or would he need to deal with whatever supernatural force kept bringing Art back?
Jennifer followed Alaric’s gaze and looked at the clown for a few seconds.
Art’s ugly painted face and ridiculous little hat immediately destroyed whatever curiosity she might have had.
She turned back toward the menu because her mind was still much more interested in what she and Alaric would do after they finished eating.
Tara’s nervous reaction made Dawn look over as well.
Unlike her friend, Dawn became amused.
She stood and stumbled toward Art’s table before smiling at him.
“Hey, can I get a picture with you?” Art remained silent.
Dawn didn’t bother waiting for permission.
She dropped onto his lap, pulled out her phone, and immediately started taking selfies.
Tara stared at her friend in disbelief while Jennifer briefly stopped reading the menu and watched the scene.
Even Alaric had to admit Dawn possessed a level of fearlessness that bordered on suicidal stupidity.
Click.
Click.
Dawn grinned at the camera while Art remained completely motionless beneath her.
Then she reached up, lifted his tiny top hat, and accidentally flicked it against his forehead before laughing.
“Sorry!
One more.” She took several more pictures.
At one point, Dawn even pinched Art’s cheek and forced his face toward the camera.
Art simply stared at her without speaking, his painted smile somehow becoming even more unsettling.
Once Dawn finished, she casually thanked him and returned to Tara.
Tara immediately leaned toward her.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dawn rolled her eyes.
“What?
He’s a clown.” “He’s creepy.” “Oh, please.” Dawn waved dismissively toward Art’s table.
“What’s he going to do, chop me into pieces?” Alaric nearly choked on his drink.
Some people really did seem determined to insult fate directly.
Before Tara could continue arguing with her, Art stood and approached their table.
He silently reached into his pocket and produced a cheap toy ring before holding it toward Tara.
His exaggerated smile made it obvious that he expected her to accept.
Tara looked extremely uncomfortable.
She clearly wanted to refuse, but Art was standing close enough that openly provoking him felt even worse.
After a moment of hesitation, she extended her hand and allowed him to slide the little ring onto her finger.
Art seemed delighted.
Tara stared at the ring.
The clown had put it on her thumb.
That only strengthened her belief that something was seriously wrong with him.
Art cheerfully turned away and headed toward the restroom.
For several minutes, everything became quiet again.
Then shouting erupted from the back.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” The diner owner stormed out holding a mop while Art retreated ahead of him.
The man’s face was red with fury as he chased the clown toward the entrance.
“Get the hell out of my restaurant!” Art silently hurried toward the door.
The owner kicked Art’s black garbage bag after him and continued swearing.
The reason became obvious from his furious complaints: Art had deliberately smeared feces around the restroom.
It was one of the clown’s most disgusting habits, and apparently even this universe hadn’t spared Alaric from that detail.
Alaric immediately lost most of his appetite.
He had faced cannibal caves filled with corpses, blood, and human remains, yet there was something uniquely revolting about a grown killer deliberately decorating a bathroom with his own waste.
Art truly managed to be disgusting even before he started murdering anyone.
Jennifer wrinkled her nose.
“That’s nasty.” “Yeah.” Alaric pushed part of his meal away.
A few minutes later, he and Jennifer paid and left the diner.
Tara and Dawn walked out shortly afterward, still arguing about whether Art was harmlessly weird or genuinely dangerous.
Neither woman knew that their encounter with the clown had probably only just begun.
Alaric and Jennifer walked another block before he suddenly stopped.
Jennifer turned toward him.
“What’s wrong, honey?
Still hungry?” Alaric looked at her strangely.
“When did I become ‘honey’?” Jennifer immediately wrapped herself around his arm.
“I’ve already called you that more than once.
Would you rather I go back to ‘darling’?” In Jennifer’s mind, the issue was perfectly simple.
They had already kissed, she considered their relationship established, and she had basically decided she was moving into his house.
Calling him honey hardly seemed like a major escalation.
Alaric tried pulling his arm free.
Jennifer tightened her grip.
He gave up.
“Call me whatever you want.” Alaric glanced back toward the diner.
“I didn’t stop because I’m hungry.
I’m going back to check something.” Jennifer’s expression became puzzled.
“Check what?” “That clown.” “What about him?” Alaric looked directly at her.
“He’s probably something similar to what was inside your house.” Jennifer immediately stiffened.
After the Midnight Man incident, even mentioning ghosts or supernatural entities was enough to bring back memories of the black creature crawling through her home.
Her skepticism had disappeared completely.
Now she wished she had never mocked Alaric for believing in demons.
“You mean he’s supernatural?” “Probably.” Jennifer tightened both hands around Alaric’s arm.
“Then why are you going back?
Let somebody else deal with him.” Her voice became more serious as she added, “You almost got killed doing this once tonight.
Can’t we just go home?” In Jennifer’s opinion, pretending they had never seen Art seemed much more reasonable.
They could return to Alaric’s villa, lock the doors, get under the covers, and forget that murderous supernatural clowns existed.
After losing her house to the Midnight Man, Jennifer had developed absolutely no desire to participate in another exorcism.
Alaric shook his head.
“We were in the same restaurant with him, and he noticed everyone there.” He wasn’t completely certain Art had selected them as targets, but letting an immortal killer wander around Round Clam without investigating him would be foolish.
“If he decides to follow us, going home won’t solve anything.” Jennifer’s expression fell.
She genuinely couldn’t understand why Round Clam had suddenly become a supernatural disaster zone.
For the first time, moving somewhere else sounded attractive.
Alaric reached into his pocket and took out a set of keys.
“You go to my place instead.” Jennifer blinked.
“Didn’t you want to see the family estate?” Her eyes immediately brightened.
Then the fear returned.
“I don’t want to go alone.” “Call one of your friends.” Jennifer thought carefully.
“I think I still have one.” Alaric gave her an amused look.
“Perfect.
Call her and show off.
Tell her you’re currently the leading candidate for lady of the estate.” Jennifer narrowed her eyes.
“Why am I only a candidate?” Alaric didn’t answer.
There was already another complicated presence associated with the old estate—a beautiful witch tied to his childhood memories.
Explaining that to Jennifer right now would probably result in either jealousy or another supernatural panic attack.
Besides, Jennifer had become remarkably clingy.
If he scared her any further, she might physically refuse to let go of him.
The estate itself was different.
Alaric trusted that place.
His childhood memories gave him enough confidence that Jennifer would be safer there than almost anywhere else in Round Clam.
Whatever secrets remained around the property, he didn’t believe an ordinary wandering killer could simply enter and cause trouble.
Jennifer finally nodded.
Alaric called the estate’s longtime butler and asked him to come into town and pick her up.
Jennifer’s expression became increasingly fascinated as she listened to the conversation.
Apparently, the fact that Alaric’s family property had an actual butler made the whole thing seem even more aristocratic to her.
“Do you secretly have a title too?” Jennifer asked.
“No.” “You sure?” “Yes.” Jennifer clearly didn’t believe him.
It took some time before a dark car arrived to collect her.
Alaric explained where she was going and told the butler to make sure she remained at the estate until he returned.
Jennifer reluctantly climbed inside but lowered the window before they left.
“Come back soon, honey.” Alaric waved.
The car disappeared down the street.
Only then did his attention return completely to the problem behind him.
Art the Clown.
Alaric turned around and headed back toward the diner.
It was time to see exactly what this supposedly immortal clown was made of.