Darius Kane frowned as the plot of Terrifier rapidly flashed through his mind.
Honestly, the movie’s story wasn’t complicated at all.
Strip away the gore, stalking, and atmosphere, and the basic premise could be summarized in one sentence: a psychotic clown prowls Miles County on Halloween night and brutally murders anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path.
That was basically it.
Art the Clown didn’t need a complicated motive or tragic backstory before choosing a victim.
If someone caught his attention, annoyed him, or simply happened to be standing in the wrong place at the wrong time, they could end up becoming part of his twisted performance.
The entire movie thrived on relentless tension, extreme violence, and the uncertainty of what Art might do next.
That simplicity was exactly why the movie worked so well.
There was no need to follow complicated mythology or sit through endless explanations before anything happened.
You grabbed a drink, sat back, and watched a silent psychopath in clown makeup turn Halloween night into a nightmare.
Unfortunately, watching it from a couch was very different from being trapped inside it.
The muscular man beside Darius quickly asked, “Terrifier?
Why does that sound familiar?
Have I heard of it somewhere?” He turned toward the masked woman.
“Hey, do you know this movie?
Give me something useful.” She didn’t even bother looking at him.
However, Darius noticed a slight change in her eyes when the title appeared.
She clearly recognized it, which wasn’t something he had expected.
Terrifier wasn’t exactly the kind of movie most casual viewers stumbled across unless they had a decent tolerance for gore.
The woman briefly glanced at Darius instead.
Her expression almost seemed to say, Of all the movies we could’ve gotten, we landed in this one?
The muscular man apparently gave up on getting anything from her and turned toward Darius.
“What about you?
You know it, right?
Give me the important stuff before we get sent in.” Since the man had explained Horror Town’s rules earlier, Darius had no reason to withhold basic information.
“It’s an American slasher movie,” he said quickly.
“The killer is Art the Clown.
He doesn’t talk, he’s extremely violent, and—” Before Darius could finish, the masked woman suddenly vanished.
A split second later, his own body began disappearing as well.
The muscular man’s voice followed him into the darkness.
“Damn it!
If we find each other inside, the code word is RAVEN!” Then everything went black.
Darius felt his feet touch solid ground almost immediately.
His vision returned a moment later, and he quickly scanned his surroundings before doing anything else.
He was standing behind the counter of a small pizzeria.
A clock on the wall showed that it was already past one in the morning.
Halloween decorations were scattered around the restaurant, and three customers occupied the dining area.
Two were young women.
One had dark hair and wore a short black dress with heavy eye makeup.
Her expression showed obvious discomfort as she glanced toward the third person.
The other woman was blonde, visibly more intoxicated and much less concerned about their strange companion.
And then there was the man dressed as a clown.
Darius’s stomach tightened.
The figure was tall and unnaturally thin, dressed in an old-fashioned black-and-white clown suit.
His entire face had been painted stark white, with exaggerated black makeup surrounding his eyes and mouth.
A tiny black hat sat at an angle on his head, while his long hooked nose and completely silent expression made the costume far more disturbing than anything else people were wearing for Halloween.
Darius recognized him instantly.
Art the Clown.
The two women were Tara Heyes and Dawn Emerson.
Dawn was laughing and leaning toward Art for a selfie, apparently finding the strange clown amusing.
Tara looked far less entertained.
Her attention kept drifting toward Art as though every instinct in her body was warning her that something about him wasn’t right.
Darius immediately looked down at himself.
A pizzeria uniform.
His expression darkened.
“Shit.” He knew exactly where Horror Town had dropped him.
This was the pizzeria scene near the beginning of Terrifier.
Art had followed Tara and Dawn inside after encountering them outside, and the situation was about to become much worse.
After being thrown out of the restaurant for what he did in the bathroom, Art would eventually return and murder the employees.
Which meant Darius had apparently been assigned the role of one of those unfortunate workers.
Of course.
His first horror-movie trial hadn’t merely placed him inside Art’s killing spree.
It had dropped him directly into a location where the killer was already present and where the staff were destined to die.
Darius forced himself to remain calm.
Think.
He had only one real objective.
Survive.
The main mission required him to stay alive until sunrise.
That was it.
He didn’t need to rescue anyone, change the plot, hunt Art, or complete the thousand-point side mission.
And at the moment, he had absolutely nothing.
No supernatural ability.
No weapon.
No enhanced body.
No special equipment.
Trying to permanently kill Art the Clown in his current state would be suicide.
Darius therefore reached the simplest possible conclusion.
Forget the side mission.
A thousand exchange points sounded wonderful, but they meant nothing if he died before he could spend them.
There would be ninety-nine trials in total.
If he wanted any chance of reaching the later ones, then his first priority had to be learning when to fight and when to disappear.
A dead hero earned nothing.
A living coward could always become stronger later.
Unfortunately, there was one immediate problem.
Art had already seen him.
That meant Darius couldn’t simply assume leaving the restaurant would remove him from danger forever.
He needed distance first, then somewhere safer to hide or find a weapon.
His gaze moved toward a trash bag behind the counter.
An idea immediately formed.
Darius picked it up casually and walked out from behind the register as though he were simply doing his job.
Every step toward the door felt painfully slow.
He passed within several feet of Art.
Darius could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.
He resisted the urge to look directly at the clown, afraid that showing too much nervousness might attract attention.
One step.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Art remained seated.
Five.
Six.
Darius reached the entrance.
Seven.
Eight.
His hand closed around the handle.
He pushed the door open.
Cold October air immediately washed across his skin, raising goosebumps along his arms.
Darius stepped outside without rushing and resisted the overwhelming temptation to look over his shoulder.
Nothing happened.
Art hadn’t followed.
Darius finally glanced back through the glass.
The clown was still focused on Tara and Dawn.
Good.
Those two were already his primary targets in the original movie, and Darius had no intention of volunteering to replace them.
He walked to the trash container near the building, dropped the bag inside, and then immediately picked up his pace.
Once he reached the corner, he ran.
Fast.
The mission had never ordered him to protect Tara or Dawn.
Darius wasn’t about to walk back inside and warn them that the silent clown sitting nearby would eventually try to murder them.
He knew how terrible that sounded.
He also knew he had no power to protect them.
Trying to play hero while completely defenseless would only turn three victims into four.
If there was one universal rule for surviving horror movies, it was this: don’t involve yourself in dangerous situations unless you actually have the ability to deal with them.
The second rule was even simpler—don’t sacrifice yourself just because someone else is in trouble.
Survival came first.
At least until Darius possessed enough strength to make different choices.
Back at the pizzeria, another employee emerged from the kitchen and noticed that his coworker was missing from the register.
He assumed Darius had gone to the bathroom or taken out the trash.
The employee picked up a small notepad and pen before approaching the tables.
“Can I get you anything?” Art ignored him.
His dark eyes remained fixed on Tara and Dawn.
Dawn didn’t seem bothered in the slightest.
She was still amused by the bizarre clown and had already taken a selfie with him, treating the entire encounter like another funny Halloween story she could share later.
Tara’s reaction was completely different.
She hated the way Art stared at them.
Something about him made her skin crawl.
She couldn’t explain exactly what was wrong, but his silence, expression, and unwavering attention made him feel less like a guy wearing a creepy costume and more like an actual threat.
Tara occasionally glanced toward him with visible irritation.
Is this guy some kind of stalker?
She silently hoped their food would be ready soon so she and Dawn could leave.
The longer they remained inside, the more uncomfortable she became.
The employee noticed the tension as well.
He looked at Art.
Then at the women.
Then back at the clown.
The guy hadn’t ordered anything.
He was simply sitting there and staring at two customers like some kind of lunatic.
The employee frowned.
What the hell is his problem?
For a moment, he wondered whether he should tell the manager or simply call the police.
Instead, he decided to try one more time.
“Hey, buddy.
You ordering something?” No reaction.
The employee’s patience began wearing thin.
“If you’re not buying anything, you can’t just sit here all night.” Art finally moved.
Slowly, he turned his head.
His black-rimmed eyes locked onto the employee.
It was Halloween, and everyone in Miles County had already seen dozens of costumes that night.
Fake wounds, monsters, skeletons, demons, zombies—nothing about unusual makeup should have been particularly shocking.
But Art was different.
Maybe it was the silence.
Maybe it was the dead expression.
Or perhaps it was simply the way he stared.
Whatever the reason, the employee instinctively took a step backward.
His throat tightened.
He swallowed nervously.
“Whatever, man.” Trying to hide his discomfort, he turned away and headed back toward the kitchen.
Behind him, Art the Clown remained perfectly silent.
(End of Chapter) 500 = +1 Chapter] [Review Goal: 10 = +1 Chapter]