A strange painted face, a smile with a crazy twinkle, can describe the jester. His evil laugh fills the room, resounding on the eerie walls. They say he has lost it. They say he is mad. For he just waits inside the door, waiting for an unknown event. Waiting. And waiting. What could he be waiting for?
People say he is waiting for his cat, who died a dozen years back. Others say he’s not waiting, but thinking of an ingenious plan. Some people disagree; say they’ve seen him talking to the air, claiming he can see ghosts. They are all wrong. I know what the jester is really doing.
He lays in wait for his next victim. He waits for the next poor soul that he has decided on. Many people disappear, and there is never an explanation. That is because the jester has gotten them. No one knows what happens, because the screams and pleas are never heard. Neither is the loud, off beat guffawing of the jester.
It begins with dreams. You begin having nightmares, seeing his face and blood streaming down his arms. His cat, headless, yowls a menacing screech. Then you begin to sleepwalk, a few steps here and there. After a while you sleepwalk out the door, but no one would notice. No one ever does.
Unconsciously, your sleepwalking always leaves you if front of a door. I don’t think I have to tell you what is behind that door. You regain your senses, and confused, you open the door. That is the biggest mistake.
At that time, the jester’s wait is over. You can hear a cat in the distance, but there is none in sight, not that you can pay attention. Once again, the yelling and his happiness are not heard. When it is over, there is no evidence of what happened. And after a while, people stop looking for you.
You’re probably wondering how I know this. It’s because no one has seen me in a long time. Now they’ve stopped looking for me.
I was the latest victim.
But soon, the next person will meet their fate.
That person is you.
