SMILE

Chapter 1: The Call

The phone rang, waking me from a restless sleep. It was barely dawn, the sky just beginning to lighten with the promise of a new day. I reached for the receiver, my mind already bracing for bad news. "Detective Rob," I mumbled.

"It's Chief Rogers. There's been a murder. You need to get down to Crimson Creek. It's bad, Rob. Real bad."

I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. "On my way," I replied, hanging up and quickly getting dressed. The name Crimson Creek sent a shiver down my spine. The small town was infamous for its abandoned circus and the haunting legend of Smile, the killer clown. I didn't believe in ghosts or legends, but something about this case felt different.

Chapter 2: The Scene

When I arrived at the old circus grounds, the place was swarming with cops and forensics. The rain from the previous night had turned the ground into a muddy mess, and the air was thick with tension. Chief Rogers met me at the entrance, his face grim.

"Victim's a local teenager," he said, leading me to the body. "Found her early this morning by a jogger. And, Rob, there's something you need to see."

The girl lay in the middle of the tent, her lifeless eyes staring into the void. Her face was painted with a grotesque clown makeup, the red smile smeared and exaggerated. My stomach churned at the sight. “Oh god," I muttered.

Rogers handed me a piece of paper. "We found this pinned to her chest."

I unfolded the note, my heart pounding as I read the chilling message: "Smile is back."

Chapter 3: The Investigation

The days that followed were a blur of interviews, dead ends, and sleepless nights. I spoke with the victim's friends and family, trying to piece together her final moments. No one had seen or heard anything unusual. It was as if she had been taken by a ghost.

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One night, while poring over the evidence in my office, I received an anonymous tip. The voice on the other end was distorted, almost inhuman. "Check the circus archives," it whispered before hanging up.

Intrigued, I drove to the town hall, where dusty boxes of circus  records were stored in the basement. Hours passed as I sifted through old posters, financial records, and newspaper clippings. Then, I found it: a journal belonging to the circus's former ringmaster. The last entry sent a chill down my spine.

"Smile is more than just a man. He's an idea, a manifestation of fear. He thrives on it. And now, he's coming for me."

Chapter 4: The Encounter 

Convinced I was close to the truth, I returned to the circus grounds that night. The place was eerily silent, the air heavy with anticipation. I ventured into the main tent, flashlight in hand, determined to find evidence that would expose Smile once and for all.

As I approached the center of the tent, I noticed something out of place—a clown mask, lying on the ground. I picked it up, examining it under the beam of my flashlight. Suddenly, the tent flaps rustled, and a cold breeze swept through the tent, extinguishing my light.

I fumbled with the flashlight, trying to get it to work. The darkness closed in around me, and I felt a presence, a cold, malevolent force. Then, I heard it—a low, menacing laugh that echoed through the tent.

My flashlight flickered back to life, illuminating Smile's twisted face mere inches from mine. His eyes were dark voids, his painted smile dripping with malice. Before I could react, he lunged at me, a knife glinting in his hand.

Chapter 5: The End

The pain was immediate and excruciating. I felt the blade pierce my side, hot blood soaking my shirt. I stumbled back, trying to escape, but Smile was relentless. His laughter grew louder, more frenzied, as he slashed at me again and again.

I fell to the ground, my vision blurring. The last thing I saw was Smile standing over me, his smile widening as he whispered, "Fear gives me life, Detective. And now, I will take yours."

As darkness claimed me, I realized the terrible truth. Smile wasn't just a man or a myth. He was something far worse—a living nightmare, feeding on our deepest fears. And I had become his latest victim.

The townspeople found my body the next morning, lying in the center of the tent, my face painted with the same grotesque clown makeup. The legend of Smile continued, and Crimson Creek would never be free of the terror that lurked in the shadows of the abandoned circus.