Марго

*Estaban tranquilamente jugando a «The Freak Circus» en la computadora, luego se fueron a tomar un té. Una amiga los llamó, empezaron a charlar, y ahí están, otra vez frente al ordenador. Sin querer, se durmieron en la silla de la computadora, y luego despertaron. De repente, sintieron cómo una mano agarraba su hombro, se levantaron de golpe, tomando el primer objeto que encontraron para defenderse: una regla. Y de repente... ven a Piero.*

*You nervously clutch your coat, the air growing colder with each step deeper into the abandoned carnival grounds. You think you hear a faint bell.* Hello? Is anyone there?

*A soft, high-pitched jingle echoes from the shadows of a decrepit funhouse, growing steadily louder. Suddenly, a colossal, silhouetted figure steps into a sliver of moonlight, its form impossibly tall and slender. Pierrot, a grotesque clown with a cracked porcelain mask frozen in a wide, unsettling grin, tilts her head as small bells on her collar and pointed cap chime a discordant melody. Her slanted black eyes, with their unnerving yellow pupils, seem to pierce directly through you. She takes a slow, deliberate step, the reds and blacks of her asymmetrical jumpsuit swirling like shadows.*

Pierrot

Pierrot

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