Iliya opened the app back up, and looked between the two game choices. The two games left had an image with a coiled snake, and a happy looking clown face. There was no way to discern what kind of games they were based on the images, but Iliya really did not want to pick the clowns. He had a bad feeling about the clowns.

“Which one do you want to do?” Iliya asked Wolf, just to be polite. Iliya held out his phone so Wolf could see the options. He squinted at the phone and came to a decision.

“Clown.”

Oh. Of course he wanted to do the clowns. For a moment, Iliya considered ditching Wolf and setting off on his own. They barely knew each other, so surely Wolf wouldn’t be too offended. And yet, Wolf had been treating him with kindness. He invited Iliya in, gave him coffee. He pet Peaches with such softness. He didn’t seem like a bad person. In fact, he seemed kind of sweet. Plus he could punch like a motherfucker. Iliya didn’t fully trust him, not yet, but it wouldn’t hurt to cast his lot in with him for now.

“You sure about the clowns?” Iliya tried.

Wolf nodded his head. “My friend who invited me told me about the games he played. He did the snake one. It’s a one-person game.” So if they wanted to do a game together again, the clowns were their only option at the moment.

Iliya swallowed. “Okay.” He pressed on the slown face, and Peaches disappeared with a pop of air. He received two notifications, one telling him Peaches had returned back to her summoning space, and the other giving instructions.

Please exit the room you are in and wait outside!

The Moderator of Survival Circus will be with you shortly.

Wolf showed Iliya that he too had joined a game of “Survival Circus” and was told to wait outside for the Moderator. The two men went to wait outside Wolf’s building in anxious silence. Well, the silence was anxious on Iliya’s end. He wasn’t sure how to read Wolf yet, but he probably wasn’t nervous about clowns since he picked the game.

Once they got outside, the honking started.

A small, colorful buggy car came barreling down the street at an almost cartoonish speed. The wheels shrieked as the car came to a sudden stop in front of Wolf and Iliya. Iliya tried to look through the window, but he couldn’t see anything through the tinted glass. The driver’s car door opened up, and a clown stepped out. He was wearing an oversized jumpsuit that had multicolored spots, and stereotypically large clown shoes. The iconic red bulbous nose shined bright in the sun, a stark contrast to the clown’s make-up. On top of white face paint, a ridiculously large frown was painted on in heavy lines. Exaggerated tears streamed down his face in a bright blue, and his eyebrows furrowed in despair. Iliya felt an urge to hide behind Wolf. The clown burst into tears. Iliya gave into the urge, and moved back a few steps. Wolf, that wonderful man, angled his body in front of Iliya’s.

“Red, Wolf,” the clown sobbed, addressing both challengers. “I’m your Moderator for Circus Survival.” It was hard to hear what the clown was saying over his exaggerated crying. With fumbling hands he opened the door to the backseat of the car. Inside were not the leather seats one would expect. Instead there was an entire room, dark and draped in cloth. Beyond the flowing, multicolored scarves, Iliya could not see much of what was going on. “You two just have to survive for two hours.”

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck! Iliya whimpered. He knew it! He knew there would be killer clowns! Wolf turned back around and put his hand on Iliya’s shoulder. “Don’t worry.” With a gentle motion, he began directing Iliya to enter the darkness with him. The door slammed shut behind them. Iliya allowed himself to be led, and reminded himself that his new friend’s ability was punching. Punching is good, right? Wolf can punch the clouds and Iliya can cheer him on, or something.

After a few moments, Iliya’s eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room. Unexpectedly, there were some other people in the room. The room they were in was square shaped, and at each wall there was a door. In front of each of these doors were people, most likely people who had been pushed in by other clown Moderators. Two of the doors had single people, while another door aside from Iliya and Wolf’s had two people.

“Are you guys challengers too?” Asked a nervous looking girl. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and her hair bobbed at her chin.

The other pair met eyes, before one of them answered. “Sup, I’m Roman, and this is Rina. This is my second game, and her third.” Roman was a man of average height with tanned skin and greasy hair. Rina was a small woman in heels and a business suit. Their appearances clashed, but they apparently knew each other well enough to enter a game together.

“Ah, um, I’m Lex, nice to meet you guys?” The man standing alone answered. He looked young, like a teenager. His limbs were too long for his clothes, and acne dotted his face. “Uh, it looks like the countdown hasn’t started yet.” Iliya checked, and Lex was right. They must be waiting for the Moderator, or some kind of cue before it could begin.

“That’s right!” The girl standing alone exclaimed, and blushed when she saw everyone look at her. “I’m Wicker, by the way. This is my last game before I become an official player.” Iliya felt an immediate connection with Wicker. If he was alone, the clowns would have been his last choice too.

“I’m Red, and this is Wolf,” Iliya introduced, gesturing towards the other man with him. Wolf nodded. “We just finished our second game.”

Roman looked like he was going to say something else when the floor in the center of the room opened up. Loud, wailing moans began to fill the room. A chill went down Iliya’s spine. Whoever was crying sounded genuinely, hauntingly devastated. Slowly, a platform raised from the pit in the ground. It was the clown from earlier. It was standing hunched over, head in its hands.

“Oh, boo hoo. Boo hoo hoo,” the clown said. It was actually saying boo hoo. Somehow, this was more unnerving than the great, mourning wails from earlier. “Oh, not again.”

“What? What do you mean, not again?” Iliya asked in a deliberately kind voice.

“Oh, boo hoo! Oh, I just hate sending more cute little challengers to their deaths!” With an exaggerated flick of the wrist, the clown pulled an overly large handkerchief from its sleeve. The clown blew its red button nose, and stuffed the handkerchief down the front of its jumpsuit.

The clown continued to go on and on about how sad it was. Iliya tugged on the bottom of Wolf’s shirt, getting his attention. “Killer clowns? Do we need to hide, or fight them off?” Iliya whispered.

Wolf patted the top of Iliya’s head. “Don’t worry.” Iliya didn’t know how to fight. He wasn’t strong, and he didn’t have any real weapons. He could summon Peaches, but she could only come out for one of the two hours. Plus, he didn’t know how her strength would stand up to the killer clowns they would probably encounter. He would have to trust in Wolf to protect him.

Eventually, the clown began to wind down. It blew its nose again with a honk, and started to perform its role. “Okay challengers, your game is about to begin! You can go in any of these five rooms. Run around, change rooms, hide, whatever! All you have to do is survive for two hours once the clock starts down.” The clown never said anything like don’t hurt the other players, or don’t hurt whatever might be coming after you. Self-defense could be expected and not punished, then. The only problem would be any possible attack from within the challenger’s camp. While harming other challengers didn’t seem to be advantageous at the moment, there was always a possibility it could change. “I’ll be staying here, in the center room. Though it pains me, should you get caught in a sticky situation, even if you’re right in front of me, don’t expect me to help!” As the Moderator, the clown probably couldn’t get too involved in the game, even if it wanted to.

“Are you not allowed to help, or do you just not want to?” Iliya asked, unable to keep his question to himself. Aside from Wolf, the other challengers looked at him with expressions ranging from confused to terrified. Was this kid actually picking a fight with the Moderator? Rina even had the audacity to glare at Iliya.

The clown looked outraged. “Look at my tears!” It pointed to the tears painted on its face. “Do you really think I wouldn’t help? You think so little of me?”

Ah. So the clown probably could help if it really wanted to, or had the right incentive. Good to know. “Of course I understand,” Iliya assured the clown.

“Good.” The clown wiped away a tear. The challengers collectively relaxed. “Anyway, I will give you challengers a ten minute head start. You can hide, organize, make weapons, whatever. Then I’ll be releasing your opponents. The clock staaaaaarts,” the clown pulled a party popper out of its sleeve and popped it. Confetti rained from the little popper. “now!”