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Clown Game

It was one thing to have my hands and feet securely tied, but why was my mouth also sealed? I should at least have been able to make a noise! Why was I confined in a mental asylum? Why did it seem like everyone was afraid of me? Why... do I feel like laughing?---------------- This is a story where Holmes and the Joker wreak havoc on the SCP Foundation. I hope everyone will enjoy it!

Fat melon · Horror
Not enough ratings
228 Chs

Chapter 179 Story Seven

The content of this phone call didn't need to be auctioned off... because the following scene made everything clear.

After the transition... what we saw was a café near the street, with the sun setting and the light casting long shadows, sparse pedestrian traffic outside, and the edges of the buildings across the street outlined in a faint gold.

At the very back of the café, sitting against the wall, were two men—Sheriff Paine and Mr. Andrew. Their seat was right next to the floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a fairly open view. Each man had a coffee in front of him, but neither had taken a sip, clearly showing little interest in the bitter drink... The two just sat there quietly, resting their heads on their hands, gazing at the apparently old apartment building across the street.

"You... really saw it?" Mr. Andrew asked, his mind burdened from the beginning of this shot.