A Heroic Clown.
Riley crouched by the small, ajar window, the cool night air brushing against his face. The mansion loomed before him, dark and foreboding under the pale light of the moon. He could feel the tension building in his chest, but beneath it all, there was also a strange sense of exhilaration. He inhaled deeply, savoring the familiar cocktail of danger and excitement.
There was something about sneaking into places—slipping into the shadows like a ghost, unseen, unnoticed—that made him feel alive.
And this time, he had a hunch something big was going on inside this mansion.
Before entering, Riley paused, glancing around to make sure the coast was clear. He needed to keep his identity hidden if things went sideways, and besides, he enjoyed a little theatrics when it came to these kinds of situations. There was something about striking fear before you even made your first move. A psychological edge.