The sky brooded with thick, gray clouds—too dark for 2 p.m.
A sharp ding-dong shattered the silence of the South residence. Footsteps thundered down the stairs, quick and eager. Ruby South, her long, wavy brunette hair bouncing with each step, pulled open the front door, expecting a delivery she didn't remember ordering.
The mailman handed her a single envelope. No words. Just a nod and a strange, lingering stare before he turned and walked briskly back to his van.
Ruby blinked, confused, her smile fading as her eyes dropped to the letter—no stamp, no return address. Just her name, written in sharp red ink.
"Who was that?" her grandmother's voice floated from the living room, warm but distracted.
"Just the mailman," Ruby replied, still staring at the envelope as she shut the door. She made her way into the kitchen. "Grandma, were you expecting anything today?" She held up the letter.
Her grandmother squinted at it, then waved her hand dismissively. "No, not at all. Probably a wrong address. These things happen."
"Yeah… maybe," Ruby mumbled.
Still uneasy, she walked back outside and placed the letter carefully in the mailbox. Just in case someone came looking for it.
But as she turned to head back inside, she didn't notice the red ink seeping through the paper—spreading slowly, like fresh blood soaking into cotton.
Ruby stepped back into the house, her fingers still tingling with unease. But something stopped her.
A cold stillness crept up her spine.
She turned slowly.
There, across the street, stood a clown.
Not the cheerful kind found at birthday parties. This one was tall, unnaturally still, dressed in a dusty white suit smeared faintly with red. Its face was pale and expressionless, except for the wide painted grin stretched grotesquely across its cheeks. In its hand, a single black balloon bobbed silently in the windless air.
Ruby stared. The clown didn't move—but somehow, its eyes locked with hers, like they were reaching past her skin, into her bones.
It felt... wrong. As if the longer she looked, the closer it drew her in. Her body leaned forward slightly. Her breathing slowed. Something deep in her gut screamed move, but her legs refused.
She could almost see the clown's hand twitch, raising a hidden knife.
A sudden tap on her shoulder made her jerk back with a sharp gasp.
"Ruby! I've been calling you for hours," came a familiar voice.
Ruby spun around. It was Tasha—tall, striking, and always a little dramatic. Her skin was a warm blend of her Black and white heritage, and her hair framed her face in tight curls.
Ruby turned her head back toward the street.
The clown was gone.
Not a balloon. Not a footprint.
Just empty road.
"Um... hello?" Tasha waved her hand in front of her friend's face. "Ruby? Earth to you?"
Ruby's voice dropped to a whisper. "Did you see a clown just now?"
Tasha furrowed her brows. "What? No. There's no clown, babe."
"It was right there," Ruby insisted, pointing. "Middle of the street. Just staring."
Tasha gave her a look. "Clowns don't just show up like that. But you know what does show up? Weird-ass mail."
Ruby blinked. "Mail?"
"Yeah," Tasha said, digging into her jacket pocket and pulling out a folded white envelope. "No stamp. No return address. Just my name written in red ink. And the guy who gave it to me? Creepy. Looked like he hadn't slept in years."
Ruby felt her breath catch.
"I got one too," she said slowly, her gaze drifting back to the mailbox. "I didn't open it."
Tasha raised a brow. "Well, maybe we should."
They both looked toward the mailbox at the same time—cold wind brushing their cheeks like a warning.
Inside, the letter waited.
Watching.
"Ruby! Lunch!" Her grandmother's voice echoed from the front door, warm and grounding. "Oh, hi Tasha!"
The sudden call snapped Ruby and Tasha from the trance-like state.
"Hi, Grandma," Tasha replied, flashing a polite smile.
"Come on now, let's eat," her grandmother said as she shuffled back inside.
Tasha nudged Ruby gently. "Come on, girl."
"Yeah," Ruby murmured, her eyes still lingering on the spot where the clown had stood. The street was empty. But the unease remained.
They stepped inside, the front door clicking shut behind them.
---
NIGHTTIME.
TIME: 7:30 PM.
RUBY'S ROOM.
The room was dimly lit by fairy lights strung across the walls. Ruby and Tasha sat cross-legged on her bed, a laptop propped open in front of them. On the screen was Maya—sharp-cheekboned and effortlessly pretty with her long blonde hair wrapped in a silk scarf, chewing gum as she listened half-interested.
"Maya, you have to believe me. I saw a clown today," Ruby said, her voice tight with conviction.
Maya rolled her eyes. "Ruby, come on. It's probably just someone playing a stupid prank. You always take things way too seriously."
"See?" Tasha chimed in with a smirk, pulling the white envelope from her jacket. "Even Maya thinks you're being dramatic."
She held the letter up to the webcam. "But just out of curiosity—did you get one of these?"
Maya squinted. "A blank envelope?"
"No stamp. No return address. Just our names in red ink," Tasha said.
Maya shook her head. "Nope. Nothing. Why?"
Tasha shrugged. "No reason. Just weird that Ruby and I both got one."
"It's probably just a lame prank," Maya said, dismissive. "Seriously, who sends mail like that these days?"
"Maybe we should check it out," Ruby murmured, still unnerved.
"Check what out? The imaginary clown? Come on, it's all fake," Maya said, clearly unimpressed.
Ruby's tone sharpened. "I know what I saw. It wasn't just a prank—it felt... real. Wrong. It was staring right at me."
"Well," Maya said with a yawn, "it's a school night. And I value my sleep. My mom'll throw hands if I don't get up early. So, sweet dreams with your murder clown, okay?"
Before Ruby could argue, Tasha's phone chimed.
"Oops. My mom's calling. Time for me to head out," she said, swinging her legs off the bed.
"I'll walk you," Ruby offered.
They both left the room, the hallway bathed in quiet shadow.
Behind them, unnoticed, something began to form on the outside window.
A faint mist.
Then a shape.
Pressed against the glass, a distorted grin slowly etched itself in the condensation—wide, knowing, and unnatural.
And then it faded.
The alarm buzzed loudly.
Ruby groaned, slapping her hand against the snooze button before dragging herself upright. She sat at the edge of the bed, eyes half-closed, her hair tousled from sleep. With a yawn, she glanced at the window—and sighed.
The sky looked dull again. Overcast. Like yesterday.
Already dressed in her jeans and hoodie, she trudged downstairs. Her grandmother was waiting with a small lunch bag.
"Grandma," Ruby groaned, "I'm eighteen. I don't need a packed lunch anymore."
"Nonsense, child," her grandma said, brushing a lock of hair from Ruby's face. "Make sure you understand everything your teacher says today. And after that, you eat well. Got it?"
Ruby couldn't help but smile. "Got it, Grandma."
She stepped outside, her sneakers crunching gently on the gravel path. She passed the mailbox—then stopped. Slowly, she walked back to it and opened the lid.
Empty.
The letter was gone.
Her breath caught. She stared at the hollow space where it once was.
"Okay... don't panic," Ruby whispered to herself. "The mailman probably realized it was a mistake and took it back. Nothing weird."
Still, her gut twisted. She shut the mailbox quickly and walked off—faster than before.
---
STAND HILLS HIGH SCHOOL
Tasha was pulling her books from her locker when Ruby arrived, looking like she hadn't slept a wink.
"Isn't it too early in the morning for dramatic sighs?" Tasha teased, shutting her locker.
Ruby ignored the joke. "I checked the mailbox. The letter's gone."
Tasha blinked. "Okay... And? Isn't that good?"
Ruby frowned. "What about yours? Did you keep it?"
"Oh, that?" Tasha shrugged. "I tossed it. My mom hates random junk mail."
Before Ruby could respond, a voice rang out across the hallway.
"Guys!"
Maya stormed over, face flushed with frustration. She held up a white envelope like it was diseased.
"Some creepy-ass mailman gave me a letter this morning," she said, voice rising. "No stamp. No address. Just my name—in blood-red ink! What kind of messed-up joke is this?!"
Suddenly, the lights flickered—and shut off.
All around them, lockers slammed shut one by one.
Silence.
Then the sound of breathing—panicked, uneven. But no one else was there.
The hallway was empty.
The girls looked around, wide-eyed.
"Okay, what the hell is going on?" Tasha whispered, her voice trembling.
Then, without warning...
The clown appeared.
Standing at the end of the corridor.
Not smiling this time—but grinning.
In his hand: a chainsaw. He tilted his head and let out a distorted giggle that warped into a sinister laugh.
"What the hell is that?!" Maya screamed, stumbling back.
The clown stepped forward.
"You went off script, Maya," it said in a voice like static. "And now… it's time to diiieeeee!"
The chainsaw roared to life.
"OH MY GOD!! RUN!" Ruby shouted.
And the girls ran—sprinting down the hallway as the clown's echoing laughter followed them into the darkness.