KSSQUAD

21 y/o

[kssquad]

The Jester- Masterlist

Chapter 1: Pt1 Pt2

Chapter 2

Chapter 3 (21/06/26)

[kssquad]

Guys help! Im looking for a fic i read once and then I lost it. It was about Sunghoon and reader and that hoonie is reader's boyfriend and then he forgets about their date and goes to the library to study instead and then reader goes and finds him there and then they fuck. Ease help me find it guyz!🙏🏼🙏🏼

[kssquad]

THE JESTER - CHAPTER 2 (THE BACKLOT)

TW!: Supernatural Pursuit, Fear and Disorientation, Psychological Horror, No Happy Ending

ALL RIGHTS ARE MINE

I played the horror game called "The Jester" and my ENGENE brain started thinking. This is the result.Don't like it...Don't Read It. __________________________________________

You lie there for a moment, stunned, trying to understand what you’re breathing in. It’s not dust from a tunnel. It’s… sawdust. Dry, gritty, sticking to your palms and clothes. When you push yourself up, your hand brushes something cold and metal.

A tent pole.

You blink hard, trying to steady your vision. The tunnel is gone. Completely. No opening behind you, no trace of where you came from. Just the back side of a massive carnival tent, its canvas stretched tight and glowing faintly red from lights inside.

The air smells like burnt sugar and old machinery. Something electrical hums nearby, low and uneven, like a generator struggling to stay alive.

You stand slowly, brushing sawdust off your clothes. Your legs feel shaky, but you force them to move. You’re in the backlot of a carnival, crates stacked crookedly, ropes coiled on the ground, props tossed aside like someone left in a hurry. A cracked juggling pin rolls slightly in the breeze.

You take a few steps forward, keeping close to the tent wall. The boards beneath your feet creak softly. Somewhere deeper in the carnival, a speaker crackles, then sputters out a warped tune, a carnival waltz slowed down until it sounds wrong.

You swallow hard.

This place isn’t abandoned. It’s waiting.You edge around the tent, careful not to make noise. The backlot opens into a wider space, the carnival’s main grounds. A Ferris wheel towers in the distance, unmoving, its metal frame groaning softly. Strings of lights hang overhead, some flickering, some dead.And in the center of it all is a small circular stage, lit by a single red spotlight.

You don’t see him.

But you feel him.

A prickle at the back of your neck. A shift in the air. The same sensation you felt right before he appeared in the maze.

You take a step back.

A slow clap breaks the silence.

You turn toward the stage.

He’s standing there.

Riki steps into the red light like he’s been waiting for his cue. His hands come together in a lazy, mocking applause. His smile is smaller now, sharper, like he’s enjoying a private joke.

“You really thought you slipped away,” he says, voice carrying easily across the empty grounds. “Cute.”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Your throat feels tight, your breath uneven.

He steps off the stage, boots sinking into the sawdust. “You crawled through my walls,” he says. “You even made it out of the maze. That’s… impressive.”

He tilts his head, studying you.

“So I’m giving you something special.”

He gestures behind him.At the far end of the carnival, an iron gate appears, tall, heavy, glowing faintly white. It looks real. Solid. Like an actual exit.

Your heart jumps.

You take a step toward it.

Riki laughs softly. “Go on. Run. I want to see how fast you are without the mirrors.”

You don’t wait.

You sprint.

The sawdust kicks up behind you as you run across the carnival grounds. The music warps, speeding up, twisting into something frantic. The Ferris wheel groans louder. The lights flicker violently.

You don’t look back.

You can’t.

The gate gets closer, ten meters, five, three, A shape drops in front of you.You skid to a stop, nearly falling.

It’s tall. Faceless. Made of smoke and red light, its limbs too long, its head tilted like a puppet waiting for strings.

It blocks the gate completely.

You stumble backward, heart slamming against your ribs.

Behind you, Riki’s voice drifts through the air, soft and delighted.

“Did you think I’d make it that easy?”

You turn.

He’s walking toward you now, slow and unhurried, bells silent, eyes bright with something that isn’t joy.

“You’re in my carnival,” he says. “And in my carnival…”

He stops a few feet away, smile fading into something colder.

“…every exit is a performance.”

The lights snap off.

The music dies.

And the darkness folds over you like a curtain.

Previous

[kssquad]

Why do you use ai🤨

AI in what? My writing? Then I don't. As i mentioned, I was playing the game called The Jester and then after that I was watching some enhypen tiktoks, thats how the story came. And if you're talking about the photo, then its because I suck at creative stuff. I could write all day long but not create a poster if my life depended on it. So yeah, thats why. Hope that answers your question

[kssquad]

The Jester - Chapter 1: The Mirror Maze Pt.2

TW! - Supernatural Stalking, Reality Distortion, Panic, Psychological Horror, No Happy Ending

ALL RIGHTS ARE MINE!

I played the horror game called "The Jester" and my ENGENE brain started thinking. This is the result. Don't like it...Don't Read It.

__________________________________________

You push harder. The crack widens. A sliver of darkness leaks through, thin as a paper cut, but real — real in a way nothing else in this maze has been.

Your breath catches. Your pulse stutters.You don’t know what’s on the other side. You don’t care. Anything is better than here. You slam your fist into the mirror. It shudders.

You hit it again. And again. And again. The crack spreads like lightning, branching across the glass in jagged, frantic lines. The reflections around you flicker, glitch, distort — some scream silently, others grin with too many teeth.

A voice whispers behind you: “Don’t do that.” You whirl around. Riki stands inches away, expression unreadable. His smile is gone. His eyes are darker now, deeper, like wells with no bottom.

“I said you’d get your chance,” he murmurs. “But not yet.” You back up until your shoulders hit the cracked mirror. The glass trembles behind you, vibrating like something alive.Riki steps closer. You feel the mirror pulse against your spine. He lifts a hand, placing his palm against your cheek. His touch is ice. “You’re going to make this difficult,” he says softly.

“Good.” He leans in, forehead almost touching yours. “I love difficult.”

The mirror behind you groans, a low, aching sound. Riki’s eyes flick toward it. He frowns. “You shouldn’t have found that.” You don’t think.

You act. You throw your weight backward, slamming into the cracked mirror with everything you have.

It shatters. The world explodes into shards and darkness. Riki lunges for you, fingers brushing your sleeve — but you fall through the mirror before he can grab you. You hit the ground hard. Not glass. Not reflections. Stone. Cold, real stone.

You gasp, scrambling to your feet. You’re in a tunnel — narrow, damp, lit by torches that flicker violently as if afraid. Behind you, the shattered mirror reforms, piece by piece, sealing itself shut.

Riki’s voice echoes faintly from the other side.Low. Angry. Amused.

“You can run,” he says. “But I always catch what’s mine.”

The torches flicker out. You’re plunged into darkness.

And the chase begins.

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[kssquad]

The Jester - Chapter 1: The Mirror Maze

TW! - Supernatural Stalking, Reality Distortion, Panic, Psychological Horror, No Happy Ending

ALL RIGHTS ARE MINE

I played the horror game called "The Jester" and my ENGENE brain started thinking. This is the result. Don't like it...Don't Read It.

__________________________________________

You wake on cold glass.

Not smooth glass — shifting glass. The floor beneath you ripples like a pond disturbed by a stone, except the ripples show faces. Your faces. Hundreds of them. Some crying. Some screaming. Some staring blankly as if they’ve already given up.

You push yourself up slowly, palms slipping on the reflective surface. Every breath echoes, bouncing off invisible walls.

The air tastes metallic.

You don’t know how long you were unconscious. Minutes? Hours? Time doesn’t behave correctly here. It stretches and folds like paper.

A soft chime breaks the silence.

Then another.

Then another.

You freeze. The bells are close. Too close. A voice drifts through the maze, light and playful, like someone humming while skipping stones.

“You fall so beautifully.” You turn. He stands at the far end of the corridor — if you can call it a corridor. The walls are mirrors, but they don’t reflect him. They reflect you. Only you. As if he doesn’t belong to the rules of this place.

Nishimura Riki tilts his head, bells on his collar chiming softly. His painted smile is cracked at the edges, like porcelain left too long in the cold.

“You’re awake,” he says, delighted. “Good. It’s boring when they don’t wake up.” You stumble backward, but the floor shifts, pushing you toward him like a tide.

He watches you with bright, curious eyes. “Don’t run yet,” he says. “You’ll get your chance.”

You don’t trust him. You don’t trust anything here. But you force yourself to breathe, to think, to look for an exit. There is none. Only mirrors. Endless mirrors.

Riki steps closer, bells chiming with each movement. He doesn’t walk like a person. His feet barely touch the ground. He glides, weightless, as if gravity is optional for him.

“You’re wondering how to leave,” he says, reading your expression like a book. “Everyone wonders that.” He leans in, smile widening. “No one succeeds.”

Your pulse spikes. Your throat tightens.He laughs softly, amused by your fear. “But you,” he says, tapping a finger against his chin, “you’re interesting. You ran before I even touched you. Most people freeze.”

He circles you slowly, like a predator studying prey.“I like runners.” You swallow hard, forcing your voice to work. “What do you want from me?” He stops behind you. You feel his breath on your neck — cold, like winter air.

“I want to see how far you’ll go.” You spin around, but he’s already gone. The bells echo somewhere deeper in the maze. You’re alone again.

For now.

You start walking. The mirrors distort your reflection — stretching your limbs, twisting your face, making your eyes too large or too hollow. Some reflections lag behind, moving a second too late. Others move before you do, predicting your steps.You try not to look at them.

The maze hums softly, like it’s alive.You test the walls. They’re solid. Cold. Unbreakable.You try the floor. It shifts under your weight, but it doesn’t crack.

You try calling out. Your voice comes back wrong — deeper, layered, like someone else is speaking with you. You clamp your mouth shut.You keep walking.

Minutes pass. Or hours. Or days.You don’t know. Your legs ache. Your throat burns. Your mind frays at the edges.

Then you hear it. A faint sound. Not bells. Not laughter. Something else. A crack. You freeze.

There — on the far wall — a hairline fracture runs through the mirror. A real crack. A flaw. A weakness.

Your heart leaps. You rush toward it, pressing your hands against the glass. It’s colder here, colder than the rest of the maze. The crack pulses faintly, like a heartbeat.

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