Horror Game Developer: My games aren't that scary!-Chapter 185: Mr. Jingles [3]

"....."

I sat frozen, unable to move a single muscle as the hand clamped against my shoulder and a head slowly inched from the right side of me, exposing a grotesque-looking face. The stitching around its mouth pulled tight as its lips pulled into a grin, and a suffocating feeling suddenly enveloped me.

"It would be such a disappointment if, by the time our bet comes to fruition, you show me nothing worth my time."

The conductor’s low, grating voice whispered into my ear, threading into my thoughts and making my body shudder.

But regardless of how I felt, I couldn’t show my fear.

I could only keep my face straight while pulling my hands away from the piano.

"...I’m working on it."

"You are...?"

The conductor’s head tilted further, the head turning more than normally possible.

"I’ve been watching you. I... have not seen you play the piano once."

I swallowed silently, my heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the storm outside.

BANG!

A flash of light. A deafening clap. The world outside darkened further as the rain intensified.

The old, funky smell of the room became even more pronounced, and another flash lit up the room.

I could tell.

Another one was coming.

’Another one is coming.’

BANG!

I nearly flinched.

It struck not far from here, illuminating everything around.

I closed my eyes and inhaled quietly before opening them again. The noise of the rain pounding against the glass became even louder.

"...I can play the piano. The issue is not the piano."

"Oh?"

Cra—Crack!

The conductor’s neck creaked further, its head now bent at a full one-eighty degrees.

"What could you mean by that?"

I smiled.

"That would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?"

"..."

The conductor said nothing, its face still inches from mine. I couldn’t read its expression. I couldn’t even begin to guess what it might be thinking.

The only thing that was on my mind at the moment was: ’Survive. I need to survive this ordeal!’

I hadn’t expected the conductor to appear the moment I touched the piano.

There should’ve been more time left on our deal.

For it to show up like this...

’Why? Why is it doing this?’

"....I see."

Another flash of light lit up the conductor’s distorted face as his head finally turned away, and the grip on my shoulder eased.

"So... you won’t reveal what you’re planning. That is making me even more curious."

Its voice dropped to a whisper, trailing off behind me as the hand withdrew.

"In that case, I will await the day that you finally show me what you’ve prepared. And just a reminder. Failure... means becoming a permanent member of my audience."

With a silent chuckle, the conductor’s voice grew even fainter.

"Oh, and regarding your current situation..."

With a sudden pause, the conductor whispered.

"...It’s all a puzzle."

"Huh?"

I spun around, heart racing. A puzzle? What was it talking about? Was it referring to the anomaly I was dealing with?

’Wait, is it possible that the reason the Conductor actually showed up isn’t because it’s impatient with what I’m doing, but... instead, because it wanted to tell me the clue?’

That...

Could it be—

BANG!

The thunder crashed again, snapping me from my thoughts.

When the rumbling faded, only the sound of rain tapping against the window remained.

The space behind me was empty.

"....."

I sat in silence for a long moment before my gaze shifted back to the piano.

There, resting on the keys, was a white pair of gloves.

"What the hell..."

***

Scrrr— Scrrr—

The crayon scratched loudly against the paper. The boy hunched over it, completely absorbed in his drawing.

Despite the intense sound of the rain and the dim light, the boy remained focused on the drawing.

BANG!

Thunder crashed, but the boy didn’t flinch.

Scrrr—

He only had eyes for the drawing.

Alone on a plastic chair in a quiet room, the boy continued without pause.

This persisted until...

Flick!

The old TV in the corner sparked to life, static hissing before a cheerful tune broke through.

Tatata~ Tatata~

The boy lifted his head, eyes pulling away from the paper for the first time.

On the screen, an old cartoon flickered into view. A clown stood facing away, holding a cluster of red balloons. He stood on a road with several houses around. Looking closely, one could see several characters waving at the screen with big smiles on their faces.

"Are you ready?"

A high-pitched, squeaky voice echoed from the TV.

The boy dropped his crayon and nodded.

"Good!"

The clown bounced in place, its back still turned.

"Mr. Jingles is here~ Mr. Jingles wants to play~ A play we shall!"

Still dancing with its back facing the TV, Mr. Jingles raised its foot to the side, displaying its red boot.

"Mr. Jingles says~ What is this?"

"Boot."

The young child replied.

"Correct!"

Another happy tune began to play as Mr. Jingles danced once more.

"Mr. Jingles says~ What is this?"

It extended its hand to display its white glove.

"Glove!"

"Correct! Wow! You’re such a good boy... Chris!"

Tatata~ Tatata~

The tune played again, the clown laughing and jumping once again. Staring at the TV, the young child similarly smiled, the flashing of the TV reflecting within his large pupils.

"Mr. Jingles says~"

Entranced by the TV, the young kid described everything that Mr. Jingles pointed at.

"Mr. Jingles says~"

"Hair."

"Mr. Jingles says~"

"Nose." freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

"Mr. Jingles says~"

"Clothes."

"Mr. Jingles says~"

"Stripes."

Slowly but surely, the kid described everything that Mr. Jingles pointed at.

It was clear from a glance that this wasn’t the first time that the kid had played this game, and slowly, Mr. Jingles finally turned around, its body bobbing up and down as it covered its eyes with both hands.

"Are you ready for the final round?"

"...Yes."

The boy nodded slowly. The tune softened.

Mr. Jingles smiled wider, the red paint stretching unnaturally far across its face.

"Mr. Jingles says~ Wha—"

The voice cut off mid-sentence.

The smile on its face slowly started to fade, contorting in the opposite direction.

The room grew colder as a strange tension filled the air. The boy stared, confused.

But then—

Flick!

The TV turned off, and shortly after, a figure walked in.

"Chris?"

Seth stepped into the room, eyes scanning until they landed on the boy, still seated in the corner, staring at the blank screen.

Before him was the same drawing of Mr. Jingles.

But this time, Seth noticed something.

’The eyes.’

The boy had yet to draw the eyes.

’I guess that’s a good thing. Those black eyes were rather creepy.’

Sighing, Seth moved forward and bent down a little to stare at the kid.

"Hey, Chris. Everyone is in the main hall. Do you want to—"

"Mr. Jingles."

The young boy cut through Seth’s words, his head slowly turning to face Seth to reveal his almost detached gaze.

Light flashed from the outside window.

"...He is not happy."

Seth blinked.

"What...?"

Before Seth even had the time to process it, from the back of one of the plastic castles in the room, a red balloon slowly floated.

The kid’s voice echoed once more.

"Mr. Jingles is angry."

BANG!

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