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— A wish! — the jester snapped, his voice turning sharp, almost deafening, echoing through the room. — Or... I’ll choose it for you. And trust me, boy, you won’t like it.
Dan flinched but quickly straightened, clenching his fists. This little freak thought he could intimidate him? After everything he’d been through? No, that wasn’t going to work. If he wanted to play these damn games, fine.
— You want a wish? Alright, listen up, clown! — He exhaled, the rage inside him boiling over, mixing with a strange, reckless thrill. — Money. I want... no, I demand a ton of money! Right now!
— Money? — The jester tilted his head, the grin returning, but this time with a trace of... disappointment, as if Dan’s demand had failed to impress him. — That’s it? Paper? Coins? Pathetic symbols of human greed?
He snapped his fingers. A sharp metallic chime rang out, like a fistful of coins striking a hard surface. In the air, right before Dan's face, dozens of gleaming coins appeared — gold, silver, etched with intricate symbols and patterns. They hovered, spinning weightlessly... then, one by one, began to fall. Fast. Hard. The sound as they hit the floor was strange, hollow, as if each coin was dropping into a void. When the last one struck the concrete, everything vanished, leaving only the echo behind.
— This? — The jester laughed mockingly, his eyes flaring. — What are you trying to prove with that? Pathetic scraps of metal. No, boy. No. — His grin thinned, and he stepped forward, despite being so small. — Money? That’s not a wish. That’s... petty.
He folded his arms, shaking his head.
— Money can be stolen. Money can be lost. Money can be taken away. But... real wishes? They’re different. Real desires — they’re about what hides in your heart. — His voice dropped lower, quieter, but more piercing, like it was cutting straight into Dan’s soul. — What you truly crave but fear to admit. Power. Fear. For someone... to belong to you.
Dan gritted his teeth, his face twisting in frustration.
— Screw you! I’m not scared of anything! It’s Emma... — he bit his tongue, barely stopping himself. — She just... doesn’t get what’s best for her!
The jester nodded slowly, his eyes flaring with a yellow glow.
— A wish? — the jester hissed, his grin stretching unnaturally wide. — I’ll ask one last time, boy. What... do... you... want?
Dan’s breathing was ragged, his heart pounding like a drum. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Damn it, this was wrong. All of this was wrong, but... but something was boiling inside, clawing its way out. Anger. Bitterness. Humiliation.
He clenched his fists tighter, glaring into those wicked yellow eyes.
— Yeah! Emma... — His voice cracked, but he didn’t stop. — Make her... — His teeth ground together so hard his jaw ached. — Make her love me! Want me! Think about me, you hear? No other guy even close! I want to be... the only one for her! The only one, got it?!
The words spilled out before he could think.
The jester stilled, his bells silent. He stared at Dan with absolute, serene satisfaction, as if this was exactly what he had been waiting for.
— Done, — he hissed, and his cap twitched as though caught in a gust of wind, though the room remained still. — Wish granted.
A sharp clap.
The air thickened, darkened. For a moment, it felt like the walls were pressing in, gray, suffocating... but then it was gone. The jester had vanished, dissolving into the air along with his grin.
Silence.
Dan was alone. He stood in the middle of the empty room, still breathing heavily, his clenched fists aching, his heart hammering in his chest. Nothing had changed. No magic, no transformation. Everything looked... exactly the same.
— What the... — he hissed, glancing around. — That bastard tricked me!
Vibration.
His phone.
Dan jolted, yanking it from his pocket. A new message blinked on the screen. Emma.
"I’m sorry, Dan... I was wrong. I’m waiting for you by the bench near the exit. Please, come."
Dan froze, staring at the screen.
His stomach dropped.
That... that was Emma? The same Emma who had been screaming at him, fighting him off? Now she was asking for him?
A shiver crawled over his skin.
— Shit... — he whispered, gripping the phone so tightly the screen almost cracked.
His feet felt like they were sinking into the concrete floor. Was this a trap? Or...
He clenched his teeth. No. It didn’t matter. This was exactly what he had wanted. He’d asked for this. Himself.
The phone buzzed again in his hand.
"You’re coming, right? I really... I need you."
Screw it.
— To hell with it! — he growled under his breath, torn between fury and adrenaline.
And ran.
His footsteps thundered through the corridor, echoing loud and hollow. The walls blurred past — rusted pipes, peeling paint, all smearing into a gray haze. He moved without thinking, leaping over crates, broken glass, nearly stumbling down the stairs in his rush.
The air was cold, biting, but he didn’t feel it.
"She’s waiting for me. Me."