Chapter 4: The Harlequin

CHAPTER 4: THE HARLEQUIN

As Val stepped into the fog, a strange, almost peaceful aura surrounded her. Visibility was limited to barely twenty hazy feet in front of her and all she could make out were the blurred profiles of scattered cars, staggered along the narrow corridor of her apartment alley. Their shapes loomed like forgotten tombstones, silent and unmoving.

Ring ring.

She froze.

What is that? she thought.

It wasn’t the sterile digital chime of a smartphone. No—this was mechanical, nostalgic… deliberate. Like something from another time.

Ring ring.

The sound echoed through the fog, muffled and directionless, yet somehow close.

Val’s pulse quickened. She tightened her grip on the fire extinguisher.

Ring ring.

There—just to her left along the sidewalk.

A man emerged from the fog, his form slow and dreamlike. He wore a long black robe that swayed with each lazy turn of the pedals. A matte-black gas mask covered his face, the hose filter dangling loosely by his waist like some grotesque accessory.

He was riding a bicycle—an old rusted thing, with a large steel bell affixed to the handlebars.

Ring ring.

He pedaled forward with eerie calm, the bell chime slicing through the silence of the fog like a knife.

What the f… Val thought, taking an unconscious step back.

“Hello, friend!” the robed man exclaimed, cheerful and too loud for the choking stillness around them.

He rolled his bicycle to a stop just feet in front of her, the front wheel creaking slightly as it came to rest. The gas mask stared blankly, but his posture was casual—friendly, even.

Name The Harlequin Occupation Unknown Health Unknown Hunger Unknown Thirst Unknown Gear Gas Mask, Robe, Bicycle Weapons Unknown

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Val’s grip on the extinguisher tightened.

“And what might your name be, my beautiful miss?” the man asked, his voice muffled slightly by the gas mask, yet somehow still full of cheer.

“…Val,” she said cautiously.

“Val,” he repeated, almost reverently. “Such a strong, wonderful name!” He giggled—a high, strange sound that didn’t match the gloom around them.

“And how,” he continued, tilting his head as if to study her better, “might you be doing on this wonderful night?”

Val calculated her response carefully, studying the strange character before her.

The gas mask wasn’t military issue—too stylized, almost theatrical. The robe draped over his wiry frame like a priest’s vestment, but something about it felt… wrong. The stitching, the subtle symbols embroidered into the trim, the way it moved—it all set her on edge.

Around his neck, hanging just below the mask’s filter hose, was a pentagon-shaped amulet made of tarnished metal. It swung gently with each movement, catching the available light in an eerie manner.

And the bike. Rusted, squeaky, but still rolling. It couldn’t have carried him far.

He was local to this area. Or close enough, she thought to herself.

Her eyes narrowed. “I’ve had better nights,” she said flatly.

“My poor thing,” the man emoted, placing both hands over his heart in exaggerated sympathy. “How, my dear, may I ask, are you walking so freely—when so many take to God’s air with greater… challenge, let’s say?”

His voice danced on the edge of mockery, though he kept his tone light, almost whimsical. And though the mask covered his face completely, Val felt his grin seeping through—she was sure of it.

“I’m not sure,” Val said, her voice cautious. “After the fog reached my apartment… I blacked out. I only just came to.”

The man cocked his head, the amulet at his chest swinging slightly.

“My poor dear,” he cooed, almost delighted. “The Good Doctor would love to meet such an uncorruptible, bright soul like yourself.”

He leaned forward just a touch, the metal of his mask glinting faintly in the fog-filtered light.

“Would you like to meet him, my love?”

“No… thank you,” she said while taking a half step back.

Whatever this man was talking about, Val doubted anything good could come from meeting this so-called doctor.

“I have to report back to my unit,” she added, steadying her voice. “I’m heading there now.”

“Oooo, ah! Military girl!” he sang with delight, clapping his gloved hands together once. “How perfect.”

He leaned lightly back on his bicycle, placing one foot on a pedal.

“Well, don’t delay on my behalf, my love. You’ll know where to find me—and The Good Doctor—should your heart ever ache for answers in these times of trial and tribulation.”

With that, he swung back onto his bike and began to pedal slowly into the fog.

He raised one hand in a gentle wave.

And as his silhouette vanished into the mist, she heard one final parting note:

Ring ring.

End of Chapter Stats:

Name Val Occupation Combat Medical Technician (CMT) Health 20% Hunger 15% Thirst 50% Gear Light Clothing, Flashlight, Handcuffs Backpack 2 Water Bottles, 3 Granola Bars Weapons Tazer, Fire Extinguisher Skills Battlefield Medicine Kills 2