Prank, right?

It was a dark and stormy night in the city. I was walking home from a friend's house, feeling slightly on edge from the creepy stories we had been telling each other all evening. As I turned a corner, I saw something strange in the distance. It looked like a figure, looming in the shadows. My heart raced as I approached, wondering what it could be. As I got closer, I realized that it was just a mannequin, dressed in a creepy clown costume. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing my friends were probably behind this prank. They loved scaring me and often went to great lengths to do so. I continued walking, trying to shake off the feeling of unease that had settled over me. But as I made my way through the city streets, things began to feel off. The once-familiar buildings and landmarks looked distorted, almost twisted in a way that made me feel like I was in a nightmare. I tried to tell myself that it was just my imagination, that my friends were probably watching me from afar, laughing at my paranoia. But then I heard something. It was a faint, scratching sound, coming from a nearby alleyway. My heart pounding, I cautiously approached the alley, peering into the darkness. I couldn't see anything, but the scratching continued, getting louder and more frantic by the second. Suddenly, something darted out of the shadows, causing me to scream in terror. It was a rat, but it felt like a monster at that moment. I stumbled backward, tripping over something on the ground. As I scrambled to my feet, I realized that I had fallen over another mannequin. This one was dressed in a business suit, but its face was contorted into a grotesque horror mask. That's when I saw them. My friends, hiding in the shadows, watching me with grins on their faces. I tried to laugh it off, telling them they had scared me enough for one night. But they didn't respond. It wasn't until I looked back at the mannequin that I realized something was wrong. The suit was actual, and so was the man inside it. He had been murdered, his body stuffed into the mannequin as part of my friend's twisted prank. I screamed, turning to run, but my friends blocked my escape. They had planned everything, from the mannequins to the distorted cityscape, all to scare me. But they had gone too far, and now I was trapped in a real-life horror story. As they closed in on me, laughing maniacally, I knew that this was no longer a joke. The horror was all too real, and I was trapped in a nightmare from which there was no escape.