I knew then that it didn’t matter that the black mask gave no indication, no inkling of any emotion. The Harlequin was aware of my presence and, in some way, its attention was entirely directed at me. The thing was performing, but not for my... entertainment.--Written by Jacob Duarte SpielSupport The Wrong Station by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices