Յյ 𝔇𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔬𝔣 ℌ𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔫 [𝔄 𝔗𝔚𝔖𝔗 𝔉𝔞𝔫𝔣𝔦𝔠]

𝟐𝟗 | 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐲

ᶜᵒᵖᵖᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇʳᵒⁿᶻᵉ

𝔖𝔬𝔫𝔤: ℭ𝔞𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢𝔩 - 𝔐𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔢 𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔷

Warning: Blood, clowns

A/N: I am playing off of one of my fears, which is abandoned places that still seem to work, and clowns. Is anyone else scared of clowns here?

♥♠♣♦ ——　☠　—— ♥♠♣♦

. . . CLANK . . .

. . . CLANK . . .

. . . CLANK . . .

The grinding of gears, and the sound of a wrench falling onto metal and landing with a clattering sound. The sound of metal hinges that desperately needed to be replaced. Or at least oiled. The sound of the wind as it slithered through the trees, searching for a victim to claim, biting into the unfortunate soul with its teeth of ice as its spindly fingers crawled up their back. And the sound of what would have once been called happy carnival music. The music drew children in from miles around to play on the Merry-Go-Round and the Ferris Wheel, and wander about through the clown house. But now, the music shivered in the night, distorted and choppy. There was nothing wonderous or playful about the music. Or any of the other sounds that filled the night.

. . . CLANK . . . 

. . . CLANK . . .

. . . CLANK . . .

A tall twisted iron gate stretched towards the heavens. One door had fallen from its hinges, now dangerously supported by the lower hinge, rusted in place from age and rain. The other door still swung with the breeze, creaking like a rotten floorboard, though a thousand times louder. The old stone path was cracked and withered, weeds creeping through the cracks and reaching out with their spidery talons, waiting to ensnare the unwary. 

A Merry-Go-Round - that should have long since stopped working - spun in a screechy circle, the horses bobbing up and down, crying out in pain and agony as they did. The once pristine white and pink and blue horses were how cracked and weathered, their paint chipped and patchy, stained with dirt and muck. And... blood...

Further down the path, tucked behind some ruined game stalls, sat a large metal Ferris Wheel. Its lights flickered, even though many had eventually given up their lives and now sat dead, their lights snuffed out, their glass bulbs shattered. As a gust of wind blew through the carnival, searching for another meal, it swept up against one of the carts, shaking it loose and sending it crashing to the ground below. 

. . . CLANK . . .

. . . CLANK . . .

. . . CLANK . . .

Crowley didn't know what to think as he stepped up to the gate. Even though the night was dark, the moon shadowed by clouds of crimson and ebony, the old dilapidated amusement park seemed perfectly lit. The sign etched into the wooden sign above the gate was still perfectly illuminated by the shattered bulbs. As if they had forgotten that they were supposed to be... dead.

"Carnival and Circus," Crowley muttered, reading the words on the sign. He shuddered as a chill swept over his body, and he brought his cloak closer to his skin. He didn't at all like how the night was tickling him.