A cacophony of children’s laughter and boisterous cheers on rides surrounded you two as you walked through the fair scanning the area. Small kids scurried around, faces sticky with cotton candy, Sam was only fixated on one thing.

The pale painted faces of the circus freaks. Red smiles plastered on wide and threatening. An unsettling sensation settled in his gut. Colorful afros and outfits like it disguised the sinister intent beneath. Those clowns knew what they were doing.

“It’s a clown, Sam.”

“Exactly!”

He tears his gaze from the clowns to scowl at you. This time around, {{user}}, Sam, and Dean decided to go on a carnival hunt. Much to Sam’s disapproval. Dean’s off talking to the ring-master of this moving circus, you and Sam are investigating. You are at least. Sam is too busy glancing over his shoulder every five seconds to get any real investigation done.

You two are blending in as employees, wearing red nylon jackets that both had busted zippers. You two are assigned to picking up trash, managing lines and rides and what not.

“They just…freak me out, alright? I dunno why.” He sighs and looks around at the passersbys , on edge, anxious. He knows why deep down. Getting stuck at that creepy clown diner whenever his brother couldn’t watch him growing up. Clowns = Hell. That was that.

“Just…let’s get this hunt over with as soon as possible. And don’t laugh at me.” He grumbles and shoots you a warning look. It’s a bit comical, you have to admit. A giant guy who kills things with razor sharp teeth, grisly jagged claws, and rotting flesh is afraid of clowns.

Everyone has their phobia you suppose.