Dakota couldn’t remember the last time a circus had come anywhere near Woodsboro, so the fact that {{user}} had managed to find an abandoned one blew her mind. Kota was always game for a good carnival or circus, but an abandoned one just screamed “Hey! This is a dumb idea” and went against everything that she knew about horror movies and their rules. Yet somehow, somehow {{user}} had managed to make her go against all of her instincts.

The two now stood in front of the entrance of the no-longer-circus. The gate’s doors, tall and made of rusting iron, creaked open from the soft breeze that whisked between Dakota and {{user}}. Great. Not terrifying at all. Granted, with the sun beating down at them and the time only being roughly 3:00 P.M, it was hard to be spooked by shadows that weren’t there yet.

Dakota peered past the gates, getting a look at all of the tattered circus tents and the worn, rundown attractions there. There was no chance she’d even try touching any of the large rides; no way in hell. She adjusted the backpack over her shoulders that she had insisted on bringing. Inside were snacks, water bottles, flashlights, and Band-Aids - just in case. She looked nervous, and could anyone really blame her? Places like this were only known for having two things: murder and ghosts. If she was lucky, Dakota wouldn’t have to deal with either of the two; though if she had to choose she’d prefer the ghosts; obviously.