I never thought I’d be the one posting here, but the events of the past few weeks have left me with no choice. I need to share this, to warn others who might stumble upon what I did at the old carnival grounds.
It all started innocently enough. My friends and I, a group of college students always on the lookout for something different to do, decided to explore the abandoned carnival grounds on the outskirts of our small town. The carnival had been shut down decades ago, leaving behind a creepy collection of rusting rides and faded banners.
We entered through a broken gate, our flashlights cutting through the darkness that seemed to cling to the place. The air was thick with a strange, almost tangible energy. As we wandered deeper into the grounds, we began to hear faint whispers, like distant conversations carried by the wind.
Ignoring the unease settling in my stomach, we approached the dilapidated carousel. Its paint was peeling, and the once vibrant horses now looked like grotesque caricatures frozen in mid-gallop. As we circled the carousel, the whispers grew louder, forming into distinct voices that seemed to echo from the empty air around us.
That’s when we saw him – a man in a tattered carnival barker’s outfit, standing beside the carousel. His face was obscured by the shadows of a wide-brimmed hat, but his presence was undeniable. We tried to engage him in conversation, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on the carousel.
The whispers reached a crescendo, and suddenly, the carousel lurched to life. The rusty gears groaned, and the horses started moving, their painted eyes staring into our souls. Panic set in as we tried to flee, but an unseen force held us in place.
The carnival barker raised his head, revealing hollow eye sockets that glowed with an otherworldly light. His voice, a low, guttural sound, echoed in our minds. “Welcome to the show,” he said, and the carousel spun faster, the creaking metal drowning out our screams.
We found ourselves transported to a nightmarish carnival, a twisted realm where reality blended with nightmare. The rides were alive, pulsating with an evil energy, and grotesque creatures roamed the grounds. Every attempt to escape only led us deeper into the nightmare.
Days blurred into nights as we wandered the cursed carnival, our sanity slipping away with each passing moment. We encountered other lost souls, trapped like us, their eyes vacant and their expressions frozen in perpetual terror. The carnival barker, a spectral presence, watched over us, his laughter echoing through the eerie landscape.
Finally, we stumbled upon a rusted Ferris wheel that seemed to pierce the ominous sky. The carnival barker appeared before us, his skeletal hand gesturing toward the creaking structure. “The only way out is to take a ride,” he whispered.
With no other option, we boarded the Ferris wheel, the creaking and groaning reaching a deafening pitch. As we ascended, the carnival grounds faded away, replaced by the familiar world we knew. We stumbled out of the abandoned carnival, disoriented and traumatized.
Since that night, my friends and I have been plagued by nightmares. We hear the whispers in the darkness, and sometimes, when the wind blows just right, the distant laughter of the carnival barker reaches our ears. I can’t shake the feeling that the old carnival grounds still have a hold on us, that we’re never truly free from the strange happenings that occurred that fateful night.
So, consider this a warning. If you ever come across the old carnival grounds, resist the temptation to explore. The carnival barker awaits, and once you enter his realm, escape becomes a distant memory.