Chapter 3 – Paranormal Scavenger Hunt

I stretched out along the back seat of the van, my jacket being used as a makeshift pillow. The drive to the carnival was taking a lot longer than I had anticipated which normally would have made me very antsy. Being cooped up in the back of a car was not my idea of fun by any means. The moment the sun disappeared from the sky I hunkered down and decided to make myself comfortable. When the rain started, my eyes had begun to droop. It had been that way for the last hour or so, Dean's music playing softly in the silence of the vehicle.

"You sure this is a good idea?" I heard Dean ask softly from where he was sitting behind the wheel.

"What?"

Keeping my eyes closed, I listened to see what the elder Winchester would say next. From the moment we had stepped out of the Roadhouse his body language just screamed he was not onboard with the idea of me being on the case.

"She's got no experience, Sam." Dean's voice remained low, nearly masked by the music.

I heard Sam sigh. "She's gotta start somewhere, Dean."

"That's just it, she doesn't," Dean argued. "What the hell, man? Dragging someone into this line of work? That never ends well."

"Would you rather she went out on her own?" Sam responded sharply. "Dude, we can help her. I'd rather show her the right way then just letting her go out there half-cocked and getting killed."

There was a long pause before Dean said, "You like her."

"What – no!" Sam stuttered.

Dean chuckled. "Admit it, you've got the hots for the bartender."

"Shut up." Sam's quick response sounded more defensive than denial.

Opening my eyes, I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks hearing the sudden turn in topic. Being confined to the Roadhouse in the recent months wasn't the best place for exposure to decent looking men. Most of the ones that came through were older, run down hunters; men who had families and wives at one point. They were men jaded by the life they were subjected to.

Even after Jeremy, I didn't feel a battered and broken as I should of. My fiancé, the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with was gone and I didn't feel sadness or anger – I felt hollow. Like someone had come by and carved a perfect hole where my heart was and left it an empty cavern to be filled. Did that make me jaded as well or just numb?

"You gotta be kidding me? A killer clown?" Dean asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents," Sam said, shining a flashlight onto the file I had given him earlier.

"Ripped them to shreds, actually," I spoke up, my voice reverberating through the small space. I slowly sat up, my bones creaking as I did so.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," Dean stated dryly, looking at me through the rearview mirror.

I scoffed. "It was only so I could see your ugly mug."

Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably, glancing back at me for a moment before saying, "They were all visiting the Cooper Carnival the day they were killed."

"So how do you know we're not dealing with some psycho carnie in a clown suit?" Dean asked without skipping a beat, turning his gaze over to Sam briefly.

Leaning forward so I was hovering between the two, I shook my head. "Cops have no leads and all the carnies were tearing down shop. Air-tight alibis all around."

"Plus, the girl said she saw the clown vanish into thin air," Sam added, casually glancing over at me before adding, "Cops are saying trauma, of course."

"I know what you're thinking, Sam," Dean said, looking over at Sam and smiling. "Why'd it have to be clowns?"

Arching an eyebrow, I looked between Dean and Sam. The younger Winchester shifted uncomfortably before giving Dean a glare. Dean just chuckled and focused back on the road as Sam looked back down to the file in his hand. It took me a few moments to catch on before it hit me. Sam was afraid of clowns, or at least disliked them tremendously.

"You didn't think I would remember, did you?" Dean continued, the smirk still on his face. "You still bust out crying when you see Ronald McDonald on the television."

"We all have our phobias," I injected, reaching forward to turn off the music.

Dean gave me a scandalized stare as his gaze followed my hand to my arm and finally my face. Furrowing my brow in confusion, I slowly drew my hand back and away from the radio. When he was satisfied with my distance from the radio he proceeded to reach forward and turn the music up a little louder. Not a moment later, Sam reached over and shut the stereo off completely.

"At least I'm not afraid of flying."

"Planes crash," Dean defended himself from Sam's declaration.

"And apparently, clowns kill."

The van fell silent for a moment as those words sunk in. I would be lying if I said I didn't find this argument amusing. It was revealing and entertaining all rolled into one. Dean was afraid of flying, Sam was afraid of clowns. It was so human. When I thought about hunters, like the ones who came through the Roadhouse, I saw the tough exterior and big man attitudes. The Winchesters took that and threw it right out the window.

Dean cleared his throat. "So these types of murders, they ever happen before?" he asked both Sam and I.

"According to Sky's file, 1981. The Bunker Brothers Circus," Sam answered.

"It happened three different times, three different places." I nodded as I leaned forward once more. "Same way with the most recent murders."

"That's weird." Dean hummed. "If it is a spirit, usually it's bound to a specific locale: a house or a town."

"So, how's this one moving from city to city. Carnival to carnival?" I asked.

"Cursed object, maybe? Spirit attaches itself to something. Carnival carries it around," Dean theorized, looking between me and Sam.

"Great. Paranormal scavenger hunt," Sam said sarcastically, snapping the file shut.

I stood there with Sam while Dean was off talking to the cops that were casing the carnival. I shot a nervous glance up at Sam who just shook his head. Shaking my hand slightly and tapping it against my thigh, I glanced around. People were moving past us, getting the carnival set up for the day, one small person stopped to look at the two of us before scoffing and walking away.

"You sure you wanna do this?" Sam asked, glancing down at me, the discomfort clear on his face.

"Do you?" I asked, looking back up at him.

He nodded before saying. "You have a chance to back out. This life isn't for everyone."

Arching an eyebrow, I crossed my arms over my chest. "I don't have anything to go back to."

"Skylar–"

I gave him a forced smile before shaking my head. I placed my hand on his arm for a moment before moving away from him. I noticed Dean was heading in our direction, but if I was gonna learn you had to branch out right? I moved away from Sam, my sights set on some tents a few yards away. I made my movements quick and determined hoping no one would stop me and ask what in the hell I was doing there.

The carnival looked relatively normal from the outside. The rides were your everyday run of the mill attractions while the booths were full of darts, water games, and illusions. Nothing really screamed scary, just…normal. It was odd to think there was one psycho clown running around ruining it for everyone else. But this is what it was all about. Taking out the one thing that ruined it for everyone. I came to a sudden stop. What was I doing here? Dean was right, I shouldn't be here.

Rolling my eyes, I turned back around to head back towards the Winchesters. I needed to apologize to Sam. He didn't deserve the cold shoulder, he was just trying to help. Their second guessing was beginning to make me second guess myself. Taking a few steps back in their direction, my legs froze when I caught sight of the person standing a few yards in front of me.

"Allie?" I asked, my voice laced with confusion.

I took a couple steps forward towards her, concern filling my body only to come to another sharp stop. Right before my eyes her skin began to redden, like she was receiving a massive sunburn in seconds; bubbles began to form along the reddened parts of her arms, face, and chest. I stood there, my mouth agape as her face contorted into a look of pure terror, a silent scream forming on her lips. The burning skin began charring, her once beautifully tanned skin turning black and falling from her body.

I jumped as a hand was placed on my shoulder. I whipped around, swinging my fist at whoever had touched me. Dean's arm flew up blocking the poor form of the punch I threw with a startled look on his face. Irritation flitted across his face until he noticed the look on my own face. I must have looked horrified because he went from about to nag me to worry.

"Skylar, what's wrong?" His voice came out low. "What happened?"

My body tensed as my head whipped around to look over my shoulders since Dean had placed his hands on my arms. My eyes widened when I realized there was no one there. Allie wasn't there, she wasn't burning alive. Wrinkling my brows, I turned to look back at Dean who's eyes were slightly wide as he stared at me.

"Nothing," I whispered, shaking my head.

Dean's grip on my arms relaxed as he shook his head. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

My heart raced hearing him say that. No. No, no, no, no. I stepped back from Dean, trying to keep my composure. Shaking my head, I whipped back around towards where Allie had been and she still wasn't there. The carnies were moving through the area like she had never even been there in the first place.

"Skylar, come on talk to me."

"I'm fine, Dean," I responded sharply. "I thought I saw someone I knew, that's all."

Dean gave me a suspicious look before nodding slowly. "Sam and I are going to check out some of the tents…You game?"

I nodded. "Yeah just, um, give me a second."

Dean shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat."

He took a few steps away from me and towards Sam who was approaching us with a confused look on his face. Dean stopped him, the two beginning to speak in hushed tones allowing me the moment I needed to slip my prepaid from my pocket. Dialing the number I knew by heart, I waited while it rang.

'Hey, it's Allie. I'm not here so leave your name and digits and I'll call back.'

My heart sank hearing the answering machine. "Al, it's Sky. I know I haven't called in a while…I'm sorry about that. Things are just a little crazy right now. I just wanted to talk to you." I struggled to keep my voice even. "I'll call you later."

Letting out a shaky breath, I hung up the phone before sliding it back into my pocket. Turning around, I saw Sam standing there with Dean, a concerned look on his face. Dean looked more like he was ready to pass out from boredom. I closed the distance between the two, putting a brave smile on my face.

"Let's do this." I nodded.

Sam tilted his head slightly. "You okay?"

"Mhm," I responded, pointing towards the tents. "Let's uh, go find Mr. Cooper."

Dean nodded, shooting Sam a look I couldn't quite decipher before he turned his back to us. It didn't surprise me in the least bit that Dean acted like he was in charge. He just oozed that arrogance necessary to dive head first into the douchebag person required for such a job. Glancing up at Sam, he just shook his head almost in a 'don't ask' kind of way.

We followed Dean into one of the larger tents. There was so much going on at once, it was hard to really pin anyone down to talk to them. Dean then set his sights on the man who was throwing knives at the bulls-eye a few feet away. Sam and I hung back, letting Dean do all the talking. I mean I was just here to shadow, right?

"Excuse me. We're looking for a Mr. Cooper. Have you seen him?" Dean asked.

The older man turned around and gazed at Dean with a flabbergasted look on his face. At least I was going to assume that was the emotion considering his eyes were covered by a pair over very dark sunglasses.

"What is that, some kind of joke?" the man retorted.

Dean shook his head, confused, glancing back at me and Sam. We both shrugged in response as Dean turned back to look at the knife thrower. A moment later, he pulled the sunglasses from his face displaying a pair of milky eyes that were definitely not something you see every day. The man was legally blind. A look of pure horror crossed Dean's face when he realized his mistake.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry," Dean apologized, taking a step back and away from the man.

"You think I wouldn't give my eyeteeth to see Mr. Cooper…or a sunset or anything at all?"

I bit my lip, stifling a laugh. Glancing up at Sam just as he looked down to me, a similar look on his face. This was just too comical to pass up and Dean had done it to himself. Crossing my arms over my chest, I stood there, watching as Dean all but flailed in front of us. His mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish.

"Either of you wanna give me a little help here?"

Sam and I looked at each other and responded together, "Not really."

Dean gave a sarcastic smile as another voice rang through the tent drawing all of our attention to it, except for Barry of course. Instead of there being a normal person standing there, I was surprised to find it was anything but. The little man giving us a nasty glare.

"Hey, Barry, is there a problem?"

"Ya, this guy hates blind people," Barry said, causing Dean to turn in shock.

"No I don't," he said, laughing a little in disbelief.

I moved a little closer to Sam, my arm bumping his arm. The little man looked like he was a few seconds away from wailing on Dean. Although I'm sure that would be extremely amusing, definitely not something I cared to witness when there was a killer clown on the loose.

"Hey, buddy, what's your problem?" the little man asked, pointing at Dean.

"It's just a little misunderstanding." I covered my mouth trying to keep myself from bursting out laughing at Dean's predicament.

"'Little'? You son of a bitch!" the guy shouted. Sam wasn't trying to hold in his laughter at all.

"No, no, no, no, I'm just—can somebody please tell me where Mr. Cooper is? Please." Dean just didn't want his ass to get kicked. At that moment Mr. Cooper walked in.

"What's going on in here?" he asked, looking between me, Sam, and Dean.

"Are you Mr. Cooper?" Dean asked. I stopped laughing as did Sam.

"Yes, I am. What can I do for you?"

"We were thinking about joining up," Sam said, walking closer to Dean.

I took this as my cue to duck and run because there was no way in hell I was going to pretend to be a carnie. I walked out of the tent and looked around at the moving world around me, well the moving carnival.

People lugging around boxes, walking carnival acts around, cooking carnival food. There was nothing particularly appealing about carnivals. Then again, growing up how I had, not much exposure to these kinds of things would hinder any sort of appreciation for them.

I walked around for a little longer, watching as families began showing up with their children. Some teenagers showed up as well, loitering around. One family in particular caught my attention; husband and wife were holding hands with their young daughter. They were lifting her up and swinging her as they walked. The wife looked quite pregnant as well, laughing at something her husband had said.

Glancing down towards the ground, something glittering caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. Looking down, at my right hand, I noticed my engagement ring was resting on my ring finger. After Jeremy had died, I moved the ring over to the other hand. It just didn't feel right having it on anymore. It felt even worse when I had taken it off.

I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I hadn't heard Sam calling out my name. I didn't realize he was even there until he placed his hand carefully on my shoulder. I jumped, whipping around to face the younger Winchester with a startled look on his face. I put my hand to my chest before letting out a sigh of relief.

"Jesus, Sam," I muttered. "What are you doing?"

"Dean got a job with the carnival." Sam nodded over to where Dean was shrugging on a bright red windbreaker.

I scoffed before looking up at him. "So you play whatever part is necessary to get close to the problem?"

"Exactly and in this case…" Sam trailed off.

"Carnies," I finished for him nodding. "Smart."

Sam smiled, glancing down. He looked to the ground between us before his eyes traveled up to meet mine. The smile was still on his face, forcing my own smile to form. Even with the pressing matters on my mind, I couldn't help but smile. There was just something about the way Sam Winchester looked at me that I couldn't shake. Even back at the Roadhouse, there was something about the way he presented himself that made you want to immediately trust him.

"I figured you would have been a carnie with Dean," I stated, looking away from Sam as I pushed my hands into the back pockets on my jeans.

Sam shook his head, a sheepish look crossing his face as his cheeks grew red. He put his hand on the back of his head as a chuckle escaped his lips. "Well, since you're here I thought we could cover ground pretending to be here for the carnival…together."

I raised an eyebrow before a small laugh escaped my lips. "Well that is definitely a new one."

"I can go–" Sam started but I shook my head.

"No, it's." I smiled. "It's fine."

Sam grinned before motioning towards some of the booths. The next few hours flew by in such a quick fashion that I had wished they had gone by a little slower. Despite the fact that we were on a case, Sam and I hit every booth at the carnival. At each booth it was like a different lesson, the uses for salt, holy water, how to kill a vampire or a werewolf, the uses of a devil's trap and exorcising a demon. Each one of course was done subtly so no one knew what we were really talking about.

To the outside world, Sam and I looked like a couple enjoying a day out at the carnival. Same even tried showing me how to hold a gun using those BB guns to knock over the bottle. I knew how to use a gun, but I was more than happy to let him go over it with me. There seemed to be this sense of accomplishment that shone through when he thought he was responsible for me hitting bottle after bottle. In all reality that was because of the contests Jo and I would hold, who could take out the most targets. Jo usually won, but that didn't mean I wasn't a decent shot.

Dean had come past us a few times, muttering about it being unfair that we got the easy job. He on the other hand, was stuck picking up trash while inconspicuously scanning the employee only areas with the EMF for any signs of ghost activity. While Dean thought we weren't work, Sam and I were actually diligently scanning the area with EMF. We just happened to be having a little more fun doing it than he was. The sun was beginning to set, meaning our time was running short. We had yet to find anything ghostly and there was a chance this thing was choosing its next victims as we spoke.

"Where would you usually put something really old and creepy?" Sam asked suddenly as we came to a stop outside the carnival's sadistic looking funhouse.

I shrugged. "Depends on how important it was." I glanced up at the funhouse when I heard maniacal laughter coming from a speaker. "Or I would put it in plain sight."

Sam looked over to where I was, a skeptical look falling across his face. Pointing to the rather large trailer, he asked, "You want to go in there?"

"All part of the job, Sammy." I grinned, lightly slapping him on the chest.

I moved past him and up the stairs to the funhouse, not waiting to see if he had followed or not. We had done it his way, let him tell me all about the lore most of which I knew. Then we had gone over all the ways they knew about to find and get rid of ghosts, again things I knew but let him tell me anyways. Now, it was time to prove to Sam that I was listening and I could take charge. I didn't really have to prove anything to him in all honesty, but I wanted to. There was a part of me desperate for the approval of John Winchester's sons.

Entering the funhouse, I pulled the EMF reader from my jacket, making sure to keep it close to my body in case anyone stumbled past me. The funhouse was dark, there were dim lights above the walkways and along the floors to guide you through the attraction. All the door frames and wood surrounding the crazy mirrors were painted neon colors, giving the funhouse a trippy effect. Mirrors were moving to simulate some sort of LSD trip while recorded laughing and screaming noises were echoing through the fun house.

The longer I stood in the funhouse looking around, the more unnerved I was beginning to feel. Like someone was watching me, calculating my every move. Glancing behind me, I noticed Sam was glancing around, giving the funhouse a rather sickened look. He wasn't liking this very much either.

"Not too fond of funhouses?" I asked him as he came to a stop next to me.

Shaking his head, he answered, "Ghosts, vampires, and demons…those I can handle. Killer clowns and LSD fueled funhouses…not my idea of fun."

I scoffed. "Jeremy used to love this kind of thing."

Sam gave me a knowing look as we moved through the main hall, our EMFs poised and searching for waves. "Yeah, Jess did too."

I glanced over at Sam, the crestfallen look on his face immediately alerting me into the dangerous territory we had dragged ourselves into. During our romp around the carnival he had spotted the engagement ring, which led us into the awkward conversation of past romances. Sam knew about Jeremy, and I knew about Jess and the almost engagement.

Clearing my throat, I moved away from Sam and down a different hallway. The Plexiglas boxes in the wall held various items, such as clown dolls and ancient china dolls. Some were even Chucky-like dolls. I held the EMF out to each one, but there was only a flat signal. Whatever the ghost was attached to it wasn't anything in here. Walking a little further, I came across a mini pipe organ playing some old tune that made me feel like I was in the final scene of a Saw movie.

"You find anything?" Sam asked, coming up to my side.

"Nothing," I murmured, glancing towards the exit. "I think it's safe to say this was a bust."

Sam agreed, suggesting we head out to find Dean. Not arguing with that logic, I walked alongside him the exit not that far away. Before we reached it, a trap door in the ceiling opened up, dropping a skeleton down with rope wrapped around its neck. I jumped, my hand instantaneously wrapping around Sam's arm as I scrambled back in shock. My eyes were wide as I looked from the skeleton to Sam. He was breathing quick in shock, but that didn't stop him from whipping out the EMF and checking it.

"Please tell me that heart attack was justifiable," I stated, looking from the EMF to Sam.

Sam shook his head. "Those are real bones…but they aren't haunted."

Shaking my head, I followed him out of the funhouse. The cool air was a pleasant change from the steam filled stuffy funhouse we had just exited. The carnival was in full swing considering this was its last weekend in this town. Sam was on the phone talking to Dean while I was left there waiting for our next move. Sam and I waited in silence for Dean, who seemed to take his sweet time to actually show up.

"What took you so long?" Sam asked, his irritation evident by the look he was giving his brother.

"Long story," Dean responded, shaking his head.

"Mommy, look at the clown!" a young girl called out.

Dean whipped around while Sam and I adverted our gazes to locate the little girl. When we did, she was pointing to a space between one of the trailers. A space that had absolutely nothing there.

Furrowing my brows, I watched as the mother looked to where her daughter was pointing before asking, "What clown?"

Dean and Sam exchanged looks before Sam looked back at me, nodding. I didn't have to be told what came next. Someone needed to follow that family, just so we could protect them. The ghost had chosen them as its next target. Giving Sam's arm a gentle squeeze, I moved past him and Dean.

"Hey Sky," I heard Dean call out. Stopping, I looked at him over my shoulder. "Call us if you run into anything."

I nodded before focusing back on my task. Time to prove I could do this.

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