𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 || 𝑑. 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑐𝘩𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟

𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐓𝐢𝐠𝐞𝐫

"YOU GUYS PICKED A HELL OF A time to join up. Take a seat," the man instructs us, sitting down behind a desk. My eyes roam around the room and the weird interior with all kinds of colors in Mr. Cooper's office makes my head spin.

"We've got all kinds of trouble." The elderly man clears papers from his desk into a drawer.

"What do you mean by that sir," I ask innocently because he might has valuable information for our case.

"Oh, a couple of folks got themselves murdered. Cops always seem to start here first. So, you three ever worked the circuit before?"

"Yes last year through Texas and Arkansas," Sam lies about our experiences and I need to clear my throat in order not to laugh. This boy is quick coming up with lies.

"Yeah," Dean and I chirp at the same time.

"Doing what? Ride jockies? Clowns?"

"Yeah it's uh a little bit of everything, I guess," the younger brother stutters.

"You have never worked a show in your lives before, have you," the man says, seeing through the lies.

"Actually no, but we really need the work. Oh and uh Dean here's got a thing for the bearded lady,"  I mention with a mischievous smile, trying to save this conversation somehow.

"Well- let me think for a moment." Mr. Cooper raises from his seat and turns around, massaging his chin.

"Bitch," Dean mutters and elbows me in the ribs while my joke has Sam cackling.

"Jerk," I retort and keep my serious facade up, hoping Mr. Cooper didn't hear us.

"Sir we really want this," Sam repeats with the fakest sincerity in his voice.

"Alright then- you can start right away."

_________

After an eternity of picking up trash in ridiculous red jackets, while surreptitiously scanning with the EMF readers, Dean and I sneak into the funhouse to look for possible traces.
Sam is somewhere else, scanning the area on his own.

"Let's make this quick, okay?" I'm not keen on staying in this funhouse longer than needed because it feels like the corridors are narrowing with every passing moment.

The bright neon lights illuminate the dark corridors and my muscles tense, the constant sounds of machines whirring edging my nerves.
Looking back over my shoulder Dean nods in agreement, guiding his EMF reader along the wall.

I turn my gaze forward and all of a sudden a doll dressed as a clown drops from the ceiling, dangling right in front of my face which causes me to stumble backwards straight into Dean's chest.

"Whoa easy there, Tiger-" Dean chuckles, his warm breath fanning over the skin of my neck. I shiver, my heart pounding as I catch my breath.

Dean's fingers curl around my upper arm and he turns me towards him. We're standing face to face, so close that our chests might touch if I took a deep breath.
He tilts his head, a sideways smirk playing on his lips. Damn.

"It's only a doll Adeline." The way Dean says my name eases my nerves, his voice low with a hint of amusement.

"Yeah-" I mumble, bringing distance between Dean and I. "The thing is- I hate fucking dolls, especially when they are dressed as clowns." I grab my knife, freeing it from the sheath and cut through the cord which held the doll in place, causing the doll to g fall on the floor.