Crimson Reverie

A desolate fairground looms ahead, its rusted rides creaking in the wind. The entrance sign, hanging by a single chain, sways gently, smeared with dried blood. Shadows shift between broken stalls, where tattered remnants of stuffed animals lie abandoned, their fur stained crimson. The air is thick with the scent of decay, and faint, eerie laughter drifts from the darkness, as though the ghosts of the past still haunt the forgotten carnival.