Grey

The city was silent that day. The dark clouds garnished in black as they tread over the city of desolate buildings, tall and grey like gravestones that soar into the sky as far as the eye could see. A grim ceremony which left the skies in mourning, the clouds' caresses and cold fingers lingered through the streets affecting those who dared leave their homes in order to carry on with life.

Such people had their feeble protection of layers bundled upon them as some attempt to save themselves from the heavy atmosphere and morbid presence the clouds left in their wake. But yet wispy pearls of smoke still left their chapped lips symbolising how their layers still couldn't save them from the cold which seeped through their body leaving their eyes dull as their mundane existence carried on.

Like squid they drift through their day -through life- without striving for much just hooked to routine, wanting to get the day done and over. They lay oblivious of the sky above the towering buildings which surrounded them leaving them small and meaningless. To them it was just bad weather as when we grow older we lose touch of the magic we could see before. We lose touch of faith and vision. Life becomes monotonous.

The day was just an ordinary day to them, the days dragging on mindlessly as they looked forward to pay day or dreaded Christmas expenses or perhaps just their favourite programme. Like squid they just drifted. Such was life in the city, for humans.

The city remained grey with its concrete roads and pavements, the buildings made of stone, concrete and reflective windows showing merely more of the grey. The world was becoming swallowed up via the grey and its claws.

But then a show dared break out of the grey prosaic schedule, dared bring colour with its loud posters and towering tents: The bright orange contrasting against the dark billows of the sky, the spires of the tents and rides tearing into the dark clouds; Carousels of brightly painted horses with large emotional yet glassy eyes glaring into the grey capturing the sights of humans.

Such attractions luring them in teasingly with bait such as posters and smiling carnival workers dressed in bright colours cutting across the grey slashing away the boringness of everyday life and offering them a chance to escape if only for today before sinking the hooks into them. Tickets sold caused the mass rides flaring into life lighting up the skies with glaring multi-coloured lights. The light pollution seeming like lightening across the sober black of the night seeping in with its flashes and the low rumbling sounds of the machines turning and spiralling sounding like thunder.

It was like a storm was coming. Or perhaps it was merely already there without anyone noticing as they were all just caught inside the eye. But here was the carnival which claimed upon its posters to be 'the greatest show of your life'.

And this was where you came into this... entranced by the bright colours of the dancing rides and the tantalising tunes which haunted your ears which was played off the colourful organ you were lured like many of the other city folk into the carnival. Quickly you were thrown into a world of amazements, the sights and sounds surrounding him and pulling you further into the carnival.

This carnival was different to any that came before which you had been to, there was no signs of electronics only machinery made of cogs and powered by something one could only assume. If everything was as original as it appeared apparently steam. There was no ride decorated with famous faces from movies such as Harry Potter or Star Wars which seemed common place in such modern carnivals. It was as if you had been sent back into time where such carnivals were new and in their prime.

Iconic symbols of carnivals ran throughout with a house of mirrors, a Ferris wheel, carousels and even a fortune teller. Yet there was no sign of commercial input such as symbols of companies such as Coca Cola attempting to sell their goods. It was as if a blanket had been sent over the carnival leaving it in the past whilst the world moved on without it.

Because of such the carnival was like a breath of fresh air from the dampened city, one of the strange things was (you couldn’t help but notice) although many a person flocked into the carnival it didn’t seem to get crowded even though you had yet to see anyone leave. You dismissed such thoughts that played into the back of your head as it seemed irrelevant, like noticing the grass was green it seemed of similar importance.

It was more of a subconscious acknowledgement rather than something you took proper notice of. Something you wouldn’t remember later as more ‘important’ things was distracting you from the taste of toffee apples to the amazing sights of stilt walkers who paraded above the crowd upon striped and colourful legs.

Their masks contorted into gruesome grins as they bent down nearing their faces upon others, fluidity followed all of the stilt walkers’ movements as if they were caught in some kind of dance or were intimidating the wind itself which sent browned leaves spiralling through the carnival grounds reminding everyone of the changing of seasons and the decaying of summer.

Another thing would be the purple haze wafting through the air from the Fortune Teller’s tent, billowing from the bottom of the tent’s opening leaving a scent which drafted around your nose. Such an aroma of sweet yet bitterness as well as the sight of the eye leaving wonder whether it was some kind of dry ice or perhaps even crazily a potion. But as previously hinted, such was the place to rekindle the ideas of magic and such thoughts.

Like returning to your youth, when you were a child without much thoughts or knowledge of the bad of the world, where everything was much simpler. When you were considerably so much more... gullible.

Slowly your feet lead you away towards the tents following the indigo and violet hues of the smog and its scented breaths. Away to the fortune teller it leads you, in order to continue your fulfilment of the amazement of magic. Although you remain certain still that it just some hoax and such fortune telling didn’t exist, it’s all in the fun after all to believe just this once.

Inside the tent, the air is thick with fumes floating and tumbling in their own dance lit up via flickering candles which caused the scent which hung in the air around the tent and inside it the scent was almost overbearing and dizzying. Thick royal purple curtains filled the tent along with many a mismatched wooden table littered with assorted jars of various objects. The jars themselves were made of different coloured glass and it was much rather like an apothecary in one’s mind. Somewhere to get potions or such, but upon further thought it was that what made it a perfect place for a fortune teller.

Turning your sights towards the fortune teller inside the tent, a woman, as you expected as fortune tellers tended to stereotypically be so probably due to witch craft being associated with the ‘fairer’ sex. She was striking with a beautiful face almost as if she was constructed like a doll in order to be beautiful. Her face was heavily made up, much like a doll with full red lips and cat like make up around the eyes giving her an exotic look.

Her cat like appearance carried on as she smiled in such a manner one would expect in a cat thought cats as a general rule did not smile. It just held the same sly and elegance expected in cats. Her carefully made up nails hovered over the crystal ball in front of her, a clanking sound following afterwards as she tapped them onto the glass.

Not a word left her lips as none were to be needlessly wasted as she cast her eyes downwards to the crystal ball in front of her. Or perhaps she spoke not because she could not speak at all, the only sounds throughout the tent were the soft crackling of the candles, the background noise of outside and the clanking of her nails upon the crystal.

Where there had been transparent, mist formed inside the crystal creating a translucent affect. A pretty light show made to form beliefs and to fool. Probably triggered by some switch, modern technology made such seem unrealistic no matter how good the effects seemed. That was what they were effects.

As the ball carried on with its show of swirling colourful gases, tarot cards were laid face down on the table. Decorated finger nails hovered over each one before landing on one on the left. Slowly it was revealed showing a puppet. Not a sound left her lips but her body shook as if she was laughing silently. Her eyes curled up in cruel satisfaction and amusement painted upon her features.

The crystal ball turning a dull grey as if the wonders cast by the carnival was turning dull like the city. As if the spell was to end soon. Your feet were in charge then although you felt as if you should ask questions about the cards to be more inquisitive which was part of your human nature, to speak as you normally did, to say anything at all. But you did not instead you exited the tent feeling somewhat cheated or at most confused. You haven’t gained anything really from the visit aside from the mute doll like lady’s obvious amusement at you which seemed all rather rude in your opinion. No liked being laughed at after all.

Yet again your body was leading you around the carnival which oddly seemed deserted despite the many people around you. You were detached from the crowds and again it was strange but you don’t place it as strange as you were used to be on automatic when completed everyday tasks.

The more amount of time you spend there the more you noticed what had seemed new and fresh though old fashioned had a layer of grime and dust adorning them, even the people working at the carnivals themselves seemed affected by such change. Their previously ivory or near flawless skin, like the skin of a porcelain doll was aging slowly in a manner like paper.

Their pale skin was becoming yellowed and crinkled slowly and hardly noticeable at first until you fully looked at them then it was distinctive. Layers of skin were tearing away from their face slowly in front of your eyes, it was quite horrifying to watch considering the pace of it and how it appeared that their faces were melting. You wanted to run, escape, get out of this crazy place and away from its tricks. But again your body wasn't obeying as if it was on autopilot and you were just a spectator caught inside of this prison cell.

Your feet were dragging across the grass which seemed to wilt away as you approached the house of mirrors. The only part of this carnival which didn't seem to be under the twisted aging spell the rest of the carnival appeared to be which none of the other people seemed to realise as they carried obliviously on. Drifting on like squid. A scream of warning was what you wanted to yell at them but it was choked down in your throat before you could manage it. Your body wasn't going to listen to you.

And so into the house of mirrors you went, how foolish of you but how could you not obey your body which was so intent in leading you there though the gaping door. You were like a puppet... puppet wasn't that the image that had been on the tarot card? Was it a reflection of your fate?

Into the jaws of Death,

Into the mouth of Hell

Rode the six hundred

Remember that Psalm in the Bible? Number 23, ‘the valley of the shadow of death’ if not. It’s one most commonly read at funerals if you recognise it from anyway it would have been at a funeral. It felt like that now travelling through the door, as if it was the gaping jaws of some monster that was just longing to devour him and swallow him up leaving him in dark shadows as you perished in the valley of the beast’s stomach.

The mirrors like twisted and numerous teeth reflecting your pale face. You look terrified, the fear seeping deep into your eyes and clearly visible especially seeing how wide your eyes were. If you were not terrified you may have seemed mad judging you just with your wild expression. Such an expression being mirrored by the glass surrounded you like a labyrinth as you were dragged deeper and deeper into the house of mirrors. Your anguished and such a dreadful sea of negative expressions upon your face surrounded you completely as it seemed to attempt to smother you in this. Drown you completely, by complete will power you finally managed control your body and you began to ran attempting to get out of this mad maze.

But the mirrors were everywhere; it was like you would never get to escape. Then you noticed something, your reflections were staring at you no matter how you changed your position or expression they were staring blankly, emotionlessly at you not following your movements as if they weren't really reflections at all. After all wasn't a reflection supposed to show a replica of yourself which completed the same as you did. This was as if your image had been burnt into the mirror's memory and it was unnerving to have yourself watched by you unblinking and from all directions.

Then something caught your attention, one of those replicas weren't the same as the rest. In fact an evil smirk was plastered upon their face as looked intently at you as if they were staring straight into your soul and burning it in its mind. A strangled scream caught in your throat as this evil clone with its glowing unnatural red eyes approached you leaving you paralyzed held down by your other reflections. Their arms wrapping around you, leaving the mirror in a twisted manner, seeming ghastly as they did and deathly grey. Or perhaps doppelgangers would be a better word for them considering they seemed to have a physical form which left you ready to spoil your trousers by the end of this. It was just such an experience which left you trembling in fear and helpless.

The scarlet eyes of your doppelganger glistened like fresh blood as its lips twisted into a wide thin-lipped smile as it stepped out of the mirror, the form of the doppelganger crumpled and its body contorting into unnatural shapes as it left the mirror prisoner. A twisted mockery of your form with its bony fingers which caressed your cheeks as you shuddered in revulsion.

A scream left your lips only to be silenced by your doppelganger's hand and the other mockeries of yourself dragging you unwillingly into the mirrors. More screams leaving your lips as you struggled against them but the unsympathetic eyes of you doppelganger just smirked and pushed you in. Strength and health appearing to its body as you sank into the mirror being dragged in. With you gone it would be the real thing. Sure it was a twisted version filled out of your darkest thoughts made from all the evil and without empathy. A perfect serial killer perhaps. But with your real self gone, it had every chance to live your life. And destroy others.

The poster was right, it had been the greatest show of your life. It was terrible but great... and after this your life would be over once in the mirror. And such a great show your other self would put on. Shame you wouldn’t be able to see it.

The next day, the carnival had vanished by the first signs of sunlight and there were no signs that the carnival had ever been there at all. There were no signs of where the tents had been nailed in, no flattened grass from the people who trampled over it, not even any litter or old posters. It was like it didn’t exist and never had. Just a figment of people’s imaginations. From ashes to ashes. From grey to grey. It was all over. You awoke panting and sweating glad to find it had been just a nightmare as you appeared in your bed and you were yourself.

Sleepily dragging yourself out of bed, you started this morning like any other. Routine was key in your life after all, rubbing your eyes you entered the bathroom all ready to brush your teeth but your eyes widened in horror at the sight of piercing crimson eyes looking back at you from the bathroom mirror and a twisted smirk.

"Hello Sammie, long time no see." 

And that was how the end of Sam Winchester as the world knew it came to place... but it was just the beginning for another

[I had no idea of what celebrity/fandom to add XP so hard... so I randomly make it an AU Supernatural as my friend likes it XP]