I couldn't sleep that night. My body yearned for rest, but my mind was relentless. I kept looking out across the lake at the mountain Arthur had ntioned. I really wished it had been overcast so I could see the light reflected in the clouds. Just so sign of a way out of here would have made feel sane.
I tried talking to Camden about dying, but he wasn't ready to talk about it and I didn't have much to say either. I was still numb. It was strange, I kept having these miniature monts of panic where I would forget that I wasn't dying. Right as I was about to sleep I would suddenly jolt awake and pat my body down looking for the gashes and cuts that I rember receiving.
They were never there, of course.
When I had taken a shower, the hot water running over my skin was uncomfortable. That skin had been burned earlier. It's like my mind hadn't really gone back to normal.
As I lay there, I considered saying all of this to Camden. I could only imagine that he was going through the sa thing. But I've never been good at talking about things like this and after having been inducted into the small group of people keeping Carousel’s enforcer a secret, it almost felt hypocritical to try and be open about my feelings. Like I didn't deserve to.
I contemplated exactly how much I could tell my friends about the axe murderer. As I saw it, there were two possibilities. Possibility One: I can't talk about the axe murderer himself but I am unrestricted otherwise. If that was the case, it would be pretty easy to tell my friends things. I would just have to leave out a few details. Possibility Two: I can't even acknowledge that I know what happened at all. That one was trickier.
Arthur and Roxie appeared to have gone with the second choice. They acted like they didn't even know what happened to people who disappeared. They didn't hint much at all. They didn't try to get clever about it.
All of the other players had been able to connect the dots over ti. You had to play the ga. They knew why players disappeared more or less. They just didn't know how.
A further question: did I need to tell them? Most players followed the rules pretty closely without being told there was a literal axe hanging over their heads. They knew there were consequences. Why risk it if there was nothing to gain? What was the difference between an axe murderer and spontaneous combustion as far as the other players were concerned? Missing is missing. Dead is dead.
A final question: how long would I wait before I tried to get clever and ended up saying too much? The problem solver in wanted to outsmart this restriction. I only hoped that desire would fade with ti. I thought about how I might hint things to them, how I might test the boundaries.
I guess I'm not good at keeping secrets.
I don't think I ever fell asleep that night. I just rember eventually it started to get lighter outside and the birds started to chirp and the little campers ca out and started chasing each other around playing tag and daring each other to go into the abandoned cabin.
Morning at Camp Dyer, as always, ca without my permission.
The next morning was breakfast as usual. The veteran players treated normally. The ones that I didn't know that well glanced at for an extra few seconds, but they seed more curious than unwelcoming.
Grace had planned for us to eat tacos that morning. So of the senior players had just done a run to Eternal Savers Club, Carousel’s version of Costco, where you can get huge savings on bulk items. Of course, I'm pretty sure they just cleared a storyline there and then looted it for everything that was on our shopping list, but either way, we saved a lot of money.
Every ti soone made a run to E.S.C., it was like Christmas ca to Camp Dyer. They would bring back bags full of candy, microwave snacks, and whatever other goodies were on sale.
I sat with my friends. I don't know if they got over not telling them what had happened to Janette, but I think that they were developing the understanding, however begrudgingly. They would get it with ti. I hoped they would never learn about it the hard way.
With what had happened to Janette, Adeline had told us that we had to go on storylines more often than before. Just until they knew how long of a break we had before Carousel would co knocking. I didn't have to go anywhere but I made it clear that I wanted to go with them if they went on a storyline.
Truth be told, I don't think they wanted to go.
Luckily, Chris, Antoine's older brother, had a compromise for us.
He told us about a very easy storyline that was more of a brain teaser and was actually kind of fun. He couldn't tell us details, or at least he wouldn't tell us details, but he said that our chance of dying was lower than it had been at the Astralist. I guess we should have told him how close we ca to dying to the Astralist.
“Can I co?” Soone asked from behind us.
I turned to look and, to my surprise, it was Dina, the Outsider who had arrived at Carousel at the sa ti we had. She had latched on to a few different teams since we got there. I couldn't see her plot armor level or any of her tropes because she had that Outsider ability that made it hard to get any insight into her. Guarded Personality, I think it was called.
She wore her brown leather jacket and distressed blue jeans, the sa as she had when she got here.
That must have ant that her grit was higher than my Savvy. I still hadn't used my stat tickets. I was contemplating sharing them with my friends in order to buy back favor. That wasn't a smart idea, but I kept it in my back pocket.
“Sure,” Anna said. She gave us all a quick glance as if to say We are letting her co!
Dina smiled. She moved over to the table that we were sitting at right across from .
“Do you think I can get you to do a detour for first? I an before we go on the storyline that you were talking about.”
It was like she was asking personally, not the group.
“What kind of detour?” I asked.
Dina leaned in close. “I need to go see a psychic in town. Lara said that it can be a little bit troubleso to get there unless you have soone with a scouting trope. The trouble is, she told that person had to be about the sa level as so I can't ask any of the veterans. I asked Janette but I'm sure you could guess how that went.”
I was taken aback. I didn't know what to say. The trope that I had gotten from Janette, (I don’t like it here…), was a scouting trope. It wasn't the best one. The information it gave was based on a vague feeling of unease and fear, but it would probably keep us alive.
“You an like a real psychic?” Kimberly asked. Truthfully, she sounded like she was excited. I think Kimberly had been into astrology back before Carousel. Astrology probably didn't have the appeal anymore. After all, Carousel had different stars.
Dina nodded.
“Are you sure it's safe?” Anna asked.
Dina shrugged. “I don't think that Lara would have told about her if it wasn't safe.”
“Do you an Madam Celia?” I asked.
Dina looked surprised. “Yeah, you heard of her?”
“I t her yesterday,” I said.
I coughed. I didn’t want to invite questions about the Grotesque storyline.
Before we could ask any more questions like “Why do you need to go see a psychic?” Dina was up and gone.
“et you out front in an hour?” She asked as she left.
And that was that.
“Wonder whose turn it is to die now,” Antoine said as she walked away.
Kimberly gave him an exasperated look. “Don’t say that!”
To be fair, it was a good question.
Honestly, I felt really cool guiding them through Carousel. Arthur had always looked cool when he was telling us what to do to prevent triggering ons. I had likened it to traversing a war zone. Everyone was really afraid of storylines so they listened to every word that ca out of my mouth.
“Switch to the other side of the street.”
“Wait for this NPC to pass.”
“Don’t stare in that shop’s windows.”
“Don’t walk too close to the sewer grate.”
Stuff like that. I would have looked a whole lot less badass if they knew that the reason we were avoiding all those things was that I saw phrases on the red wallpaper like "This place gives the creeps," "I'm getting goosebumps," "Sothing doesn't feel right," and, of course, "Honey, I’m scared."
If we could have walked in a straight line we would have been there in an hour, maybe an hour and a half. It took us nearly three.
Ethereal Emporium: Antiques and Spiritual Readings was a standalone shop in an outlet strip next to a restaurant that served baby back ribs and “Johansen’s Fine Furs.”
Once we were in the parking lot, we were ho-free.
As we approached the store, the others waited for to give the all-clear before they entered. I gave them a curt nod.
Dina was in first.
Say what you will about Madam Celia Dane, but her store slled amazing. I could almost feel my aura cleansing itself with every breath I took.
When we entered, a bell on the door rang. No one was out front when we got there. The place was filled with antique furniture and curios filled with strange objects: crystal balls, a rabbit’s foot, various tarot card decks, and other occult items.
“Watch out,” I said. “So of the things in here are ons. But… you have to buy them to trigger them.”
How convenient. Ons for sale. It was such a hassle to have to go find one on your own.
Perhaps the most interesting item in the store was a red chanical box in the corner.
It was Silas the Showman.
The only difference was that this model was not powered on. The chanical fortune teller stayed silent. His lights stayed off. I wasn't going to risk pressing his button to see if anything happened. I took a mont to examine him up close. I half-expected him to wake up and start jabbering but he never did.
“Hello?” Dina called out.
We listened intently toward the back of the store. The door had been open so surely an employee was there.
As we were listening, a loud roar like a lion or bear sounded from across the parking lot.
“It’s fine,” I said, as we stared out the window to see what had made the noise.
“Greetings!” A voice sounded from the back.
A doorway at the back of the store had been covered in colorful beads that you had to walk through as you passed from room to room. As I turned to look, Madam Celia, the tall serious woman I have t the day before, entered the room through a shower of beads.
Madam Celia Dane, Proprietor—Ethereal Emporium: Antiques and Spiritual Readings. NPC. Plot Armor: 50.
“You have co for guidance,” she said. It wasn't a question. She said it like it was a fact. It was a good guess; most people who go to psychic shops probably are looking for guidance. Or lost wills.
Dina stepped forward. “Yes. I heard you might be able to help .”
Madam Celia gave her a look over. “I may not be able to help you, but I can certainly send you on your path. Co. Sit.”
Celia gestured toward a room near the back that was closed off. We walked in the direction she pointed and entered a small, enclosed room with a giant table in the middle surrounded by seats with overstuffed cushions. The room was dark, and the air was thick with incense.
“I’ve never done this before,” Dina said.
Madam Celia gave her a smile. “Don't worry dear. I have enough experience for the both of us.”
We crowded into the room, each taking a seat. We allowed Dina to sit in the chair opposite Madam Celia.
Madam Celia took one of Dina’s hands and held it. She closed her eyes.
“You are on a quest,” she said.
Dina nodded, but then, realizing that Celia couldn’t see her, said “Yes, I am.”
Her voice ca out weak and vulnerable in a way that I hadn't expected.
Madam Celia didn't say anything for a while. It was like she was sowhere else ntally. Even in the dimly lit room, I could see her eyes moving behind her eyelids.
“You poor thing,” she said. “Dealt an unfair hand.”
Dina didn't say anything. But she looked very uneasy, sad maybe.
“And you ca here hoping that I would give you the answers. But that isn't my role here. We all have a role here, in Carousel. You’ll learn that soon enough. You ca to this place as Orpheus, but will you leave with your prize? I cannot tell you the way, but a darker power might be able to.”
“A… darker power?” Dina asked. She sounded hesitant.
“I think it would be very strange for you to turn your nose up at this point,” Celia said with the ghost of a smirk.
Dina looked down.
“I don't know what it will take for you to get to the end of your story. But I do know the next step.”
She reached a hand into her pocket and pulled out a ticket. She handed it to Dina.
“You will need your friends’ help for this,” she said. “To get to the end and back again you will need many things, to accomplish many feats. Don’t worry, there is a path that will lead you there. You need… a guide who knows the way.”
“Where?”
“One step after another,” Madam Celia said. She pointed to the ticket that she had just handed Dina. “This is your next step. If only you have the bravery to take it. Now go. Never make the mistake of thinking you have ti to waste.”
Madam Celia herded us out of the store and back out into the parking lot. There were still animal noises coming from sowhere in the strip mall.
“Are you going to tell us about that?” Antoine asked.
Dina didn’t say anything. She took out the ticket and showed it to us.
We examined it. It was different than the tickets we'd seen before, slightly smaller than a trope ticket. It had no imagery on it but instead, read:
Now Playing
Antemortem
Beneath that were directions to a place called Berryman’s Dive. It ended with "A Private Showing Just For You!"
“What is this?” Kimberly asked.
I'd been trying to figure that out myself. It presented itself like an actual movie ticket, but the address was to what I assud was a dive bar. And then it hit .
“Madam Celia is a quest-giver,” I said. Most of the others looked at , puzzled.
“That makes sense,” Camden said. He would know.
“A quest-giver?” Anna asked.
“In a video ga, a quest-giver is an NPC whose job is to give you a quest to do. A mission. I think that's what Madam Celia is. You go talk to her, and she gives you directions to a storyline.”
The others took turns staring at the ticket. They all seed interested. Up until that point, we had only gone on storylines that the more senior players had vetted. We had never actually tried to let Carousel guide us, but it clearly had the ability to. After all, Roxie had said that there was a tutorial. There had to be quest-givers.
“You don't think that what she said was true?” Dina asked. I think from the look on her face she really didn't want to be right. I think that she wanted Madam Celia’s words to be real and not just an NPC playing a part.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Has anything actually been real here? Everything's just a performance stacked on another performance.”
Dina didn't say anything. She almost looked sad but within a few seconds, she had wiped away any trace of emotion.
Anna must have sensed the sa thing I did. She put her hand on Dina’s shoulder and said, “We can go check it out. It doesn't hurt to look. Riley can get us out of there if there's anything dangerous.”
Anna was putting an awful lot of trust in my new trope. She was putting a lot of trust in . Hopefully, it wasn’t misplaced.
Berryman’s Dive was to the north, a mile or so out of town. In fact, it wasn't too far from Halle Castle. Avoiding ons felt so much more possible now that I could actually see them before we got to them.
On one of the streets, there was an Open House, where a beautiful colonial ho was being sold. We had to literally go around the neighborhood in order not to trigger whatever on was involved with that house. I assu it had sothing to do with the fact that the door was left wide open.
Eventually, we ended up on a dusty road with not much else around. As we walked down this road, dusk started to fall. It never got any darker or lighter. It was just perpetual dusk. Against the falling darkness, we saw it: Berryman’s Dive.
It was just a small country bar out in the middle of nowhere. A few cars were parked outside. It had a large neon sign with its na on it as well as neon signs with the nas of a few of Carousel’s off-brand beers.
“Are we good to go in?” Anna asked.
I nodded my head. I couldn't see any ons involved in just entering the establishnt.
“I hope you kids brought your fake IDs,” Dina joked. She took the lead as we moved closer to the building.
I noticed that Camden was hanging back. I turned back to see what was wrong. It was a terrible ti to risk ending up in a difficult storyline. I don't think either of us was in a good ntal place to be fighting for our lives again.
“What's up?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said.
“Okay.” If he said it was nothing I wasn’t going to press the issue.
“It’s just… Look at where we are,” he said.
I looked around unsure of what he ant. He pointed his finger along the road that we had traveled and then along another road that intersected that one. The bar was in the middle of nowhere at the corner of those two roads.
I figured out what he was trying to point out.
We were at a crossroads.
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