The most frustrating part of playing the ga at Carousel wasn’t the dying. No, dying was easy, physically if not emotionally, and there were plenty of monsters around to help you do it.
The most frustrating part was that even when you knew who the bad guys were and had so idea of how to defeat them, you still had to put on the show. There was a back and forth where the audience might not know who would win, and you were right along with them, not knowing, because if you didn’t perform, it didn’t matter whether you had the answer. You could die holding the monster’s weakness in your hand.
I breathed deeply as I stood over the refreshnts table in the common area of the underground hangout. I was On-Screen. I had to look nervous, trying to sneak without raising suspicion. Luckily, I wasn’t the only player there. Dina was nearby, and she ca to the refreshnts table to stand next to .
“You said there would be a punch bowl,” I whispered to her.
“There is. It’s right there,” she said, glancing back at the table.
“Dina, that is lemonade,” I said.
“So?” she asked.
“You said punch. Punch is always red.”
“No, it isn’t,” she said. “Why does it matter?”
“The drink mix that I had consecrated is fruit punch flavored. I can’t put it in the lemonade. People will know.”
“Dear gods, Riley, they’ll just think it’s strawberry lemonade.”
I suddenly blew out a breath of frustration. As I casually lifted a small baggie of fruit punch mix and dumped it into the lemonade pitcher, I grabbed the handle and swished it around a few tis so that it would mix in.
“It’s a murky grey,” I said. “Barely even pink.”
“Everything in this room is tinged red because of the throne room,” Dina said. “Nobody is going to notice.”
I shook my head. “Who picks lemonade as their last drink before ending the wor—” I stopped what I was saying under my breath as a cultist walked by. I nodded and said, “I can’t believe it’s almost ti.”
He smiled at and nodded. “We’re almost there, brother. The new world awaits us.” He continued on.
“That was close,” I said. “This had better work.”
We both left at different tis and circulated through the room. I made my way around, mostly nodding and laughing as people rejoiced about our victory.
I was suddenly very grateful that I had initiated the ti skip, because there was no way I was going to be able to infiltrate a cult in person, not for any length of ti. These people seed nice; in fact, they seed a little too nice for a cult, but it was the small talk and the constant friendliness that would have worn on .
Would I have had to do that, too?
Luckily, I had a high Moxie, so I could just fake it. I’d probably lose so points in the end, but since my character was undercover too, it was okay if I didn’t act perfectly. He was the bad actor, not .
As I walked around, I realized that the large wall, which had been covered in pictures and newspaper clippings ant to signify the sickness of this world and the hope for the next, had been disassembled. All of its photographs and various iconography had been moved. We had skipped forward in ti. The ritual was coming in fast.
My money said that it was now in the throne room. In all the notes that my character had left during the ti skip, they referred to that room as the dark room. But there might have been flexible terminology. After all, none of that got said On-Screen. Now the dark room or throne room, whatever, was emitting a deep red glow.
With my lemonade trap set, I thought I’d mosey on over and see what all the fuss was about. There didn’t appear to be anyone watching . It was a very high-trust secret society. People were walking back to the red-tinged throne room freely. I grabbed my red plastic cup that I pretended to drink from and made my way down the long hallway.
Like everything else, the hallway had been dug out of the ground, and yet it appeared like sothing that had been unearthed, a path that had always been there. It had an ancient quality, like exploring a pyramid.
The further I went, the redder things beca. I wasn’t sure Carousel thought this through. The entire final fight being drenched in red light might be grating to the audience, not to ntion how it would hide the blood, but that was its decision.
While most of the carving of the stone was purely pragmatic, the entryway into the throne room was intricate and beautifully done, as if the associates at Eternal Savers Club had spent hours and hours making it beautiful back when the door was closed, perhaps listening to the voices they heard on the other side.
As I turned into the room, the breath emptied from my lungs against my will. I felt like I was on a roller coaster that had just dropped over a hill.
Before was paradise, the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, the thing my heart ached for without even knowing it.
To describe it with words, it was a giant red window, maybe so type of ruby or colored glass. I wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter, because whatever it was, it was nothing but a barrier. I knew that in my heart, and on the other side of it was happiness.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Suddenly, I understood why these folks were willing to work retail just to be close to this thing.
Happiness.
That was the thought going through my head. Happiness lies that way. I tried my best to adjust my eyes so I could see what it was that my gut was telling was so wonderful, so that I could hear it over the ringing in my ears from the pure ecstasy of being so close to the next world.
Because that was what it felt like. It felt like this was a gateway.
I stumbled forward, barely even noticing my surroundings.
“Riley, please help . Riley, please,” soone yelled to from off to the side. They were tied by ropes to a large tal plate. It actually did look like a dinner plate. Stacks of groceries surrounded them. Offerings. I doubted the cult paid for those.
It didn’t matter to .
A voice that I heard in my chest, not in my ears, called out to .
And what it said, it didn’t say in words, but if it had used words, they would have been, “You are not who you are supposed to be.”
As my eyes finally understood what they were seeing reflected in the red glass, I saw a house in the suburbs. I knew that house because I had grown up in it, or at least tried to.
At the front of that house was a door, and if I could just walk through it, I could be happy. No, better than that, I could be soone who had never known sadness. It was right there, seemingly twenty feet from . I just had to walk through the red glass and get there. That’s all I had to do. If I could break it with a hamr, I would have done it.
That life, that person, was right there.
“Riley, co on, man. They’re gonna murder . Don’t you understand that? Don’t you understand what they’re trying to do here? It’s murder no matter what happens afterward,” the person tied to the large tal dish said.
I shook my head and ignored them.
I walked forward and touched the red glass. I couldn’t feel it. There was no sensation at all. I couldn’t press through it, but I also couldn’t feel pressure on my skin as I attempted to. I didn’t feel barricaded or blocked off anymore. I just felt like that house and that door were forever twenty feet away.
And that voice that wasn’t a voice spoke in my chest and gave the knowledge that I didn’t have to be all of the things I hated about myself. It could be like I never existed.
Was that what I wanted?
I wasn’t deranged, and while my infected status was flashing ever so slightly, I was aware of what was happening. I wasn’t losing control, but I was considering it.
I wanted so much for it to be real.
I started to laugh. I must have looked like a crazy person, but I kept doing it.
Just the feeling that happiness might be so nearby was so funny to that I didn’t have the ability to control myself.
The voice in my chest was getting cocky. They told I could have anything I wanted. It sang those words through my soul.
So that was it? That was the aura that led so many to fill their carts in the store up above. The feeling that they could have anything they wanted, that it was right there just out of reach. They just had to grab for it.
I laughed again, but that ti I laughed at the absurdity of it all.
“Don’t you want to co here?” the voice called out to . “Don’t you want your parents back?”
I ignored it.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a Doctor Antoine Stone Power Protein Bar and ripped it open. I grabbed a piece of it and crumbled it into my fingers, and quickly threw it into my mouth.
“Heaven King Gaugh,” I said under my breath. “Please free of this Vocira.”
It was a simple exorcism ritual from back in the day when they thought that this imprisoned god was actually a type of deceiving spirit. My character had found it while researching this deity.
The protein bar had been offered to another god. The two gods couldn’t both claim power over . I felt the crumbled bits of granola get warm in my mouth, and as I swallowed it, that warmth traveled through my entire body.
The voice left . The knowledge that happiness was twenty feet away disappeared with it.
That sucked because I liked that part.
As I looked up at the red wall in front of , all that remained was an acrid vermillion-colored glass. The next world wasn’t on the other side. That image faded quickly.
What was on the other side scared the ever-loving crap out of once I realized what I was looking at.
I was looking at a god, but not on a throne.
It was lying on its back with its arms up over its face in a defensive posture, and it was stuck that way as if the colored glass it was trapped in had encased it right in the middle of a fight. It was fighting so sort of creature with a beak, but I couldn’t make out much.
I couldn’t see more than that, as the figure was so massive that I could only make out its top half despite the wall being over twenty feet high. It was gargantuan, Godzilla-sized, truly a being that could use a mountain as a throne.
Or at least a being that could feud with a god who did.
Heaven King Gaugh was the modern variation of one of the gods that had locked this terrifying deity in his red coffin. It seed that wherever the Heaven King had gone, he wasn’t too far away to make sure that his old adversary stayed locked up.
Or Carousel was just faking it.
I stuffed the remainder of the protein bar back in my pocket.
I thought once again of the promise I had been made, the promise that I could have the life I wanted, and I wondered why, unlike so many others, I could resist. Was it because I was psychic or because of my Grit?
Actually, I thought it was because while others wanted their loved ones back and to have more kindness in the world, if my wish ca true, I wouldn’t exist at all. Not really. Not this version of .
To have perfect happiness, or at least that incarnation of it, would have ant death.
And while I wasn’t afraid to die, I had gotten awfully good at avoiding it.
“Riley, this is murder. Don’t you understand that? This is murder!” Antoine scread at from where he was tied up.
We were On-Screen that entire ti. Had I laughed in front of everyone?
I looked over at him and gave him the subtlest nod I could in a room that I just realized was full of other cultists.
I felt he gave the nod back, or maybe I was imagining it. He had to play his role, and I had to play mine just a little longer.
As I faded into the crowd and went Off-Screen, I stared up at the red glass and the giant contained within it.
Eternal Savers Club was abbreviated ESC. Could that be a coincidence, or was it more likely that this entire storyline was designed as a jumping-off point for Carousel’s Throughline?
Carousel’s Throughline was about escape, after all.
None of that was wasted on . But we were all sure not to wish for escape. Not just because of this storyline, but it was a constant consideration with everything we did, making sure that we didn’t talk about escaping, that we didn’t think about it, that we didn’t act on it.
Because once we did, we would be accepting Carousel’s throughline, and if the day ever ca that we decided to do that, which I expected would, this would be a good storyline to do it in.
A storyline where you could get whatever you wanted as long as you were willing to pay the price.
I looked over at the entry to the throne room, past the eyes of the many cultists who stared up at the red glass and saw their better world, not seeing the giant deity trapped behind it.
Tom was at the entryway. He stared over at the wall where the news articles and pictures had been moved to.
The final battle was monts away. Forty-five or more cultists were down there with , and each one of them would do their best to make sure I never left.
That didn’t bother so bad. After all, at least half of them had gotten thirsty.
User Comments
0 comments from readers