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The Game at Carousel: A Horror Movie LitRPG-Chapter 119Book Five, : Hey ya, Fella
🔴 REC SEP 25, 2018 06:24:07 [▮▮▮▮▮ 100%]
Suddenly, we didn't feel safe in the museum.
"What the heck was that?" Logan asked as we found ourselves settling into the back booth at the Diner. "And why the hell are we in this fishbowl?"
I panned the camera around so that they could see all the windows in the diner. If there was someone looking for us, they would see us here.
"Clearly, he doesn't have trouble finding us," Kimberly said. "So we need to be somewhere where we can see him coming. Maybe—I don’t know." She turned her attention away from Logan. "Anna," she said, "did he do anything like that before?"
Anna sat in the booth, eyes wide open, confused.
"I don't know," she said. "I don't remember anything like that. But I told you that he can always find you. Once he knew that you existed, he was always going to be able to find you."
"You said that if we hid in the past, we could stay safe," Logan said. "Did we just cause all those deaths for nothing?"
"I didn't know that would happen!" Anna said. "We need to find Camden. Maybe he knows something about this."
"The list of things that we hope Camden knows grows ever longer," Logan said.
Logan was really good at the internal conflict part. He could act simultaneously worried and a bit antagonistic, but then he could turn on charm to almost make himself seem more human because of his worry. I wondered if he would show Ramona the ropes because that was something that Hysterics also did—especially Defiant Hysterics.
"We just need to get to a place where we don't have to worry about that man—or whatever he is," Logan said.
"Look," Anna said. "Camden is in walking distance right now. The only problem is that I'm there too, and I don't know what happens if we show up before I leave."
They continued talking, and I decided to pan the camera around the diner, showing the individual NPCs. As a reaction to our decision to go there, the NPCs had been changed out.
One in particular that I noticed was a cop sitting at the bar area, just out of hearing range of where we were. But the thing that made him peculiar was that he had his police radio. I could hear reports coming in over it, and he was listening to them while drinking his coffee. He wasn't that important of a character—his title was Police Officer, without even a last name.
I assumed Carousel was trying to tell us something. After zooming in on his radio, I turned the camera back to the others and said, "Did you guys notice that the guy had a radio?"
"Generation Killer?" Kimberly asked.
"Can we stop calling him that?" Logan asked.
"Yes. Grant Leitner," I answered. "The boogeyman. The guy that travels through your memories or the past or something like that. He had a radio—an old-fashioned one with a long silver antenna. Did you guys see it?"
"Yeah," Kimberly said.
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I heard a bark from outside and turned the camera around to zoom in on Bobby, who was outside with the dogs.
Nothing else happened, but everyone at the table held their breath.
Turning the camera back to them, I said, "I think that's it. I think that radio is a way for him to communicate with his other selves."
Was that the hint that Carousel was giving us by putting the police officer there?
We knew that he had a trope called Always Watching, and having one of his alternate selves somehow stuck outside of time with a radio was one way for that trope to be used.
He could spy on us anytime now that he had our scent, so to speak.
The paper that I threw had passed right through him, which should mean that we were not going to be able to kill him. But the other versions of him seemed flesh and blood enough from Anna's descriptions. ŗ𝐀₦ȱ𝐛ËS
Whether or not we could kill them was a different question.
Behind me, the policeman's radio started to go off.
"All units be advised, we have multiple disturbances. Stand by for details," a woman's voice said over the radio.
The police officer stood up and said something into his radio—I couldn't quite catch it because the radio was still going off.
"Multiple fires reported throughout Carousel. Robberies reported at Fourth and Glibly, and at Milk and Dour. Someone’s run a car through the entrance of the mall. Stand by," the voice said over the radio, clearly flustered.
The cop quickly walked out the door, yelling behind him, "I'll pay when I get back! I have to go!"
The waitress, who was also the owner, waved him off. She looked very concerned and lifted a small TV out from under the counter, flipping it on.
As soon as she did, it went right to the news, but I couldn't get a good angle on it. All I could see was the orange glow of fire being filmed from a helicopter.
There was a loud bang on the glass as Bobby tried to get our attention.
Outside, it wasn't quite light yet. There was still a rind of darkness in the sky. And yet, as we all ran outside, I panned the camera to see the skyline. The clouds above reflected that same orange that the TV had shown.
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"What the heck is happening?" Bobby asked.
It was hectic. I could hear sirens all around—police, fire, and ambulance services in all directions.
"Is this about us?" Kimberly asked.
What an absurd question to ask in real life. But in this situation, it was the only logical answer.
"He's committing crimes all over the place?" Logan asked. "To what end?"
I made sure to get a shot of everyone as we stared at the glowing fires in the distance, their black smoke trails snaking up into the sky from at least half a dozen locations.
"Why would he do this?" Antoine asked. "What's his game?"
I knew this one.
"It’s like Die Hard with a Vengeance. He's committing crimes all over town. Why would someone want to do that?" I said. "Unless you needed the police distracted."
"If you don't want to have to deal with the police, you act sneaky," Logan said. "You don't start fires all over town."
We were racing across the parking lot in the direction of Dyer's Lake.
"You do if the place you're trying to do crime at is the police station," I said.
I got a good shot of Logan realizing what I had figured out already.
■ STOP
🔴 REC SEP 25, 2018 07:15:14 [▮▮▮▮▯ 80%]
We found a cabin that had been part of a motel at some point in time—one that was now clearly abandoned.
Antoine had kept my television inside his duffel bag, using his luggage tag, which could now carry more thanks to receiving new tags after the werewolf storyline.
We pretended like we had found it at the cabin. We had to plug it in with an extension cord, which we had also brought, running it to an outlet that had been part of the camping area—now overgrown and unused.
I turned on the TV, and just like the one at the diner, this one immediately turned to the news. It was a classic trope, and we didn't even have to bring it into the story.
"Good morning," the news anchor said. "We begin with a stunning attack overnight at the Carousel Police Department. A group of men used a stolen bulldozer to smash through the front of the downtown station, overpowering officers and kidnapping a man from lockup.
"Police say the man wasn’t suspected of any crime but was being held for a mental health evaluation. The attackers moved quickly, escaping before backup could arrive.
"Authorities believe the attack was carefully timed—officers were stretched thin responding to multiple emergencies across the city. This morning, police are searching for the suspects and the man they took. Anyone with information is urged to come forward. More updates as they come in."
I continued filming as the news station cut to footage from overhead: a group of men wearing overcoats and fedoras dragging a man in a business suit out of the police station and into an abandoned warehouse nearby.
"That's the guy who bumped into us," Kimberly said. "The guy that we accidentally dragged back here."
"He must have gone to the police and told them that he got dragged back in time," Bobby said. "No wonder he was up for a mental evaluation."
Kimberly turned to Anna. "We have to go get Camden. Now."
"But I thought we had to wait until I left," Anna said. "And that's not until tomorrow."
"We don't have time to wait," Kimberly said. "Consequences be damned. If Generation Killer is already here, that means you may have already left. If they came for you already, you'd be gone."
"But I don't remember any of that," Anna said.
"It's all we have to go on. We have to go get your friend," Kimberly said. "It's now or never."
We were in a dilemma. We still had miles to go to get to Camp Dyer, where Anna and Camden were supposed to be, and Generation Killer was liable to show up anywhere along our route.
Unless...
Unless someone drew their attention.
Someone who had less Plot Armor than everyone else.
Kimberly looked me in the eye—because she knew that was the plan.
I nodded. I hoped I could escape these guys long enough to make it to Second Blood, but who could know? The real trick was making it look natural.
There was a knock at the door, and Bobby's dogs started barking at whatever was outside.
Did I dare open the door just for the fun of it?
Of course not. But that would totally happen in a horror movie.
Instead, we struggled to get one of the back windows open. It had been sealed shut with paint.
The knocking got louder.
I tried to sneak a look out the front window of the cabin, only to see three separate Grant Leitners standing outside—blank-faced.
In a true jump scare, one of the men stepped right in front of the window I was looking out of, as if he'd been waiting next to it.
"Hey ya, fella," he said in a friendly manner—but his smile did not reach his eyes.
I rushed back to the other side of the room, where Antoine had managed to get the window open, and people were starting to get out.
As cameraman, it was my job to go last.
Antoine was out. Anna was next. Then Kimberly. Then Logan. Then Bobby got out, and they carefully lifted his dogs out and over to the outside.
Then it was my turn. I went to leave, but just as I was about to get through the window—
Generation Killer arrived.
Right next to it.
With that same soulless-eyed expression, he said:
"Hey ya, fella. I was hoping to talk to you."
■ STOP
I didn't have a lot of options. My Oblivious Bystander strategy was out the window, and I had no guarantee that I had higher Hustle than this Generation Killer—or any of the others.
What I could do was talk to him Off-Screen because of the Method to The Madness. It wasn’t a foolproof plan, but it felt like it could act as a distraction.
So, I turned the camera off after shaking it—making it look like there was a struggle.
I stood in the back part of the cabin.
He was knocking at the front door.
He was standing at the back door.
He was all over.
"What are you doing this for?" I asked.
"I just want to go home," he said. "And if that is ever going to happen, I can’t have you all running around making noise."
Said the guy who just committed crimes all over town.
"You’re a time traveler," I said. "What could possibly stop you from going home?"
He started to laugh—as if what I had said struck an ancient nerve, one that had been holding back a metric ton of frustration.
He was standing right outside the window, but I decided to take the opportunity.
I noticed that he was wearing an amulet. This one was smaller than the one Anna carried.
While he was distracted, I grabbed at it—simultaneously pushing him back.
Then, I was out the window and running as fast as I could.
🔴 REC SEP 25, 2018 07:19:41 [▮▮▮▮▯ 80%]
As I ran, I put my hand up in front of the camera to show that I had just grabbed an amulet—ripped it right off the neck of the guy. I turned the camera to show him regaining his footing next to the window. That would have to do.
The others were gone.
It was just me and my bright ideas.
I ran in the direction of Camp Dyer—pure west.
As I passed by another cabin, who stepped out from behind it but Generation Killer?
"Hey ya, fella," he said. He was holding a radio like the one the killer we had seen in our memories had. "We need to talk. I don’t mean you no harm, honest."
He was clearly lying. His smile told me that.
I knew it. Even if I didn’t have higher Moxie than him, I would have known it. But because of his Unsettling Manner trope, as soon as I detected his lie, I felt the chill down my spine—a part of the building tension that would eventually lead to incapacitation if I wasn’t careful.
He was a weird guy.
And not in some explicit way, like having blood on his clothes or whatever other obvious signs of being off that movies used.
He was strange just from the way he looked at me. He enjoyed how his off demeanor affected others.
I gave him a wide berth.
He didn’t really chase me. He jogged toward me for a bit, but then he stopped—didn’t continue running after me.
As I continued down the path, I came across a bridge.
And as I crossed it—
A man who had been underneath the bridge walked up the embankment after me, saying, "Hey ya, fella—"
I didn’t stick around to hear whatever he was going to say.
I just ran.
■ STOP