The Game at Carousel: A Horror Movie LitRPG
Author: lost_rambler
Book Five, Chapter 104: A Rescue in Review
Kimberly kept the letter Anna had written us.
She stored it in her bag, the one she used her Luggage Tag on.
It was pressed inside a little book on home repair she had found at the bed and breakfast after we beat
.
We sat around the table and read it again, the memories flooding over us.
The feelings were still so raw.
It was finally time to finish Camden’s plan. We were going to rescue them.
I looked up the Girl Next Door Aspect for the Final Girl, like Anna had asked us to. I had read it a dozen times at least.
It was perfect for us. Final Girls, it seemed, were designed to set up their team’s rescue. That’s why they got to be the
.
I read the Aspect trope aloud:
That was the Final Girl’s gimmick—they could participate in their own rescue. Having her there to fill us in on everything that had happened would be a huge asset.
“We’re going to see Anna again almost instantly,” Antoine said. “And she won’t be locked in a cage or turned into a dumb NPC. We just might be able to pull this off.”
We just might.
We talked for a bit about general strategies, things we had to shop for, to prepare. We were going to use Isaac’s
for the old jailhouse. It was built in a way that was easy to defend, but against a time traveler, there were plenty of opportunities for Carousel to throw a curveball, but that wasn’t a flaw.
If we tried to plan away all conflict, Carousel might get angry.
We would have to adapt to whatever situation we came across. There was truly no telling what might happen.
We didn’t have a lot of information on
as a storyline—not from the Atlas, at least—but we did have one good source.
I had seen the trailer for the movie with my
trope that allowed me to see trailers for other storylines being played. I didn’t get a lot of use out of that one, seeing as there were no other players than us, but it had delivered on the day I received it. Surely, that was no coincidence.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Our friends in high places—our mysterious insider pulling the strings from who knows where—they had given us enough information to save Anna and Camden.
Why they helped us, I didn’t know. I didn’t even know who they were. But I wasn’t going to waste all the effort they had put in.
I wasn’t going to waste the sacrifices that had gone into making
happen.
“I have to show you something,” I said.
I led everyone over to the small television that had a trope allowing me to show them what I saw on the red wallpaper.
I had told them about the trailer, but I hadn’t shown them yet. There was no use traumatizing them until it was time.
I turned the television on, and everyone gathered around to watch. They didn’t take a seat; instead, they silently stood as the trailer played, both in my mind and on the screen.
Now everyone knew what I knew.
Everyone saw what I saw.
And they were quiet—because what could you say after watching something like that?
We always steered clear of the torture storylines, and yet here we were, ready to dive into one.
I had taken the energy out of the room. I felt bad about it, but there was no getting around it. We were about to do something that would be incredibly painful. It was normal to be scared.
“So, shopping tomorrow?” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
Kimberly, who had been very somber and had teared up at the sight of Camden with his injuries, nodded and said, “Yes. Early morning. Business and pleasure.”
That was all she managed to say.
Having completely killed the atmosphere in the room, I decided to climb to the roof, as I often did, to read the most evil book I had ever held in my hands.
I had been able to track some of Anna and Camden’s movements just by reading through it. I had seen them as they surveyed disaster after disaster.
I had read every word.
I laid back on one of the chairs underneath the light.
It was a starless night—a fitting backdrop for the thing we were preparing to do. I read back through everything, my notes absolutely filling the margins of the book.
As far as I could tell, most of the horrific events depicted were taken from storylines—usually mundane ones. While there were tragedies I felt could only have a supernatural explanation, the book itself took a completely non-magical approach.
That was ironic, given that we knew the bad guy used magic.
In this final reading, I saw certain elements of the book in a different light. As the others gradually trickled up to the roof to get some air and hang out, I decided it was time to talk more about what the woman had whispered to me in the theater.
I had told them everything, including her suggestion that we choose a Throughline, but I hadn’t focused on it. We had made no plans.
As I stared down at the book, I found a series of stars I had drawn into it, marking different tragedies, all involving one particular family: the Geists.
Why that family was so important, I didn’t know. I also found it amusing that their history, as presented in the book, was completely different from the one shown in Silas Dyrkon’s Throughline.
It was, however, exactly as Silas had described it: no matter what, members of the Geist family always met specific fates.
I meditated on this while staring at a picture of Lillian Geist—not the one transformed into a terrible monster by a mad scientist in the tutorial, but another version. This Lillian had survived an accident involving a boat propeller. Well,
of her had survived. I’ll just say I didn’t recognize her face in the picture.
In this cursed history, Carlyle Geist and his immediate family had been drowned at the family boat docks by his personal assistant gone mad.
In total, the Geist name was mentioned at least ten times in the book. Most of the family members, I didn’t recognize.
“What do you guys think about doing the Geist Throughline?” I asked. I didn’t exactly expect enthusiasm. I mostly got silence as my response.
Silas had created the Throughline, and after we narrowly avoided involuntary servitude to him, Carousel had taken it and reworked it so we could pursue it on our own—or at least, that was how Silas described it. That was also how it appeared on the Throughline Tracker.
The trip back into the far past, following the Geists one step at a time to unlock hidden mysteries, didn’t sound so bad—as long as Silas Dyrkon wasn’t in control.
There was always a town, and there was always a family.
The question was: could we do that Throughline while also pursuing others? It seemed the rules had changed on that matter, though I couldn’t swear to what they were to begin with. Was it that we could only serve one narrator?
We were just lowly players—why should we get to know the rules of the game?
If uncovering the answers hidden in the past might help us escape one day—or at least understand what was going on—was it worth it? If our goal was to entertain the audience, might the reveal of the true nature of the Geist family keep them watching a little longer?
The response to my question was not exactly enthusiastic. But given that the only Throughlines we had involved secret lore or running Carousel’s own, how many options were really in front of us?
We would always be working on secret lore, but it was clear we hadn’t yet figured out the right way to do it.
The only person immediately on board was Ramona. She didn’t go into detail, but we all knew why. Perhaps she felt that the version of her sister she knew was hidden somewhere in Silas’ former Throughline.
I wasn’t so sure.
Silas had developed an entire Sound Stage with a unique version of Carousel when he was in control. I wasn’t certain we’d ever go back there. I didn’t want to go back there. Somehow, Carousel was even stranger without its usual omens.
“Anyway, I’m just throwing the idea out there,” I said. “If we ever wanted to start the Geist Throughline, this storyline would be a good launching point. Anna and Camden seemed to figure out how time travel worked there. We could, too.”
I wasn’t going to spend time trying to convince them. I couldn't even convince myself.
Kimberly tried to make it seem like my idea wasn’t bad, but I could tell she didn’t like it. It was so difficult to make decisions about our future when we knew so little about what was going on.
I closed the book and listened to the conversations the others were having—friendly ones, the kind you could almost hear if you weren’t in Carousel.
They were talking about going shopping and how excited they were to see Anna and Camden again.
The truth was, we weren’t going to move forward until we understood our place in this strange, horrific world.
If only we could just get the truth, if only we could know who to trust, if only we had some way to talk to the insider or get a proper look behind the curtain.
If only.
She stored it in her bag, the one she used her Luggage Tag on.
It was pressed inside a little book on home repair she had found at the bed and breakfast after we beat
.
We sat around the table and read it again, the memories flooding over us.
The feelings were still so raw.
It was finally time to finish Camden’s plan. We were going to rescue them.
I looked up the Girl Next Door Aspect for the Final Girl, like Anna had asked us to. I had read it a dozen times at least.
It was perfect for us. Final Girls, it seemed, were designed to set up their team’s rescue. That’s why they got to be the
.
I read the Aspect trope aloud:
That was the Final Girl’s gimmick—they could participate in their own rescue. Having her there to fill us in on everything that had happened would be a huge asset.
“We’re going to see Anna again almost instantly,” Antoine said. “And she won’t be locked in a cage or turned into a dumb NPC. We just might be able to pull this off.”
We just might.
We talked for a bit about general strategies, things we had to shop for, to prepare. We were going to use Isaac’s
for the old jailhouse. It was built in a way that was easy to defend, but against a time traveler, there were plenty of opportunities for Carousel to throw a curveball, but that wasn’t a flaw.
If we tried to plan away all conflict, Carousel might get angry.
We would have to adapt to whatever situation we came across. There was truly no telling what might happen.
We didn’t have a lot of information on
as a storyline—not from the Atlas, at least—but we did have one good source.
I had seen the trailer for the movie with my
trope that allowed me to see trailers for other storylines being played. I didn’t get a lot of use out of that one, seeing as there were no other players than us, but it had delivered on the day I received it. Surely, that was no coincidence.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Our friends in high places—our mysterious insider pulling the strings from who knows where—they had given us enough information to save Anna and Camden.
Why they helped us, I didn’t know. I didn’t even know who they were. But I wasn’t going to waste all the effort they had put in.
I wasn’t going to waste the sacrifices that had gone into making
happen.
“I have to show you something,” I said.
I led everyone over to the small television that had a trope allowing me to show them what I saw on the red wallpaper.
I had told them about the trailer, but I hadn’t shown them yet. There was no use traumatizing them until it was time.
I turned the television on, and everyone gathered around to watch. They didn’t take a seat; instead, they silently stood as the trailer played, both in my mind and on the screen.
Now everyone knew what I knew.
Everyone saw what I saw.
And they were quiet—because what could you say after watching something like that?
We always steered clear of the torture storylines, and yet here we were, ready to dive into one.
I had taken the energy out of the room. I felt bad about it, but there was no getting around it. We were about to do something that would be incredibly painful. It was normal to be scared.
“So, shopping tomorrow?” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
Kimberly, who had been very somber and had teared up at the sight of Camden with his injuries, nodded and said, “Yes. Early morning. Business and pleasure.”
That was all she managed to say.
Having completely killed the atmosphere in the room, I decided to climb to the roof, as I often did, to read the most evil book I had ever held in my hands.
I had been able to track some of Anna and Camden’s movements just by reading through it. I had seen them as they surveyed disaster after disaster.
I had read every word.
I laid back on one of the chairs underneath the light.
It was a starless night—a fitting backdrop for the thing we were preparing to do. I read back through everything, my notes absolutely filling the margins of the book.
As far as I could tell, most of the horrific events depicted were taken from storylines—usually mundane ones. While there were tragedies I felt could only have a supernatural explanation, the book itself took a completely non-magical approach.
That was ironic, given that we knew the bad guy used magic.
In this final reading, I saw certain elements of the book in a different light. As the others gradually trickled up to the roof to get some air and hang out, I decided it was time to talk more about what the woman had whispered to me in the theater.
I had told them everything, including her suggestion that we choose a Throughline, but I hadn’t focused on it. We had made no plans.
As I stared down at the book, I found a series of stars I had drawn into it, marking different tragedies, all involving one particular family: the Geists.
Why that family was so important, I didn’t know. I also found it amusing that their history, as presented in the book, was completely different from the one shown in Silas Dyrkon’s Throughline.
It was, however, exactly as Silas had described it: no matter what, members of the Geist family always met specific fates.
I meditated on this while staring at a picture of Lillian Geist—not the one transformed into a terrible monster by a mad scientist in the tutorial, but another version. This Lillian had survived an accident involving a boat propeller. Well,
of her had survived. I’ll just say I didn’t recognize her face in the picture.
In this cursed history, Carlyle Geist and his immediate family had been drowned at the family boat docks by his personal assistant gone mad.
In total, the Geist name was mentioned at least ten times in the book. Most of the family members, I didn’t recognize.
“What do you guys think about doing the Geist Throughline?” I asked. I didn’t exactly expect enthusiasm. I mostly got silence as my response.
Silas had created the Throughline, and after we narrowly avoided involuntary servitude to him, Carousel had taken it and reworked it so we could pursue it on our own—or at least, that was how Silas described it. That was also how it appeared on the Throughline Tracker.
The trip back into the far past, following the Geists one step at a time to unlock hidden mysteries, didn’t sound so bad—as long as Silas Dyrkon wasn’t in control.
There was always a town, and there was always a family.
The question was: could we do that Throughline while also pursuing others? It seemed the rules had changed on that matter, though I couldn’t swear to what they were to begin with. Was it that we could only serve one narrator?
We were just lowly players—why should we get to know the rules of the game?
If uncovering the answers hidden in the past might help us escape one day—or at least understand what was going on—was it worth it? If our goal was to entertain the audience, might the reveal of the true nature of the Geist family keep them watching a little longer?
The response to my question was not exactly enthusiastic. But given that the only Throughlines we had involved secret lore or running Carousel’s own, how many options were really in front of us?
We would always be working on secret lore, but it was clear we hadn’t yet figured out the right way to do it.
The only person immediately on board was Ramona. She didn’t go into detail, but we all knew why. Perhaps she felt that the version of her sister she knew was hidden somewhere in Silas’ former Throughline.
I wasn’t so sure.
Silas had developed an entire Sound Stage with a unique version of Carousel when he was in control. I wasn’t certain we’d ever go back there. I didn’t want to go back there. Somehow, Carousel was even stranger without its usual omens.
“Anyway, I’m just throwing the idea out there,” I said. “If we ever wanted to start the Geist Throughline, this storyline would be a good launching point. Anna and Camden seemed to figure out how time travel worked there. We could, too.”
I wasn’t going to spend time trying to convince them. I couldn't even convince myself.
Kimberly tried to make it seem like my idea wasn’t bad, but I could tell she didn’t like it. It was so difficult to make decisions about our future when we knew so little about what was going on.
I closed the book and listened to the conversations the others were having—friendly ones, the kind you could almost hear if you weren’t in Carousel.
They were talking about going shopping and how excited they were to see Anna and Camden again.
The truth was, we weren’t going to move forward until we understood our place in this strange, horrific world.
If only we could just get the truth, if only we could know who to trust, if only we had some way to talk to the insider or get a proper look behind the curtain.
If only.