Chapter Forty-Three: Keeping Secrets
On the return to Camp Dyer, Carousel was like a new place. Janette’s I don’t like it here... trope was transformative. I could see Omens everywhere. No wonder she was freaked out all the time. I even saw things that Arthur didn’t mention as he guided us back.
When I looked at something that was an omen, I would see a brass display sign on the red wallpaper with the word “Warning.”
Sometimes, I would get a whole lot more information than that. I occasionally got entire posters, with storyline titles, vague suggestions of difficulty level, specific actions needed to trigger the omen, everything. The determining factor appeared to be my Savvy. Low-level storylines I knew everything about. For high-level storylines, I only got the “Warning.”
There was a storyline called “The Look Back” that could be triggered by walking through an alleyway and... looking behind you. The poster just showed a man carrying groceries with a look of horror on his face. Its difficulty level was “Get to the car now!”
Whatever that meant.
I saw another storyline called “Just Deserts” that took place at a sweets shop called “Just Desserts.” It was triggered by ordering something and not appreciating it (I’m not sure what that meant exactly). Its difficulty level was “I’m fairly alarmed.”
Very informative.
Most storylines gave much less information than that, but it was amazing to see beyond the veil if only a little. If I was in a better state of mind, I might have enjoyed looking around at all the stuff. That may just be me though.
As we moved past town toward Camp Dyer, I got less and less information. Things really did get tougher out this way.
Once we got back to camp, the tension in the air choked any conversation that could start. No one was looking forward to telling people what had happened to Janette. Arthur had assured us that he would be the one to tell everyone. Apparently, that had been something that he and Adeline had done many times over the years.
As we approached the lodge, we were greeted by a sea of curious players. What had happened that day was everyone's business. I didn't see Bobby among them. I really didn't want to.
Adeline greeted us on the trail before we got to the lodge. We stopped to talk to her.
“Janette?” She asked.
Arthur shook his head. “Disappeared.”
Adeline nodded. I could tell from her face that she did have an understanding of what that meant. They had told me that she didn't actually know about the axe murderer and yet I got the sense that she knew enough. As far as I knew Arthur and Adeline had been in Carousel for nearly 20 years.
How had Arthur kept the secret from someone he had known for so long?
Did he even have a choice?
As we approached the lodge Adeline was quick to gently get the word out to those outside about what had happened to Jeanette. Her “disappearance” was taken very well. The reaction was somber, but none of the veteran players seemed to be surprised.
My friends, however, looked horrified. I couldn't blame them. They didn't have the understanding yet.
This was clearly a big event. Even Dina, who only socialized to go out on storylines every once in a while, had stuck around awaiting our return. As soon as we got back her eyes zoned in on me. It looked like she was reading about me on the red wallpaper.
It was only when we got inside and everyone had gathered around to hear a rundown of what had happened, that Bobby Gill, husband of the deceased, made his presence known.
“Where is Janette?” he asked. He had been worried. You could tell he was a bundle of stress. He was standing with Travis and Co., ironically the exact people Janette had not wanted him to be around.
“Look, Bobby, maybe we should go outside,” Arthur said.
Travis shook his head, having apparently already figured out the bad news. “I knew it.”
“Knew what?” Bobby asked. “Where’s Janette?”
Adaline intervened, “Let’s go outside, Bobby.”
“Why? What happened to Janette?” he asked. “Tell me what happened to Janette!”
“She disappeared,” Arthur said.
Whispers echoed throughout the crowd from those who had not already heard. I couldn’t tell what they were saying, but I know they didn’t sound surprised either.Witness the debut of this chapter, unveiled through Ñôv€l--B1n.
“Disappeared?” Bobby asked. “Where? How?”
“On the storyline we went on,” Arthur answered. “She didn’t show up at The End.”
Bobby didn’t get it. “I was telling them; she wouldn’t have gone on a storyline. She has anxiety. Why would she be on a storyline?”
He must have been told she went out on a storyline. He was still deep in denial over it.
“Just take a seat,” Adaline said. “Come here.”
She gestured for him to sit on one of the couches. When he didn’t move, she gently placed a hand on his back, guiding him in that direction.
“No!” he said. He pulled away from her. “Why was she on a storyline? We need to go find her.”
I could only imagine what was going through his mind at that moment. When you hear the word disappeared you don't think “dead.” You think that there's some hope out there. That was the flaw in using that term as a euphemism for death.
And yet, it appeared that everyone else did understand. They knew what"disappeared" meant. They probably even knew why she was gone, more or less. They just didn't know about the Rulekeeper.
“People go missing sometimes,” Adeline said. “They disappear without a trace. I'm so sorry.”
“No,” Bobby said. “She would never have gone on a storyline. We talked about it; she was going to wait until I could go with her.”
Adeline explained everything that had happened. She talked about how the box had been delivered specifically for Jeanette and that there was no way we could have avoided sending her on that storyline.
Why had I been given Janette's old trope?
I thought about what Silas had said when he gave it to me. “It’s a shame to waste a good plan. Luckily, in Carousel, we recycle.”
Was that just Silas saying some canned joke or did it mean something... more?
As I thought about this, there was a knock at the door. I really didn’t want to answer, but if it was Camden, I couldn’t keep him out of his own room.
When I opened it, I was greeted by my friends. What was I going to say to them?
“Riley,” Anna said. “We didn’t get a chance to talk. Do you mind if we come in?”
I wasn’t sure if I was in a headspace to talk, but I waved them into the little closet Camden and I called home.
I didn’t know what to say, so I just let them speak.
“I heard you took out some monsters with huge Plot Armor,” Antoine said. “That’s pretty cool.”
We didn’t know each other very well, so he gave me a dude compliment.
“Yeah,” I said. Most of them technically had no Grit when I did, but it didn’t matter. He was just trying to be supportive.
“Are you okay?” Anna asked. “It must have been terrifying.”
I nodded. “At parts.”
“You know you can talk to us about stuff,” she said.
“Nothing to talk about.”
There was an awkward silence for a beat.
“You get any good loot?” Camden asked. He hadn’t spoken much since having died himself. But I guess it was his turn to hold the support baton.
I hadn’t thought much about the awards I had gotten. A spark of excitement ignited in my mind because that was something I could talk about. It was something I could distract myself with.
I reached into my pocket. It was strange. Even though I had a big stack of tickets now, I hadn’t noticed how inconvenient it was to carry them around until I went to grab them. It was almost like they weren’t even there until you reached for them. Strange.
Whatever the case, I took out the tickets and started to show them around. Most of them were useless to me. I showed Anna the Final Girl trope I had gotten, Stick to the Plan, and promised to give it to her. I explained how useful it could be. She conveyed interest, but I think her mind was on something else.
I showed them the monster ticket with a high-level Grotesque on it. I told them about the pawn shop Arthur had spoken about. I theorized we might be able to trade the monster tickets there.
Camden was amazed at how many tropes I had gotten, not to mention the stat tickets, which would put my Plot Armor well above his once I used them.
I read off the array of useless tropes I had gotten: A Glitch in the Matrix, Accidentally Captured on Film, Friends in High Places, A Story within a Story, and Watching over You, were among those that got the most attention. We spitballed at how they might be used for strategy.
Then I told them about On-Screen, Off-Screen manipulation, and how we had been able to keep Roxie alive long enough for a 13% debuff on all the creatures.
Of course, geeking out could only last so long.
“Was Janette... gone already when that happened?” Antoine asked. “We’re just curious.”
Kimberly and Anna gave him scolding look.
I couldn’t blame him. No matter what I said, the question that they would most want to be answered was what had happened to Janette. In my explanation of our exploits in the storyline, I had left her out altogether. She had been gone by the time most of the interesting stuff started.
I nodded quickly. I held my breath wondering if that simple answer would summon the phantom presence of the Rulekeeper. Luckily, I heard nothing.
I took out the “I don’t like it here...” ticket and showed it to them. “No blood, see.”
“We didn’t think you had anything to do with it,” Anna said.
“Do you... Do you know what happened to her?” Camden asked.
After having died nothing felt real. I felt like I was sleepwalking. Nothing felt important or urgent, not even the dire circumstances of my captivity here in Carousel. But as soon as I contemplated telling my friends about the axe murderer, suddenly everything felt real.
My heart was beating faster than it had been fighting the Grotesques.
I could hear him as if he was right behind me. I could hear his feet shifting on the ground, his breath in my ear.
Still, these were my friends, and keeping him a secret felt wrong. It felt like they deserved to know. I'd learned that day that everyone basically knew what happened to the people who "disappeared" but nobody knew the specifics. They also knew why It happened. No one had to be told why Janette had been singled out. Even then, telling them that there's an actual entity enforcing the rules around here felt important.
And yet I was afraid.
I was afraid that I would be endangering them by telling them. I was afraid that I was endangering myself.
“She just... disappeared,” I said, much to my shame.
And as I scanned their faces—Anna, who was so trusting; Camden, whom I had shared my secrets with as a child; Kimberly, a sweet and honest soul; and Antoine, who might have had the strength to be honest if he were in my shoes...
I could tell that they knew I was hiding something.
I was alone again.