Tales of Carousel: The Guest House

Tales of Carousel: The Guest House

It was time. Brent’s time to shine.

For thirty seconds, he was going to step in and be the hero.

It wouldn’t look like it.

His new trope set him up to save the day in the most gruesome way. It was a self-sacrifice trope, one of the most powerful kinds of tropes in the game.

Curiosity Killed the Neighbor-- A Wallflower trope designed to attract all attention from the enemy and the camera and give his allies the perfect chance to escape, regroup, or go on the offensive.

All he had to do was walk out of his comfortable hideout, ask, “What the hell is all this ruckus?” and then those little goblin creatures would leave Adeline alone and come attack him. They would kill him instantly, usually in a painful way.

He wouldn’t even be a named character in this storyline. His allies would get a boost in Hustle. They would be set up for an easy win. He would be in ribbons. Dead.

Adeline stood in the street at the end of the cul-de-sac attempting to kick the little demons off her.

Now was the time.

Just one quick act of bravery and she would be safe. Brent would be dead.

But why should he?

Adeline hadn’t died once. Not a single time. She was a Final Girl in every way. Wasn’t it her turn? Why should he have to die again?

He didn’t want to. He stood behind a bush near the street. He could help her so easily. His death would be quick. They’d yank his head off or cut him in half, something sudden and terrifying for the audience. He knew the drill.

He just couldn’t do it.

They didn’t need her alive to win anyway. He watched through the bush as she was attacked. He was sorry. Kind of.

He backed away. He wasn’t going to die this time. He refused.

~-~

“Hey, Silas,” Miles, the team’s Comedian, said as he pressed down the button to obtain his rewards. “I’d like a tall brunette who will laugh at my jokes and hold me in her arms all night long.”

Silas the Mechanical Showman waved his flashlight and out of his dispenser shot a series of tickets, as well as a few coins.

“Sorry, I don’t take requests,” Silas said in his showman voice. “You’re thinking of my cousin, the jukebox.”

Miles threw back his head and gave a throaty laugh.

Then, he turned toward his teammates and said, “Hey, guys, did you hear what Silas just said? Silas just said his cousin’s a—”

He stopped short as he realized that his team was preoccupied by a rather loud discussion between William and Brent.

William was a blue-blooded college man with well-defined musculature who held himself like a young senator.

“I knew you’ve been holding out on us,” William said firmly. “Now, I can prove it. You could have saved Adeline. Everything was set up just like Arthur and I planned, but you didn’t go through with it.”

“Bullshit,” Brent said. He stood defiantly against the larger man and refused to give an inch. “I can’t be everywhere every minute of the day. I didn’t know she was in danger.”

“You said something similar last time,” William said trying and failing to keep an even temper. “But last time, I didn’t have my War Games trope. This time, I saw you right next to Adeline. You could have saved her from those things. Not like we needed the trope to know that you have been avoiding your job. You think we haven’t noticed how you’re lagging behind in levels. It’s because you’re not doing anything in storylines, and Carousel knows it.”

Arthur held his arm out, “William, this is pointless. He knows what he’s doing. We’re not going to get him to stop by yelling at him. Let’s just go back to base and tell Curtis.”

In the background, Adeline silently wept.

Brent stammered something indecipherable and then said. “This is so fucking stupid. Why does she automatically get to live? I’ve died plenty. Why should I have to sacrifice myself? You ask me, it was good for her. Finally getting the raw side of the deal.”

William’s eyes grew wide. “It’s your job! We were relying on you! Arthur makes the plans because he’s the Scholar. Adeline plays her role as Final Girl. Miles dicks around because he’s the Comedian. Jenny is our Eye Candy. And I make sure everything runs smoothly because I’m the Soldier.”

“Soldier?” Brent said. “You were in the ROTC. You ran around campus playing dress-up. You are not a soldier.”

“When I found her,” William said, trying to hold back his rage. “She was eaten to hell. I’m sorry, Adeline, I have to tell him. They took her face. Her teeth. Her fingers, eyes. They did everything but kill her because they couldn’t kill her. Do you know why?”

Brent didn’t answer. He grew enraged with every word William said.

“Because she is the Last One Alive,” William continued. “She can’t die until the rest of us do. If you had used your sacrifice trope, your death would have been almost instant. You were an extra. Hers took hours, you son of a bitch. That’s my sister you did this to. I’m never doing a run with you again.”

William walked by Brent toward Silas the Showman.

“So, it’s true?” Arthur asked Brent. “You’ve just been, what, goofing off this whole time? Did you get yourself written off last year at the parade? Is that why you were nowhere to be found when we needed you? I knew it.”

Brent didn’t answer.

Arthur took that as a yes and followed behind William. Jenny gently guided Adeline over toward Silas.

“I shouldn’t have to die. It’s not fair,” Brent said so quietly that no one could hear him.

Once they had all gotten their tickets and were heading back to base, Brent ran up to Silas, slapped his button, and waited for Silas to dispense his rewards.

It was true. Brent had been leveling much slower than the rest of his team. It wasn’t that he didn’t care or didn’t want to help. He just couldn’t bring himself to die on purpose. He had died enough since arriving. Now that he had collected some Wallflower tropes that could keep him alive, he intended to stay that way.

“Those guys are assholes,” he said to Silas. “Fuck ‘em.”

Silas took a little longer than usual to give up Brent’s winnings. Brent didn’t get much. He never did. Almost no money. No stat tickets. It had been a month or more since he got one of those.

He did get one thing, though. Something he had never dreamed of acquiring.

“Writ of Habitation?” he read aloud as he looked down at the folded piece of paper Silas had given him. “Nobody’s gotten one of these in ages!”

The City of Carousel

Writ of Habitation

By the decrees of the City of Carousel and under the authority of the Office of the Mayor, this document certifies that:

Bearer: Brent Henderson

Henceforth has the right and authority to claim as a Base of Operations, the dwelling, structure, or property described as follows:

The property known as the "Guest House" located at 616 Nowlinger Rd., is a detached single-story residential dwelling constructed primarily of reinforced concrete and steel bars, encompassing an approximate total square footage of 1,200 sq. ft. Situated approximately 100 feet to the northeast of the main residence, this structure boasts three main rooms, which include features such as a bedroom devoid of windows, a bathroom with a securely locked utility closet, a kitchen equipped with a solid steel door, and a living area fortified with shatter-proof windows.

Under the provisions of this Writ, the following conditions apply:

Protection from Omens: The property and its immediate vicinity are free from the activation of any Omen, ensuring the bearer's safety from unforeseen threats emanating from said Omens.Duration of Habitation: This Writ grants the bearer habitation rights for a period of 5 years.Guarantee of Livable Lodgings: The property is ensured to provide basic amenities including a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, a functional locking door, and weatherproofing sufficient for standard habitation, though not necessarily of premium quality.Provision of Sustenance: Drinkable water and sustenance will be provided, though quantity may vary and is not guaranteed to be of the highest standard.Guarantee of Safe Acquisition: Upon signing this writ, the bearer is assured protection and will remain unharmed in their good faith efforts to take actual possession of the designated property.Transferability: This Writ is non-transferable. Any attempt to sell, trade, share, or give away the rights to the claimed property will result in immediate nullification of this document and all protections herein.Maintenance of Sanctuary: The bearer is not responsible for the upkeep and maintenance of the property. Such repairs and upkeep will be administered by the City.Covenant of Quiet Enjoyment: The bearer will not be required to perform in any storyline while inhabiting the property.Respect of Boundaries: The protections offered by this Writ are bound to the described property only. Straying outside its confines forfeits the guarantees granted herein.Limitations: This Writ of Habitation is valid for one tenant only. If additional tenants are found on the property, this writ is null and void.Act of Gods Clause: The Office of the Mayor and the City of Carousel shall not be held liable for any damages or threats arising due to unforeseeable acts of nature or apocalyptic occurrences beyond the City's apparent control.Renewal and Extension: Upon expiry, the bearer has the first right to renew this Writ. Renewal terms and conditions will be dictated by the City of Carousel's then-current rules.

Sealed with the emblem of the Office of the Mayor.

Date of Issue: January 12, 2004

That place is a fortress, he thought as he read the description. And I won’t have to do any storylines while I’m there.

He didn’t get a chance to read the whole Writ because he had to catch up with his team. His former team, perhaps. If William wasn’t willing to do runs with him, he was likely on his own.

~-~

The Geist Estate was once the grandest property in all of Carousel proper. Bartholemew Geist had built the mansion that rested within its gates. His son Carlyle had built upon it and expanded it to its current size. His granddaughter Cherise had built the Sanitorium on the far side of the property to care for the mentally infirm as a charitable effort. It had once been beautiful.

By the time Brent had come to live there, it had all gone downhill. The Sanitorium had closed down after some bad press, or so the lore told. The mansion itself had half-burned to the ground. The west wing was ash. The main house was rotted, and the labyrinthine dungeons had been flooded by rain. The east wing, though. That was dry and habitable.This chapter made its debut appearance via N0v3lB1n.

They squeezed nearly a hundred people into it at times, the smallest wing. The population fluctuated as some players would go find their own Bases from time to time. They all came back eventually.

Or they died.

Brent bunked in a room with twenty-two other men. It had a working fireplace and bathroom. That was a plus.

Brent lay in his bunk listening as rumors of his cowardice spread around the estate. People didn’t go easy on cowards. Even the Hysterics would give him the cold shoulder, and being cowards was their whole thing.

He struggled to try to turn the handle. It wouldn’t budge.

“Hello?” he asked in shock.

“Down here, dear,” Mrs. Montresor said gently.

The doggy door opened a bit.

Brent was hesitant to take anything from them.

“Take it, son,” the Reverend said on the other side.

“Why is the door locked?” Brent demanded.

“This will explain everything,” the Reverend said.

He looked down as someone on the other side slipped a large book through the doggy door. It was red in color and ornately designed.

He caught a glimpse of the hand that was holding it. Something flashed on the red wallpaper.

A sudden realization dawned on him.

He moved to the window beside the door and opened the curtain.

Twelve people were standing outside including the Montresors.

They were all labeled “Adherent,” on the red wallpaper. Enemies. They had ten levels on him. They must have had a trope to hide their true nature until now.

“This isn’t possible,” he screamed. “There weren’t supposed to be any Omens.”

He was certain he hadn’t seen any Omens, let alone triggered them. Here he was, though, trapped.

He ran around the house. There were no exits. The windows, as advertised, were shatterproof. He had imagined it a perfect fortress. Unfortunately, the qualities that make a perfect fortress also make a perfect prison. Someone had come in the night and cleared out his food. The television was gone. How had he slept so hard he couldn’t hear it?

The cookies.

He ran back to the door.

“I’d really like to go now,” he screamed.

“We have to cleanse you, dear,” Mrs. Montresor said sweetly. “You’ll thank us later.”

“Shit,” he said aloud after pacing back and forth for some time. “Fuck!”

“That kind of language is not appropriate,” the Reverend said with a terrifying ferocity.

The stalemate lasted all day.

“If you want food,” Mrs. Montresor said, “You just have to show us your earnest desire for repentance. Read from the book. The Great Spirit will guide you.”

Brent bent down and picked up the red book. It was like a bible from a nightmare world. The passages were insane, unlike anything he had ever read before.

“Just let me go,” he begged.

But they didn’t. Not that night. Not any night after.

Days passed. Then weeks, months.

Brent sat by the door.

When he heard someone show up outside, he would recite from the book for his daily bread.

“Yea, in the shadow of night's deepest despair, when brimstone doth rain like molten tears and fires of judgment burn hotter than the very pits of Hell....” He paused. He wanted to protest, to yell angrily, but that would just make them punish him. “Let thy heart be rent asunder in repentance, that thy soul may find refuge in the righteous embrace of the Great Spirit. For in the unyielding grasp of yearning and sacrifice, redemption shall bloom like a lone, rose in the midst of an eternal, desolate grave."

The figure on the other side of the door didn’t speak for a moment.

Then, they asked, “Why did you pause?”

They didn’t wait for an answer. They walked away, taking his food with them.

Brent wept.

~-~

“What is that?” Miles asked.

William held the object up so that the others could examine it. “It’s Brent’s driver’s license. He must have left it on accident.”

“Whoa,” Jenny said. “That takes me back. What’s it been? Two years?”

“Nearly three,” William answered.

“Do you think he’s still out there?” Adeline asked. “I mean... he never got postered. Do you think he found a way out?”

The others didn’t seem very optimistic about that.

“Amelia and Curtis say that sometimes people just disappear,” Arthur said.

“What happens to them?” Adeline asked.

“How should I know?” Arthur asked. “Wherever he is, I’m sure he’s at peace.... Did you guys hear about the new Base?”

“Not yet,” William said. “I hear it’s pretty nice.”

“I grabbed the Writ from Curtis,” Arthus said, pulling the paper out of his pocket. “Check it out.”

The City of Carousel

Writ of Habitation

By the decrees of the City of Carousel and under the authority of the Office of the Mayor, this document certifies that:

Bearer: Amelia Trenton

Is granted the right and authority to claim the expansive estate known as:

Dyer's Lodge

Located within the premises of Camp Dyer

Eastern Shoreline of Dyer's Lake

Under the provisions of this Writ, the following conditions apply:

Extensive Boundaries: The bearer is granted dominion over Dyer's Lodge and the surrounding lands within Camp Dyer, extending to the entirety of the eastern shoreline of Dyer's Lake.Protection from Omens: Dyer's Lodge, Camp Dyer, and its immediate vicinity are safeguarded from the activation of any Omen by accident, ensuring the bearer's safety and those within their domain from unforeseen malevolence.Guarantee Against Encumbrances and Hostility: The described property shall remain free from lairs, nests, or havens of any adversarial entities. All hostile presences nearby will immediately vacate the vicinity and abstain from combative behavior.Amenity Assurance: Dyer's Lodge is equipped with essential amenities, suitable for habitation and guest reception. This includes drinkable water and basic sustenance, though the luxury level of these provisions may vary.Duration of Habitation: This Writ grants the bearer and their heirs habitation rights for an indefinite period, ensuring long-term security and ownership.Transferability: Ownership of Dyer's Lodge is automatically extendable to the chosen heirs of the bearer. This writ remains active and non-expiring until an event of the original bearer's choosing.Maintenance and Enhancement: While Dyer's Lodge is provided in a state ready for habitation, the bearer has the full right to further enhance, renovate, or expand the structure and surrounding areas as they see fit.Act of God Clause: The Office of the Mayor and the City of Carousel shall not be held liable for any damages or threats arising due to unforeseeable acts of nature or occurrences beyond the realm's control.Renewal and Extension: While the duration is indefinite, any future terms and conditions, if they arise, will be dictated by the City of Carousel's then-current rules, with the bearer given priority consideration.Violations: Breach of any conditions mentioned herein may result in discussions and negotiations rather than immediate revocation.

Sealed with the emblem of the Office of the Mayor.

Date of Issue: December 15, 2006

“You see that,” Arthur said. “Guarantee Against Encumbrances and Hostility. You know what that means?”

He didn’t wait for an answer.

“No howling ghouls,” he said. “No haunted paintings. No fiery ghosts waking us up in the night every winter.”

“Huh,” William said. “Didn’t even know you could get these things where they guaranteed there would be no enemy lairs on the property. Always thought you had to scout the place out yourself. Make sure you won’t get attacked.”

“Might do that anyway,” Arthur said. “Can you imagine trying to live in a place without checking for enemies first?”