Chapter 7 (Madhouse Funhouse) FunTime Amusement ParkChapter 7 (Madhouse Funhouse) by Geli-K
June 12, 2014
I must say, I am rather glad that I have kept my strength up; otherwise I would not be able to drag around these unconscious people and other things.
The Funhouse is starting to take the shape I want it to. I have disfigured the front entrance in a way that is delightfully horrifying. I loathe that ugly clown… it was enjoyable to dig a knife into it and splash red paint across the cardboard smile.
Aside from that, I have spent a very happy hour or so playing with my victims. They are beaten, bruised and cut more deeply by my sharp words than by the knives and mallets and ropes and chains I have used on them. Allie refuses to scream or cry, though. She keeps staring at me with dark eyes and a twisted mouth. Her twin brother was
Chapter 6 (Madhouse Funhouse) Main StreetChapter 6 (Madhouse Funhouse) by Geli-K
June 12, 2014
Ugh. I’ve just spent a good chunk of time at the library—exams coming up, you know? I’m not looking forward to them. Exams are awful.
I’m so tired. I want to go home. I want to go home, eat pizza, watch TV and sink into a hot bubble-bath all at once. That would be the best end to today.
But one of the wheels on my skates is coming loose, so I have to get it fixed. I wish I could do it later, but I can’t. I have roller derby practice tomorrow. When I got to the skate shop, I switched out my blades for yellow converse runners that have enough room for me to wiggle my toes in.
“What name should I put it under?” asks the clerk.
“Kiss. Charlie Kis
Chapter 5 (Madhouse Funhouse) FunTime Amusement ParkChapter 5 (Madhouse Funhouse) by Geli-K
June 12, 2014
God, this is such a tedious job. Just watching all of those little snot-nosed brats parading in and out of the Funhouse with idiotic grins plastered on their stupid faces… I could vomit. It’s sickening, it’s boring, and above all I have to wear this stupid red jacket! I didn’t think there was anything worse than the Institution jumpsuit, but it turns out I was mistaken.
I lean against the wall of the Funhouse while Allie lets people into the Funhouse. Our job is to make sure that only X amount of children are in the Funhouse for Y amount of time. Dull work. I am glad I have my book with me.
As I skim “The Psychopath Test”, I notice similarities between the text and what Charlie told m
Charlie’s expression was absolutely priceless as she finally puts the pieces together. This is what I live for. The shock in their eyes as they realize that I was not their friend, I never had been. The horror in their expressions as I smile at them and draw my knife.
The emotions in Charlie’s eyes faded quickly. Now, they are dead. Blank.
Her gaze flicks over to Lizzie. It is the only evidence that the gears are still turning in her head. I honestly do not see why she is so concerned about that other girl. She is annoying and wears tacky, chipped nail polish.
“Why have you singled me out?” she asks. I open my mouth and she cuts me off with, “I know you say I’m “interesting”, but big deal. A turtle can be interesting. Why are you doing this?”
“I promised to be straightforward with you, and I will be.” I sigh slightly. “You say I singled you out. I suppose I did. But think about it… would you rather have been cracked across the back of the head with a wooden board, tied up and cut with knives?”
Charlie frowns and bites her lip. Her shoulders are shaking.
“I like you because you refuse to be intimidated. You are strong. You are stubborn. You are brave. You are very clever.” I reach for her and tuck a loose hair behind her ear.
She stares at my hand like it is a tarantula, but does not move away.
I allow my hand to linger for a moment. “Those are redeeming qualities in anyone, ones that you have already demonstrated to me, tonight.” I draw my hand back. “We seem to be polar opposites in most areas, but we are similar.”
“Enlighten me.” Her voice is terse and her eyes are not focussed on me. She is still looking at Lizzie. She edges away from me so I will not touch her again.
“Very well. You follow your emotions but you let logic rule them. I use logic primarily, yet sometimes my emotions get the better of me. You are kind, I am callous. You do not appear to care too deeply for things such as appearance, while I am very aware of my… qualities.”
“Quite.” The corner of my mouth twitches. “On the other hand, we are both clever, strong, and we both find the inner workings and imperfections of the human mind to be fascinating…”
“At least I don’t have to live it,” she snaps, her voice cracking. “Don’t forget, you’re the crazy person, here.”
“You came to meet me even though it is extremely likely that I will kill you.” I tap my nails on the skull. It is cool under my fingertips. “If that is not considered mad, I believe I will need to rework my definition.”
“I value the chance to save the lives of others, even though I’m risking my own.”
I wave my hand dismissively. “Well, one of them is already gone, so it does not matter for him, anyway.”
She pales. Her voice breaks, again. “Who…?”
I wave her off. “You will figure it out, later. It is unimportant.”
Outrage. Her eyes fill with fire. Her hands grip the table. “Not important?!”
I shrug. “Not to me, anyway. He’s just another name to add to my list.”
“Sixteen, now, I suppose.” She frowns at her lap.
I click my tongue and shake my head slowly. “Wrong. That makes an even forty.”
“Forty. That list they had in the newspaper is inaccurate. I ought to call the editors to rectify this error.”
Charlie stares at me hard. Her expression burns with hatred and steadfast resolute. “That seems awfully cocky of you.”
“That may be.” I tapped my fingers on the skull and crossed my legs. Charlie’s shoulders are rigid. She stares at me, not willing to look away, but I can see that she finds me repulsive. Terrifying.
I check the time on my phone. “You are growing boring very fast, Charlie. Keep in mind that the longer you entertain me, the longer you and the others have to live.”
Her eyes grow wide. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”
“You are clever,” I say. “Think of something.”
Her hands plunge into her backpack, searching frantically through a mess of papers and books for something to inspire her. The red roller skates sit close to the top with their laces tied together.
“Care to explain about the rollerblades?” I rest my elbow on the table and prop my chin up with my fingers.
They clack together when she lifts them by the laces. “I’m a roller derby champ. I’m the jammer.”
“The more I go around the track, the more points I score.” She flicks a wheel. “Our team is doing pretty well, at the moment.”
“Why do you like it?”
“I like the speed and I don’t mind getting roughed up a bit. I had brothers growing up, so I was always covered in bruises.” I notice that her sentences spill out quickly, as though she is trying to make a barrier of words between herself and me. “We would wrestle and fight all the time.”
“Brothers?” I ask. “How many?”
“Three.” She bites her lip and shifts the conversation away from herself. “Did you have any family growing up?”
“Not particularly. I was an only child and I had neglectful parents who allowed me to come and go as I pleased.”
“I see.” She pauses, her eyes watching the spinning wheels on her blades as she thinks. “I’m curious… What’s your greatest accomplishment? I consider mine to be a tie between winning the derby championship last year and getting into my first choice University.”
“This Funhouse, by far, is mine,” I tell her. “It is magnificent, is it not? I take great pride in this… work of art.”
Although she flinches when I refer to it as “art”, she feigns an approving nod. “Yeah. It’s… nice.” Her eyes dart back down to Lizzie, who is shifting just a tiny bit. “What inspired you?”
“As silly as it sounds, I was inspired by a song.”
“That one you were playing…?”
“Something similar. I can show you later. It is rather catchy.”
“Well, inspiration comes from all places. I wanted to learn about the human mind after reading “Sherlock Holmes” when I was a kid.” She tapped her chin. “Did you set out for a life of crime?”
“I would not go so far as to call it a lifestyle,” I say. “But I did set out for it, I suppose. I made my first kill when I was sixteen years old. His name was Alex. I seduced him, murdered him in the woods, and threw his dismembered body into the stream. His murder remains unsolved.”
Charlie lets her horrified expression smooth into something calmer. “I see. How did you feel? What’s it like to take a life?”
I smile a little. “Fun. Energizing. Powerful. It is easy to take the lives of those who are weaker and stupider than oneself, but it is far more fun to aim high and dream big. I highly recommend taking the life of another at least once. I am sure you would enjoy it.”
Charlie spins the wheels on her roller-skates. “I would never do such a thing.” She looked over to Lizzie. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I hurt someone like that.”
I shrug. “You never know until you try. You are like me, remember? You would probably enjoy it on some level.”
She furrows her brow and gnashes her teeth. “I’m not like you.”
“You would be surprised.”
Charlie has captured my interest in a way that has not been done for three long years. Clever, brave, yet naïve. Amusing to play with. She is not hard on the eyes, either, even when she is bruised and frightened.
She is getting fidgety. Her eyes endlessly scan the room, unable to linger or focus on anything for more than a second. Her fingers twist together and untwist, twist and untwist. Her feet tap the floor over and over again.
I heave a loud sigh to puncture the lingering silence. “Bored, again.”
Charlie clenches her fists. “You get bored easily.”
“I suppose.” I got to my feet and picked up the apron that was slung over the back of my chair. I put it on, tying the cord around my waist. “I better entertain myself, since you appear to be too frightened to do so.”
“No!” she says, her eyes lingering on the blood that is splattered on my apron. “S-sit down. I’ll entertain you.”
I raise an eyebrow and look over my shoulder at her. “Well? Go on. I’m waiting.”
Her eyes scan the ceiling as though looking for an answer. Finding none, she closed her eyes. “… How about a game?”
A game? Actually, that is not a bad idea. I smirk and take my seat, again.
Her expression twists when she sees it. “I don’t like that look.”
“You do have good ideas, sometimes, Charlie. Let us play a game.” I caress the top of the ceramic skull. “Have you played Predator?”
“No. I don’t like the sounds of it.”
“It is simple. A more descriptive name for it is hide-and-seek-tag.”
She frowns. “What’s your point?”
“Simple. We will put a twist on it.” I grin. “I will give you a five minute head start. Five minutes. No more, no less. Your job is to go and try to free all of the people I have here. My job is to try to catch you.”
Charlie sets her jaw. “What happens if you catch me?”
“Put it this way…” I pick up the skull and hurl it across the room with all my might. It shatters into a million pieces with an explosive crack. I look over to Charlie and hold out my empty hands. “Get the picture?”
She nods. Her expression remains unchanged. “Got it. One question…?”
“Do I get a hint?”
I pace across the room. “A five minute head start and a hint? It seems you are trying to stack the deck, my friend.”
She juts out her jaw. “No. I’m just trying to even the odds. And we’re not friends.”
“No. No hints.” I reach into my jacket and pull out the knife. Lizzie is still unconscious at my feet. Her eyes move under her lids as she dreams, probably about me. “Just for asking, I am going to get rid of the easiest one, first. Just to keep things interesting.” I pull on a pair of blue rubber gloves. They snap on my wrists. I take my knife from the apron pocket.
“Wait, what? NO!” Charlie jumps to her feet.
Before she can take a single step, I kneel and dig my knife into Lizzie’s throat, slicing the jugular and carotid in one smooth stroke. I remove the knife. Crimson spills over her throat and fake blonde hair. Her eyes flutter briefly and she gurgles before her breath stops forever.
I get back to my feet. Charlie’s eyes are huge. Her mouth is agape. Her foot is frozen above the ground in mid-step.
“Consider that incentive,” I tell her. I stoop to wipe the knife on Lizzie’s red jacket before tucking it away into my apron. “The same fate will fall for the others if you fail…”
I pause. Charlie is shaking. She looks lost.
“If I catch you, of course, I think I will most likely keep you around a bit as a sort of… pet.” I say the word with vigor and let it linger on my tongue for an extra moment. “We could do great things if you turn to my side, Charlie.”
“I will never kill anyone!” she snarls. Her gaze is still fixed on Lizzie. She looks green. Oh dear, I hope she does not faint.
I peel off my gloves and toss them aside carelessly. “You just might change your mind.”
Charlie narrows her eyes at me and straightens. She squares up her shoulders.
“My hint. Now.” Charlie’s voice is vibrating with anger. I can almost taste her rage boiling just under the surface, barely controlled.
“If I must.” I wander back over to the chair and take a seat. My feet go up on the table. “Let me see… two floors… there are of them seven left… There are three on this floor, four on the bottom.”
“That’s not a proper hint.” She crosses her arms. “Give me a hint about where to start.”
“Alright, if you insist. You are being rather pushy.”
She opens and closes her fists. Words seem to fail her.
I tap my chin. Which direction should I send her in? “Just look around. You should be able to find them. Are you fond of snakes?”
“Good.” I fold my hands together. “There, now. I have given you plenty. Off you trot.” I pick up my new phone and set a timer. “Five minutes, then I come to play.”
She does not move. I am not certain she is able to.
I put my hands over my eyes and sigh dramatically. “One… two… three…”
Charlie dashes across the room, grabs her bat, and is off like a rocket. I hear her footsteps, fast and frantic as she tries to find her friends. Now it is just me, the shattered skull, and the shell that once was Lizzie.
Do I feel sorry for any of them?
Of course not.
I do feel a bit bad about tossing that poor book around, though. I walk across the room, sidestepping blood and broken shards of ceramic skull, and pick up the yellow book. I take my seat and thumb through the pages I have already been over.
The time ticks away slowly. There are no sounds in the building, except for the turning of my pages and the thumping footsteps as Charlie races down the halls. I can hear her calling the names of her coworkers. Of course, they are all gagged, but I do not worry. She will find one or two at least.
Time is up. I walk back over to the wall where the grey panel is. I push a button and hook the microphone up. I turn a few knobs. I pause for a moment as I try to decide what I ought to say.
I smirk. Obvious. After all, is this not hide-and-seek?
I raise the microphone to my mouth. My voice booms through the Funhouse. It rumbles and rolls and echoes off of the many, many mirrors.
“Ready or not, here I come!”
Chapter 12 (Madhouse Funhouse) FunTime Amusement Park
June 12, 2014
As soon as I step inside the Funhouse, I immediately find myself facing rows upon rows of bent mirrors. In some I look pencil thin, in others I look twice my normal width and half my normal height, and in still others I look twisted and warped.
I push the images far from my mind and focus on the routes in the maze. There are three different directions I could go: forward, left, or right. Coloured light strips around the edges of the mirrors and doorways are the only lighting in this gloomy place, casting the reflections of my face in shadows of sickening hues. Some of the lights fizz and flicker, but that is hardly Correggio’s doing. The lights have always been faulty.
I choose to go straight. My footsteps echoed quietly aroun
I'm fundraising for a trip to study abroad in JAPAN for SIX MONTHS! I'll be selling my dad's t-shirts, but that's TBA. For now, I've started up a donation pool!
I've been shortlisted for my top choice program! Wish me luck!
Hey, my name is Geli. I'm a teenager. I really like to draw cartoons and write. I can pretend that I know how to play the piano. That's about it.|
When I grow up, I want to be a cartoonist/ writer more then anything, but hey, things change, and anything can happen!
I'm open for collabs and trades, FYI, but no requests, sorry.