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 Permanent Vacancy.

We sat around the table and read it again, the memories flooding over us.

Dear Riley, Kimberly, and Antoine,

If you’re reading this, that means Silas agreed to Camden’s plan. Camden is a genius by the way. This was all his idea.

I’m sure you know this by now, but the helicopter ride we were meant to take to our storyline was doomed. We ended up running to the roller rink Riley pointed out near the airport. Reggie used a trope to sacrifice himself so that we could get there in time to beat the black snow. I hope he survived. I wish I could tell Grace how much of a hero he was.

The storyline was called Post-Traumatic. It involved time travel. Camden tells me I cannot say too much because we don’t want to spoil the story. Suffice it to say, he realized Carousel didn’t use real-time travel to make the story work. It just recreated the past. He figured that a version of the Carousel Atlas existed in the past, so we went to pick one up. It was amazing.

As much as I would like to say that we are going to try our best and conquer this storyline just the two of us, I know that isn’t realistic. When Camden passes, I will officially be the Last One Alive and Silas will show up to give me my Aspect. I will attach the Atlas to the back of Silas so other players don’t see it. It contains information that they should never see.

~

I had written up pages and pages to send. I wanted to talk about the times we shared before Carousel. I wanted to talk about the feelings I have for each of you, and I wanted to tell you how much I love you all.

I didn’t include those because Camden showed me the Atlas Holders’ Journal. In those writings, I found hope. Horror, too, but above all else, hope.

You don’t need me to send you a letter telling you how I feel because I want you to come and save me so I can tell you in person.

I will choose the Girl Next Door Aspect. I think it fits my personality the best. Look it up in the Atlas so you will know what to expect when you come to save us.

With love,

Anna

P.S. Camden says hello. He is in his own world right now marking up the Atlas so that you can find the important information quickly. He isn’t feeling very well either.

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 Last One Alive.

I read the Aspect trope aloud:

The Heart

Type: Rule/Buff

Archetype: Final Girl

Aspect: Girl Next Door

Stat Used: Moxie*

The Final Girl is the heart of any team she is on. As long as the heart still beats, the team may live.

Lone Survivor: the player will participate in their own rescue.

As a Girl Next Door, you are the Heart of your team and once you are the Lone Survivor, you may choose to end the story instantly, never needing to feel death’s embrace, and keeping all character progress and narrative momentum you had previously. When a Rescue team arrives, you will reawaken as a main character of the Rescue storyline.

Allies will be subtly buffed when protecting the player.

This ticket is granted after the player is the Last One Alive following the achievement of Plot Armor 21. Selecting this ticket aligns you with the Girl Next Door aspect.

“As long as blood pumps in your veins there is hope. Whether it pumps through your veins and then out an open wound is a separate question.”

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 Writ of Habitation 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 Post-Traumatic 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 Coming to a Theater Near You 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 Project Rewind 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.

Dark, foreboding music played in the background.

The screen showed scenes of teenagers enjoying themselves at a roller rink. Everything looked vibrant and carefree. Laughter and joy filled the air, but the music remained heavy and ominous, creating an unsettling contrast.

The screen faded to black as the sound of an explosion rang out. A strange, unsettling noise followed—a mix of a building collapsing and something far worse.

The scene cut to a close-up of Anna, her expression troubled as she spoke.

“You mean he’s been traveling to moments in time where people are killed?” she asked.

The room was dimly lit as Camden appeared, shaking his head weakly.

“No,” he replied. “He’s targeting tragic events with that book. His amulets could only take him to points in time where humans suffered. The roller rink, the bridge collapse… Now he’s creating his own mass casualty events.”

For a brief moment, the camera focused on a worn paperback book in Camden’s bloodied hand. The cover, splattered with blood, displayed the title: The Town of Carousel: Horrific Events Through the Ages.

The trailer jumped to quick cuts of Anna and Camden sprinting down filthy alleyways and darkened streets, pursued by a menacing figure in an overcoat. A faintly glowing amulet around the figure’s neck pulsed with an eerie rhythm.

The tension rose, leading to a gut-wrenching moment.

Camden was bound to a table, screaming in agony. His right arm was gone below the elbow, and the ominous figure from before stood over him. One hand held the glowing amulet, while the other clutched a wicked ice pick. As the figure used it to torment Camden, the amulet’s glow brightened, pulsing in sync with Camden’s cries.

The camera panned to a cluttered table covered in yellowed newspaper clippings, each depicting black-and-white photos of disasters—fires, floods, mass killings—all tied to Carousel’s grim history.

The next scene showed Camden, even more battered and bloodied, but somehow having escaped.

“If we’re going to stop him, we need to get ahead of him! Do it!” Camden shouted.

The screen cut to Anna, her hands trembling as she held a power drill. Her face was streaked with tears, filled with uncertainty and anguish.

“Do it!” Camden yelled again, his voice desperate.

The shot lingered on Anna’s back as the drill whirred to life. Camden’s screams pierced the air. Around Anna’s neck, the glowing amulet began to flicker and pulse, a sign that their desperate plan was working.

The screen faded to black.

Finally, the title card appeared: Post-Traumatic.

A narrator’s voice declared, “Some scars don’t fade in time.”

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.

The Town of Carousel: Horrific Events Through the Ages.

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, most 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.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep