The Game at Carousel: A Horror Movie LitRPG

I tried to rest—I really did—but the anticipation prodded me awake.

For a moment, a fleeting thought entered my mind: after Second Blood, I could easily be dead, and I might actually be able to get a nap.

I had to dismiss that. It was sometimes scary how casual I could be about my own death.

Not quite as scary as realizing that one of the lights on the red wallpaper had changed—and suddenly, while lying on the ground in the night, I was On-Screen.

That wasn't so out of the ordinary in a normal storyline. But this was a found footage storyline, and with few exceptions, the only things that ended up On-Screen were things I filmed with the camera in my magic pocket.

But here I was, On-Screen, trying not to open my eyes too quickly.

Still, I took a deep breath, opened them, and then stretched my neck.

By the time I did that, I was back Off-Screen.

I looked around the room.

Nothing was happening.

Yet, I noticed that Logan had also woken up casually and was looking around. We made eye contact.

Then I heard a jingle.

At first, I thought it was someone messing with their keys, but then I realized it was one of Bobby's dogs moving their head and causing the tag to ring against the floor.

Both Logan and I looked over at the dog.

As we did, we realized two things: First, the dog was staring at something in the corner of the room. Second, the dog was On-Screen—as was Bobby, who was lying down right behind it.

Soon, the other dog, the one called Shasta, was alerted as well. She stood next to her sibling, staring at the corner of the room.

I tried looking, but I saw nothing—only darkness.

I glanced back at Logan, then at the dogs.

Suddenly, I was back On-Screen, but only for a moment.

The dogs were becoming more interested as they walked toward the corner—not all the way to it, stopping about seven feet away.

Shasta let out a low growl.

The other dog was putting on a brave face but wasn't quite willing to commit.

"Shasta, Doughboy—what are you looking at?" Bobby whispered, having finally woken up due to the growling.

Again, I was On-Screen, but only for a moment.

That was strange. Normally, when Carousel filmed an area, it was overly inclusive when it came to Off-Screen/On-Screen status. If you were in a normal-sized room and someone was On-Screen, you probably were too—even if, come to find out, you weren't in the final cut.

But here, I could look throughout the group and see that we were going On-Screen and Off-Screen in a pattern—like one of those invisible magic cameras that Carousel used was moving back and forth, zooming in until it could only capture one person at a time and then back out.

In fact, that revelation shocked me—because I recognized that behavior.

That was the same thing that happened when I filmed someone with my camera. Unlike Carousel's omniscient version, the camera that I used only put you On-Screen if you were in view. 𝘙аℕɵꞖĚᶊ

I stared into the corner, into the darkness.

And I saw nothing.

"What's going on?" Kimberly asked.

No one had an answer—except for Shasta, who barked.

She was a mixed breed with long hair and a serious face. Even in the dim light, I could see her eyes were focused on something—something she was just daring to misbehave.

Bobby had brought the Animal Whisperer trope, which gave his dogs the trope Animals Are Psychic—allowing them to perceive things beyond their ordinary senses, a common trope in horror movies.

However, Shasta and Doughboy were not the only ones with psychic powers in this storyline. Though it was not clear how my psychic grandmother background trope would manifest my abilities.

This was a time travel storyline.

So, what it meant to be psychic was kind of up in the air.

Still, remembering back to the conversation Dina had had with her son—the one I had eavesdropped on—my mind wandered as I stared into the corner, trying to piece together what exactly it was that Shasta was perceiving.

I jumped to my feet, took out my own camera, and started filming.

🔴 REC    SEP 25, 2018 03:03:15    [▮▮▮▮▮ 100%]

The corner was empty.

There was nothing there. Just a floor and two walls meeting.

The nothing moved to the left toward the window but soon moved back to the right. I couldn't see it, but Shasta could, and I trusted her

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■ STOP

I went On-Screen when I was filming because I was the one holding the camera, and I didn't stop being On-Screen when I turned the camera off

Taking a cue from Dina's little conversation, I flipped open the viewfinder and decided to look at the video I had just recorded

▶ PLAY   SEP 25, 2018 03:03:15

And I saw nothing.

Maybe a few artifacts—because the camera was having trouble filming at night and had changed its settings to night vision automatically. I could have sworn I saw something—some patterns in those artifacts—but a technological problem could easily explain it.

I watched the video multiple times. Artifacts—just rogue pixels—moved back and forth where the nothing had walked toward the window and then back to the corner.

Static played.

And while it was just static—truly just static—I felt like I could hear something in it.

It was hard to be sure if it wasn't just in my head, but I felt like I heard footsteps.

Squeaking floorboards were common in the jailhouse.

Kimberly and Logan were standing behind me, watching.

"I don't see anything," Logan said as he squinted at the screen.

And I didn't blame him—because I wasn't even confident enough to say that those random artifacts meant anything either.

But then something occurred to me.

An idea.

I knew that within this magic system, physical records that contained evidence of time travel would change as the past was changed—things like history books or snuff films.

The past was a place that you could never find, despite how much evidence it left behind.

Instead of relying on my eyes to see what was in the corner, I just tried to remember.

Had I seen anything in the moonlight? Had I seen a depression on the floor, where these old floorboards had given way to something weighing them down?

I pictured the moment Shasta had turned her head toward the window and turned her head back.

And as I remembered that moment, a jolt of electricity jumped from my gut to my heart and out toward my fingers—as I recalled something that I hadn't seen in the first place.

There was a man in a trench coat standing in the corner.

I remembered it.

My visual memory had recorded it somehow, even though I wasn't aware of it at the time.

The man stood in the corner, holding his large '90s camera.

The Generation Killer had found us—in a way I never expected.

I nearly dropped the camera I was holding.

"What?" Kimberly asked.

"Something's over there," Bobby said. "The dogs are sure of it."

He wasn’t wrong.

"It’s him," I said.

I stared at the corner and watched for a few seconds. Then I closed my eyes and tried to remember what I had seen.

And sure enough, the scant traces of the man standing in the corner festered in my memory.

My head started to hurt.

He wasn’t there.

But I did remember him.

"Here," I said.

I grabbed a piece of newspaper off the ground that we had been using as very meager bedding and crumpled it up a little.

"I want you to watch this paper," I said. "Watch it and remember everything that happens."

Then, I threw the paper into the corner of the room. It bounced off the wall and gently fell to the ground, skidding—not too far away from where Shasta was standing.

"Now, close your eyes," I said. "And try to remember everything that just happened. Try to remember where the newspaper went—how it bounced off the wall."

I did exactly what I was telling them to do.

And as I did, I saw the paper.

It did strike the wall, but it seemed to pass right through the man. He flinched as the paper passed through. Did the paper even register that he was standing there? Did it rock a bit as it sailed through?

Maybe. I couldn’t tell.

Grant Leitner, one of the older versions of him, wasn’t angry at all.

I could tell he was saying something, but my auditory memory couldn’t quite give me the answers—humans were visual creatures, after all.

Kimberly closed her eyes.

And as she did, she opened them with a terrified look on her face.

“He’s here,” she said, confused and scared.

The others saw him too, one by one.

"What are you guys seeing?" Antoine asked.

It took him a moment to figure it out.

But eventually, he too remembered seeing a man in the corner—filming us.

I continued to stare at him for a few seconds as the others grabbed their things to prepare to leave. He was old. He was in his seventies, at least.

I would stare at the blank space in the corner—then try to remember what I saw.

The exercise was exhausting.

And I could hardly trust my memory—because I feared my imagination was doing the work instead.

Still, I remembered him reaching into his trench coat pocket—bringing out an old handheld radio with a long silver antenna.

I saw him speaking into it.

I noticed something else, too. I didn’t see an amulet on him. Not a ring or a bracelet. Nothing. Maybe it was in a pocket, but the other versions always displayed theirs.

He didn’t seem to have one at all.

And with a little bit of practice, I was finally able to do something that I had not been able to do by watching images of the man in videos.

I could see him—on the red wallpaper—if only for the briefest of moments.

Grant Leitner

is

Generation Killer

Plot Armor: 39

__________

Tropes

Always Watching

The villain can obtain a visual of the players at any time.

Open Book

This villain will not resist most Insight Tropes, regardless of stats.

Home Lair Advantage

The villain can travel freely, unnoticed, due to their knowledge of the setting and its passages - both public and secret.

It Plays With Its Food...

This villain spends its time toying with victims. Often, it enjoys the playing more than the killing.

No Neighborhood Watch

The villain will not be seen by NPC witnesses when off-screen

Tell me you got that!

In a found footage film, all major moments will be caught on film in some way.

Desperation

This villain is in a desperate situation. The worse their situation becomes, the more desperate and violent they will act. Debuffs Moxie and Savvy to buff Mettle and Hustle.

Unsettling Manner

Every time this villain fails a Moxie check, the player experiences fear and may become Incapacitated very briefly.

Blood Joy

This villain is energized by carnage. Witnessing or participating in murder, mutilation, or similar will buff an assortment of stats.

Nowhere to Run@@novelbin@@

The setting for this story is isolated. There is no one to ask for help within the story, and nowhere to go that the enemy will not find you.

Fungible Enemy

This enemy is composed of countless largely interchangeable units whose numbers will not diminish until the scene is concluded. There always seems to be more to come.

The Unseen Hand

This enemy is guided by a greater force. This guidance may be a part of the lore or the meta.

Strength In Numbers

The enemy is at its strongest in groups. Singling its members out will weaken them substantially.

Intellectual Curiosity

This villain will alter normal targeting to pursue players who trigger his curiosity.

Headshots Only

Only fatal or otherwise completely debilitating blows will take out this enemy.

Minesweeper

This enemy or group of enemies will always lose a stat check related to a trap. Survivors and onlookers will never lose a check against a similar trap again.

After a few minutes, I could no longer remember him standing there. I joined the others in preparing to leave. We were Off-Screen, so I explained his tropes to them.

I was a bundle of nerves. I could barely think.

We weren’t just dealing with basic sci-fi time travel. We were dealing with something much scarier.