by Voss Foster
tearing up the walls, hoping to get something I could use, but everything broke. Hell, I don't even know if regular tools would work on this thing. I might need pneumatics. Which I really highly doubt whoever put us here would leave lying around.
But I really don't have anything else to do. So, I'm taking a bed sheet full of food, just in case something goes wrong, and I'm going looking, starting tomorrow. Maybe I can find something, anything.
ENTRY END
TO: Board Members
FROM: Niels Evenstad
SUBJECT: Tomorrow's Meeting
SENT 11/12/2071 AT 5:06 p.m. EST
This is in regards to the meeting of the board tomorrow. Dr. Matilda Grand will be in attendance. She is a psychologist, and has given a favorable enough review of The Park's psychological impact on the players that we should be able to push the program through without too much issue. However, she is under the impression that the contestant deaths will be somehow fabricated. It is important that she continue to believe this, so no slips of the tongue.
I will see you all tomorrow,
Niels Evenstad
Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media
JOURNAL 07JULIA
ENTRY 002
DATE: 1/11/2074
I'm writing this down, because if I don't somehow get it on record, I don't think it's going to count. I need to make sure that I remember this and that it's going to stick.
I'm not cut out for this. I mean, I don't know if anyone's really cut out for this. You can't live like this, always wondering when you're going to be attacked, or when some mysterious kidnapper is going to come back and throw your whole life into chaos, again.
So I'm just going to go back to the way things were. I'm a line cook, and I haven't been to work in over a week. So this morning was sausage and some canned biscuits I found in the fridge. Just cooking like that and eating food that I actually put something of myself into, I feel better. I don't have any cleaning supplies, but there's a mop and some water. I'm going to do the best I can.
Dinner's already in the oven. There were some chicken breasts and canned potatoes, so I'm letting them roast.
This place is weird. It's like they just pulled all the people out of a trailer park, then stuck us in and closed it off. Everything's still here. But I know that's not true. All the bags and boxes and everything are full and unopened. But these Evenstad people went to a lot of trouble to make it feel like the real thing.
Enough of that. I'm not staying on track already. Cooking, cleaning, sleeping. Those are three things I know I can do.
As a final reminder to myself, in case I need it, the medallion is in the drawer in the nightstand. I'm not going to keep wearing it. It'll just remind me that I'm not actually at home even more.
ENTRY END
MINUTES: EVENSTAD MEDIA BOARD OF DIRECTORS MEETING
11/13/2071
PAGE 6
N. EVENSTAD (cont.): moneymaking machine.
S. CALDER: And the worst public image we'll have ever had.
N. EVENSTAD: Not if we play it right, Sarah. You know it's all in the marketing.
S. CALDER: And I know that marketing can only do so much. You're talking about a game where even the winner comes out in need of therapy. How do you think the public is going to react to that?
N. EVENSTAD: The same way they react to a car crash. They'll watch it, and then they'll keep watching as long as possible. Which is once a week. And the winner will be compensated a small fortune for their participation.
M. GRAND: I don't think the psychological trauma will be all that intense. That was one of Mr. Evenstad's key concerns when he presented the premise of the experiment to me. I won't say that the winner, or anyone, will come out of it in perfect mental health, but I hardly think anyone can expect that with an experiment of this nature.
N. EVENSTAD: You see. As I've told you all several times, I've been through the psychological ramifications of the experience in depth. In your folders, you'll find a complete copy of Dr. Grand's thoughts on the matter.
S. CALDER: I still don't agree with this, Niels.
N. EVENSTAD: You don't have to agree with it, Sarah. We've taken a vote. The show will go into production. And I am personally done humoring further discussion of this matter. There are more pressing things to go over.
D. YOSTER: I agree. My people have gone through the current proposal for this show and, according to the numbers that you have given as an estimate, there's hardly any profit in this for us.
N. EVENSTAD: I had your department run the numbers as well. And I agreed with you. Which is why I am making an addition to the initial proposal. Online content. Special, extended footage. Obviously, we'll have hundreds of hours of footage that we can't put into the weekly shows. But, for a small fee, any fan can have access to any of the footage our cameras record. I had your department run the numbers with that included, and the profits are considerably prettier to look at, even if only ten percent of our expected viewership subscribes to the program.
D. YOSTER: How much prettier?
N. EVENSTAD: An increase in profits of about seventy-five percent. Possibly more, depending on our final decisions on the matter.
D. YOSTER: That is impressive, Niels. But there are much more efficient ways of making more money on this program. I mean, the current proposal involves acquiring a truly massive amount of empty land, one-hundred mobile homes, and more than a years' supply of food for these twelve mystery contestants, plus electricity and water and construction costs. And these energy storage units. That's a six-figure cost alone.
N. EVENSTAD: I'm currently in negotiations with my brother Frederick. When this show airs, it will be an excellent chance for Evenstad Technologies to debut their technology. And there's no better stage than national primetime. I believe we can use that to get a greatly reduced price on the CESUs.
D. YOSTER: And the land? Leave alone the fact that we have to find empty land not owned by the government, the average cost of an acre is over ten-thousand, right now. Something has to be sacrificed, if this is to be a true moneymaking machine, as you claim.
N. EVENSTAD: I'm sure we can find a compromise.
JOURNAL 09TINA
ENTRY 003
DATE: 1/11/2074
I can't take this crap anymore. I'm starting to see things, cooped up like this. I don't care if it's safe, according to logic. Logic obviously isn't working anymore. No matter what I tell myself, no matter what I actually know to be true, there's this big, heavy ball of fear and worry and angst and shit that just sits there in my stomach and grows and throbs.
I don't think there's any way out, either. I think this is my life, until I die. I tried to break out, but I wasn't willing to go out close to the edge and draw attention to myself. The medallion made a loud noise, but I had to try. I couldn't see, but I don't think I got anywhere close to the ceiling. I can't even see the ceiling. Probably too high up, anyway.
But I'm still stuck here, just waiting for something terrible to happen. I'm forcing myself to eat, right now, because I know that I need to keep putting fuel into my body. But I'm barely even tasting it, anymore. It's like I can feel myself fraying. Right now, it's small things, tears at the edges of my senses. But it's only going to work deeper and deeper. Something has got to change. Otherwise I'm not going to make it out of this hellhole intact. Of course, I still might not make it out intact, even if I can pull myself together. Not if only one of us can survive.
ENTRY END.
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA
ENTRY 002
DATE: 1/11/2074
In the end, it was the food that got me where I am. I could smell it on the air. I never learned to cook. I guess it got sacrificed for my career. Not that big of a deal, really. Except that I've spent nearly two weeks subsisting on tap water and canned vegetable
s. So, I admit it, I was weak. I smelled real, cooked food and I went for it. I was fully ready to attack whoever it was that had it, too. Luckily for both of us, it didn't come down to it. This Julia lady, she was willing to share her dinner with me. I'd actually say she was happy to share, which I don't get. Unless she wanted me to eat it. Flashing on the witch in the gingerbread cottage. Come eat my food so I can shove you in the oven.
That's why I ate in the living room, not with her in the dining room. She wasn't about to get anything over on me, if that was her intention. Really good chicken, though. I'm all around impressed with this lady. She's managing to keep her cool a hell of a lot better than I am. Which is pretty damn scary. She's carrying on life like nothing's going on. Which means she's got a reason to be confident. Or she's some kind of sociopath. Either way, not things I want in an opponent.
But, so far, she hasn't tried to kill me. After I finish up, I'm going to head to a new trailer so she can't find me. But she's already invited me back for breakfast. I'll probably come. If it's anywhere near as good as this dinner, I'll be more than satisfied. But I'll be keeping a good watch on her, too.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 11SUSAN
ENTRY 002
DATE: 1/12/2074
I've set up defenses around the trailer. It's taken some time, but it's important. I have no tools, but I've torn apart pieces of the house to do what I could. I dug holes, made some makeshift nets from sheets, put some things around the door. I had to go to a few other trailers, get hinges, tear open mattresses for springs. Nothing is strong, but it will suffice. Good enough for me