by Foster, Voss
So that's where I am: a silent room, sitting across from my captor. Or ally. I'm still a little fuzzy on the exact nature of our relationship. Fuzzy enough that I'm planning on keeping a sharpened up piece of metal siding in bed with me tonight. Just in case. But maybe I'll be okay. And once I get some alone time with her scrabbled together tools, I can break into the CESU and get the hell away. At least, that's my best plan right now. Which means I really am desperate.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 07JULIA
ENTRY 003
DATE: 1/13/2074
I'm so happy that Christina came back again. It gives me more to cook for and I'm actually feeling pretty good. I feel useful. I haven't felt useful since I moved in here.
Christina's finally starting to relax, too. She actually took her jacket off for dinner, which is a big step. She looks like she takes care of herself. Her skin is a bit of a nightmare. She probably wore a lot of makeup. She looks like some kind of businesswoman, to me. Slacks, jacket, nice shirt. Like she just got yanked off the sidewalk on the way to some corporate skyscraper sort of job.
I think I could get used to having her around. I'm going to offer her one of the other bedrooms, after dinner. She can take whichever she wants. She's told me several times that she doesn't want to stay here. She doesn't trust me. But lately, she's not putting as much force behind the words. Or it's just my imagining it. I could see myself getting close to her, if she'll actually allow it. I think she will, too. It might take a little bit of time, a few more days, maybe a couple weeks. It seems to me that I have a lot of time to work her down. But I want to keep her around. She makes me feel good. Beyond the extra cooking I get to do with her around, too. She just kind of makes me feel good. And I like that.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 09TINA
ENTRY 004
DATE: 1/14/2074
I'm so lucky to be alive right now. But I am alive, and I have this Craig guy to thank for it. Not my stupid ass, that's for sure. I couldn't just hole up in my house alone anymore. I was weak, and I admit it. Rather than push through or find a way to stop the stupid, pointless paranoia, I ran away. At the time, I guess it must have made sense. I wasn't doing well in the house, so leave, right? Leave and run out into the huge death trap trailer park for everyone to kill me. At least I didn't go and use the medallion against a flutter in the wind. That kind of noise would have drawn everyone straight to me, I bet.
It didn't save me. I tripped over a hole and didn't think anything of it. But pulling away didn't happen. It was a snare. A painful snare. Whoever made it stuck some nails or tacks in there. As soon as it tightened, it drew blood. But when I fell, I didn't quite have the mental capacity to figure that out. All I could think was shit, shit, shit, shit, get away. And pulling like that just dug the sharp shit deeper into my ankle, which made me panic even more.
When the lights came on in a trailer, my head cleared. That's when I looked down and saw the snare around my leg. White fabric, twisted and knotted and reddening with my blood. I slid back, grabbed the knot, and pulled it loose. I saw a shadow come my way and yanked my foot out. Too late, though. I managed to get to my feet and raise up my medallion, but there was another one pointing in my face. The lady carrying it was a little dumpy looking, with totally unnatural red hair. I didn't get any more than that. Fear tends to blur things out.
I tried to threaten her, but I couldn't make words. I could see the difference between us, and it left me in a weaker position. Weak, weak, weak. My hand was shaking, but her medallion stayed even, aimed right at my head.
I don't remember exactly what she said, but it meant that I wasn't walking away. That's when I got my ass saved. I heard someone else coming and figured one or both of us were screwed. I was leaning toward whoever it was probably killing both of us.
But he put himself right in the middle. Him, I heard fine. That's how it always works, I figure. No one ever mishears their savior.
"Susan, just wait."
"All but one of us has to die. I don't want to go through you, but I will. You already did your part."
"She could help. She got out."
"Doesn't matter."
Bless him, I knew he was trying to help. But it was a snare. Who can't get out of a snare? At least once they see it. But he didn't give up.
"You don’t know what she can do. She could be helpful."
"Two is already too many people. I won't have three."
I just started talking. I said anything I could. And all I could think about were the traps that I, like an idiot, had gotten into. In the light from her trailer, I could see things a little better. Simple things, but effective. More snares, some crude nets made out of fabric, holes, sharp things scattered around.
About the stupidest thing I could have done, but I started criticizing. The couple nets strung up in trees or from the eaves of the trailer were easy to cut or tear through. The holes weren't deep enough to do real damage, unless someone sprained an ankle. No alarms.
That got a reaction from Susan. "Plenty of alarms. You don't need to hear them."
Craig sighed. "Don't you think she can help us? She already found errors that I could fix."
I hadn't. This was about as good as I could think it would get, given the lack of any real tools. I never would have thought to make traps in the first place. That would have been a lot better than running around like an idiot in the dark.
Susan lowered her medallion. Kind of. It wasn't pointed directly at my head, which I would settle for. But it would do some real damage to my knees, the way she had it now. Enough that I wouldn't be getting away without help. "You stay, you help fix things. We don't talk unless I start the conversation. Leave when you want."
That was it. She left me alone. I touched Craig on the shoulder. "Thank you."
"I don't know if I helped you."
Comforting.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 11SUSAN
ENTRY 003
DATE: 1/14/2074
I caved in on the new one. Craig might have left if I killed her there, and he's too important to me right now. She might be able to fix things up. I don't know. I won't deal with her. I have to stay unattached enough to kill them both. Craig is already iffy, but I can still do it. For twenty million dollars, I can do a lot of things.
ENTRY END
Evenstad Media's New Hit Sensation: The Park
1/14/2074 at 1:18 p.m. EST
When The Park first aired, I didn't give it much thought. I don't put a lot of faith in reality shows, and this was just another in a long line of them, spewed out to rend money from customer since before I was born. But there was nothing else on, and The Park's series premiere was being advertised on every channel I tried. I gave it a chance.
Brilliance. I can't normally apply that word to television, but this time, it really, truly fits. The Park is brilliant in so many different ways, not the least of which is the sheer amount of money the show must be raking in for Evenstad Media's already well-lined pockets. But even knowing that, I am more than willing to give them 180 minutes of my time each week to stay caught up. I even admit that I pay for a subscription to their scam, The Park 24/7.
Twelve total strangers, tossed into an enclosed, lightless trailer park. Nothing but them and some guards to shoot anyone trying to escape. And they couldn't have asked for a better opening, even if they scripted it. Nathan's death made it real. I'm sure they lost some people for that, but not this viewer. According to the ratings, which they proudly wave about, viewership actually increased after that first episode, and the initial run of 24/7 brought in six million subscribers. And that number has been climbing.
Among fans, at least in the online community, the big question is about the medallions. We were told from the very first episode that there were others hidden around The Park. How many, we don't know, but others. Most people assume them to be more devastating even than the dozen we have seen so far. And those people are probably making a good assumption. Perha
ps not every medallion will be a better tool, but I suggest many of them will be. No one has yet actively searched for medallions, that we've been shown, but I think they will be key. Something to take on the likes of Susan's pinpoint laser, Manfred's lightning, or Blake's shotgun-esque blast of energy.
And of course, the big question, the one that really keeps us coming back, is who will die next? Who will kill them? And who will win? As we have seen the contestants growing closer, even living with one another, I can't help but think that someone will be killed before too long, killed by an 'ally.'
TL;DR: The Park: watch it.
Phil Boggs
JOURNAL 06RITA
ENTRY 003
DATE: 1/14/2074
So, how are the ratings doing now? I haven't heard anyone setting off the alarm, or any gunshots. Sure, it could have been silent, done by hand or something, but my best guess is that things have been slowing down. Doesn't that mean that your viewers are losing interest? How much longer until you decide to take things into your own control? More than you have, I mean. Putting us in here might not be enough forever, if things don't keep up a decent speed. Lots of action, lots of blood, lots of violence. That's what keeps your little show making money, just like with anything else, nowadays.
Tell you what, though: I can help you out. Let's get everything going a little faster. I may have found myself a little friend. Slave. Pet. Whatever you want to call him. I've been watching him. I think he'll be an easy enough target. I can probably manipulate him by flashing my boobs a few times. Make him do whatever I want. Sound good to you? Do you censor that kind of nudity, or is it going to make it into the final cut of the show? Pixelated? Black bar? Little Xs over the nipples?
With all the help I'm giving you, I'm hoping for a little something in return. Get on that, would you, Evenstad?
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 08DESIREE
ENTRY 003
DATE: 1/14/2074
I feel so young. Justice and I are growing really, really close. He goes out in front of me, when we have to leave the house. He hasn't said anything about it, and I'm not going to bring it up. I know that You've done this for me, God. He can have as much time as he needs to figure out that truth for himself.
There's just one issue. He's decided that we need to go out and look for these medallions that are supposed to be hidden around the trailer park. I just don't know about it. He wants to do it so that we can protect ourselves better. It makes a lot of sense, in a way, but I'm not thrilled about it. We have a pretty good thing going right here. I want to keep it working, and I don't know if bringing in even more weapons is going to help that at all.
So God, I know that You've been doing a lot for me already. More than I ever, ever deserve. Thanks to You, I'm getting through this in one piece. But I need to ask You for a favor. A big favor. I need a sign, one way or another. Should we do this, or should we stay? Please, I beg of You, do this for me.
Amen.
ENTRY END
WHO IS GOING TO WIN THE PARK?
POLL 1
1: Susan (36%)
2: Justice (18%)
3: Christina (11%)
4: Craig (7%)
5: Rita (5%)
6: Tina (5%)
7: Blake (4%)
8: Manfred (4%)
9: Desiree (4%)
10: David (3%)
11: Julia (2%)
12: Nathan (1%)
(Information Collected by The Cruise)
JOURNAL 03BLAKE
ENTRY 003
DATE: 1/19/2074
I don't think I can keep playing the way I have been. I haven't been playing at all, really, just sitting around for the past three weeks. And that's not going to work. But I'm scared. Terrified. I don't want to do what it is I have to do, but I know that it has to happen. If I'm actually going to start playing, I have to work within the confines of their game. And their game isn't pleasant.
So, for the past couple days, I've been watching someone. He's probably my dad's age, maybe a little younger. He's got this tagalong old man. Way too old to help him out, if the time comes. When. I need to start saying when. It's going to happen. When the time comes for me to kill him, I know the old man won't be an issue. He looks like he'd get knocked over if I gave him a mean enough look.
I know where the two of them are staying and I've moved in closer so I don't miss out on my chance. When he comes out, I need to be ready to do it. I'll probably have to get really close to use the medallion, if I want to do any real damage. I don't want it to take a lot of time. I need to get this first one out of my way.
Right now, I'm just screwing with him. Rocks and sticks at the windows and walls. Anything to make noise that he might have to come look at, figure out what it is. I've been making things more and more obvious, trying to force him out. But he and the old man are both really resistant to leaving. Not surprising, but it's making my job harder than I'd really like it to be.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 12DAVID
ENTRY 005
DATE: 1/23/2074
There's someone outside of the house. I don't know why. Probably trying to pick off the weakest of the herd. Predators always do, and I can guess that Manfred and I rank pretty low on the threat list. It's gotten bad enough that we've started taking guard shifts. Only one of us sleeps. I try to take as many as I can, but Manfred's staying right up with me. He wants to pull his weight, but I can see him flagging. I'm younger and I can afford to spend more time awake. I try to get up early and I push myself as far as I can stretch. It's for the best, anyway. When I'm exhausted, I don't dream as much. Or at least I don't remember my dreams as much. The dreams aren't kind to me. Slow deaths. Pain. I don't know how realistic they are. I've never been cut to bits. But, if it's anything like what my brain's coming up with, I don't want it. At all.
I want to get out of here, but I know I shouldn't. So far, the walls have kept me safe. So far.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 10MANFRED
ENTRY 004
DATE: 1/31/2074
I made it out alive. In honor of David's memory, I feel that I must record the events here, though I know that I will never forget what I have seen. I only wish that I could have recovered the body. But there was not much left for me to bury, in the end. I have taken his medallion, only to keep it away from the scavengers and murderers.
I had to sit here and watch David collapse into himself. I realize that it is pleasant, compared to his eventual fate, but I still would not wish to relive it. Whoever his attackers were, they were horribly clever. They drove him mad, mad enough to wish to leave the house. I did what I could to stop him, but all I had were my words. Again, my body fails me, and again I am reminded how unfit I am to play this game.
When he left, I dared not follow. There was little I could do. I went as far as the front porch, far enough out that I could attempt to fend off anyone who tried to attack. I didn't relish the thought of unleashing lightning on another living being, but David was a pure soul. No one here deserves to die, but I think him, least of all. I don't know the others forced into here, but David was purely good.
It was quick. In the dark, I hardly saw the movement. Only in hindsight do I remember it clearly. By the time I saw it, it was too late. The dark figure was on David. I saw a flash of light burst through David's back. It took me a moment before I realized that it was something more than simple light, that it had broken all the way through his body and fell to the ground in. The grass flared where the light fell to the ground, then sputtered out.
I am ashamed to write it here, but I allowed my fear to overcome my judgment. I ran back inside, flicked off the lights, and locked the door. A stupid, panicked move, turning off the lights. But they didn't notice the change and didn't notice me, as best I can tell. Otherwise, I would likely have died before ever typing this journal.
I watched through the window. I could not see much, but I caught a few more things by the dim light of the burning gras
s. More flashes of light to let me see more parts of David's body separating. It was a man, judging by the shape, although I could be wrong. He was a sadist, though. He kept blowing David apart, long after he had died.
A woman came up a short time after the man stopped. They talked for a few minutes and she bent down to examine David's body. I can only think she was looking for the medallion. Luckily, it was not there. It flew with his head and disappeared in the dark. I am thankful that they were unable to get it. I hardly think that they need more power.
Now, I am alone. These days shall be difficult for me. I only hope that I can make it through in one piece. But if not, I hardly think it would come as a surprise, to myself or anyone else.
ENTRY END
TO Marta Evenstad
FROM: Niels Evenstad
SUBJECT: Media Coverage
SENT: 2/2/2074 AT 12:02 p.m. EST
Brother, Sister.
I wanted to keep you abreast of the progress, as you two hold the greatest interest in this endeavor. I've spoken with Stian, and he's agreed to provide favorable coverage of the coming events in The Cruise. If we can win public opinion through the news, what we plan to do will be much simpler, when it comes time.
Niels Evenstad
Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media
Mrs. Lopez,
In accordance with the contract signed by your brother David Mae for participation in 'The Park,' Evenstad Media is obligated to pay the expenses for the beneficiaries named therein, in the event of Mr. Mae's death.