Subnormal

Still hunched over the dead body inside the small offshoot room, Frankie drew Frank’s gun. There were no doors here- no other entrances, or objects to take advantage of. The artificial set dressing was just that- set dressing. The walls were papered, but the floor was barren, and the only possible route of escape she could see was a tiny vent way up at the top of the wall. Fearing for her safety, it was the first thing she ran to before even trying the door.

Rushing through the darkness, Katie was almost just as separated from the group as Frankie was- calling out Mary’s name, she had chosen quite likely the worst possible time to worry about someone she ever had. Not seeing it that way herself, she didn’t halt in searching for the woman, even when her calls yielded no response.

Despite her better interests, even Katie started to suspect her fellow guest. Mary was odd, but would she really just wander off like that? Was she the murderer, or in cahoots with them? Her heartbeat raced. Was she in danger right now? If the lights shut off again… would she die?

If she were to die…

She’d have to wake up from her dream.

The tiny, scared girl froze in place.

She could feel herself in the middle of the two- her sister and the rest of the group, waiting by the door, probably not knowing where she was. Mary, out in the darkness, hopefully somewhere to be found.

Even if she turned around now, she'd still have to run through more darkness. And if that happened… just how much of a risk would it be?

It was suddenly becoming very very hard for Katie to breathe.

She curled up into a ball and held her legs, both wanting to look all around her vigilantly and stare straight at the ground for the rest of eternity. Just picking this one ride… just deciding to go in with the driver she’d called over… was that going to be what led to the end of everything she wanted to do?

But as she forced herself to glance to the left, she saw one of the ride’s displays- just like what they were looking for, there was a door there. Next to a fake spooky dining table and moving projections of ghostly entities, there was an open door leading to a room so tiny that no murderer could possibly be inside it.

As death surrounded her, she ran straight into the doorway and shut herself in as fast as she could.

Meanwhile, just outside the murder room, Frank and Conrad would’ve looked just as surprised as Frankie if she could see them.

“What the- d-did you do that?!” Conrad jumped a few seconds after the slam of the door, his heartbeat catching up to him while Frank was only a few more mental seconds ahead of processing the sudden situation, not all that much better than his civilian counterpart. Quick to defend himself, he put his hand where his gun would normally be out of instinct before arguing his innocence.

“I didn’t move an inch! What the hell’s going on?”

“It must be remote- a remote door, like the one in the lobby…” Conrad panicked, looking around for whoever it was who could be responsible for this turn of events. Finally the idiots caught up to the fact that not only was “Sara” locked up, but the other two ladies had disappeared as well.

“Where are the other two?”

While Conrad was trying to open the seemingly locked door, a girlish cry shot out from the far-out darkness.

“FRANKIE!”

“HELP ME, FRANKIE!”

Panting, Frank abandoned his post by the door without thinking. Conrad’s panic shot up even further as the cop left him in the dust.

“H-HEY! Frank? Frank, what are you doing?!”

“Keep your eyes on that damn door!” The determined officer called back at him mid-sprint. “The girl needs my help!”

Frank too left into the shadows, gone from Conrad’s view as he found himself effectively alone.

In his state of despair, the young man’s mind began latching onto inconsequential events from his day.

He ate a cheap breakfast in the car. He was feeling more awful than usual, and then those two girls asked him for a ride.

He felt like, as worthless as he was, he probably made them both very uncomfortable- but they were very bright young girls. Even though one didn’t seem especially happy, they both had a good humour to them, and something about the two made Conrad feel like he didn’t have anything to worry about after all. They were smart, nice, a tad strange, and…

And they called each other Frankie and Katie.

The whole car ride, “Sara” was being called “Frankie.” He didn’t question it too much when she gave a different name to the cop, but he really should’ve. He cursed at himself for a number of reasons, wriggling his fingers through his increasingly unkempt hair. Was Frankie the murderer? Was her sister in on it, too? That bastard Frank thought the girl was calling for him, like some gross pet name. Was Frank in danger? Was he? It was Frank himself the murderer, and concocted this whole situation in which now seemingly every single one of them had become separated?

Or maybe it was just Mary behind all this?

Conrad fell to his butt and cradled his head. He wished he’d just taken those girls to Kidneyland and slept in the car like usual.

Suddenly, a vent on the wall behind him fell to the ground. Looking up, he watched as a red-faced girl painfully squeezed her body out of it, exasperated as she collapsed to the ground. Her skin stung and the wound on her stomach still burned.

“Where’s… Katie…”

“Huh?” Conrad shivered, unable to parse his own thoughts.

“WHERE IS MY SISTER?” Frankie yelled into his face, grabbing him by the collar, furiously shaking the driver’s weak form. All he could do was point off in the direction Frank had ran.

Conrad felt awful as he found himself left alone again.

Because before he could say anything, she ran that way, too.