Disclaimer: I do not own TDI.

This takes place somewhere between the Final Ten and the last episode.

Oh, and Duncan may have a few physical characteristics altered.

Key

Confession Cam

Thought

Chris' narration

All Confession Cams recorded were done so after the following event unless otherwise stated or referenced.

Trent turned in his bed as the rain slammed onto the cabin roof.

"Man..."

The storm outside didn't let up.

... plop...

"Oh, great." Trent wiped the raindrop off of his cheek and sat up in bed.

He heard a shuffling in another bunk before a kerosene lamp lit up, dimly illuminating the cabin with a soft orange glow.

"Yo, man, what's the problem?" DJ slurred from his bed, rubbing his eyes.

"Rain."

"It's just water."

"Yeah, I know, but... dude, just get me a bucket."

"What?"

"A bucket."

DJ reluctantly got up from the bed and retrieved a medium-sized pail from the bathroom the campers used in case any of Chef Hatchet's cooking came up last minute.

Trent heard the clunking of the metal on the floor and picked up the pail before placing it where the raindrop landed on the bed and moving to another bunk (He had many to choose from since the other Bass were voted off).

"Just go to sleep, a'ight?"

"Yeah, fine."

DJ collapsed into his bunk as Trent yanked the covers from between the mattress and bedspread before attempting to place himself in the bed.

Trent's exhuastion prevented him from noticing a shadow prance along the wall.

As he lowered himself into the bunk, the ambiguity could be seen raising it arms over his head, ready to pounce.

"...ZZzzZzzZ..."

Trent opened his eyes just in time to see... nothing there.

He shrugged and turned around on his stomach, trying to fall asleep again.

...CRSSHH!

Trent bolted out of the bed. He saw a struggle between a shadow and the heap laying in Duncan's bunk (most likely Duncan).

He turned around and made out a vision of the other guys being attacked in the bunks, hearing Geoff's cries of "What the ...?!"

Raising his own arms in defense, Trent attempted to ward off anything coming his way.

He barely cried out before someone clapped their arm around his mouth and silently but jerkily dragged him away.

Pitch black darkness blocked Owen's vision. Muffled cries as he was yanked along the ground did nothing to help matters.

What's going on? Is it breakfast already?

Suddenly he was thrown down to the ground, the light reaching his eyes shortly before his vision was blocked again by the quickly moving ground.

Owen attempted to sit himself straight up with difficulty due to his large build and ignored the dirt in his mouth (He'd had worse). Trent lay on his side, almost getting a clear view of his surroundings if his sight hadn't been obstructed by his long and unruly black hair.

Duncan listened to the faint carnival music in the background. Tufts of his light brown hair stuck out at odd angles from under his do-rag.

He looked around and spotted Geoff's confused and dumbstruck expression. Geoff's mouth hung open at the dilapidated, revolving carousel and fair booths surrounding himself and the other boys.

Duncan reached for the Swiss Army knife in his back pocket and proceeded to slice the rope around his wrists off.

DJ whimpered. He grimaced at the macabre circus booths, showcasing a select choice of human and animal body parts. Blood splattered all along the dried brown grass and booth walls. One stand was advertising chances to throw steak knives at a human carcus for even more horrific prizes.

"What is this? A circus?" Owen asked to anyone who would answer.

"No way, man. Ain't no circus ever looked like this before," DJ's shaky voice replied.

"Get a hold of yourself, man," Duncan retorted as he cut through the ropes. He picked himself off of the ground and walked over to DJ, helping slice off his ropes as well.

As Trent threw himself on his back and sat up, he had to stare at his environment before making sense of it.

Oh, real clever.

"Come on, Chris," he called out to nothing in particular, waiting for the host to appear somewhere. "We know you're out there."

"He's not coming out, dude," Duncan enlightened him as he cut DJ loose. The large boy proceeded to grab the grass tightly, refusing to be moved.

Duncan walked around and released the boys before inspecting the mannequin booth. Chipped porcelain puppets stared back absently, missing a few limbs and eyes.

As Duncan reached out to one with large black eyes in an old age Victorian little girl's skirt, DJ trembled behind him.

"Yo man, I don't think that's a good idea," warned the tall Jamaican teen.

"So what? It's not possessed or anything."

"Yeah, you say that now," Geoff said with his skater-boy accent. "Then it's probably gonna come at us with a meat cleaver or something!"

Duncan stared at them incredulously.

"Are you guys for real?" he inquired rhetorically, smacking Geoff upside the head.

Owen glanced around as his stomach rumbled.

Man, I hope there's food around here somewhere, the tubby boy thought with his stomach.

...sniff, sniff... could it be? The overpowering scent of grease and cholestorol tauntingly wafted through Owen's nostrils.

Hypnotized, the bulky blonde teen started walking automatically towards the source of the smell, relying on his nose alone.

"...I'm just saying, dude..."

"Look," Duncan snapped ferociously. "There's nothing to be afraid of. It's just Chris playing some stupid prank on us again."

"Uh, guys?" Trent interrupted. "Where's Owen?"

"Uh..." The other campers searched around, finding no trace of their teammate.

"Great!" DJ cried. "They already got him! We're next!"

"No, we're not!" Duncan argued. "And nobody's out to get us! Just calm down."

"Well, maybe we should take Owen's cue and split up," Trent suggested.

"Yeah, that sounds good," Duncan agreed, rubbing his stubble-covered chin.

"Uh, are you kidding?" Geoff asked, exasperated. "We don't know what's out here!"

"NOTHING!" Duncan screamed.

"I'll go with ya, man," DJ offered. Geoff cracked a relaxed smirk.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah; I'm not going out there by myself."

"...Gee, thanks."

"Well, I'm runnin' it solo," Duncan said. "See ya."

Trent and Duncan split up in different directions to investigate. DJ nervously gripped Geoff's shoulders, the latter glancing around shakily.

"Uh, where do you wanna go?" DJ asked.

"...Where do you wanna go?"

"I asked first."

"Um, over there, I guess." Geoff gestured over to the tent with a beaten, worn-out banner overhead reading, House of Mirrors.

"No way, man. That's screaming Freddy Krueger."

"Yeah, but are we just gonna stand around here in the open?"

"I will."

"...Okay."

There was a crash of thunder.

"AFTER YOU!!" DJ screamed as Geoff dashed into the funhouse.

"...Tch, meat cleaver. Idiots," Duncan mumbled to himself as he subconciously slipped into a tent, hiding from the cold rain.

Staring at the lightning in the distance, Duncan breathed silently.

Then he got the feeling he was being watched.

He slowly and cautiously turned around, grasping his knife for protection.

He was slightly startled at the contents of the tent; marionnettes hung from severed strings, their mouths dangling open. Dolls similar to the ones Duncan had spotted at the fair booth rested on shaky, antique tables. A French clown puppet lie closest to him, its faded eye make-up rendering Duncan slightly intimidated.

Millions of dolls, puppets, and otherwise inanimate figurines surrounded him, almost blocking his path.

...A doll-makers shop? Duncan shook his head, erasing the thought. Nah, it's just Chris.

But Duncan couldn't ignore the feeling that maybe the producers didn't have the funding for this.

Well, it got on the island somehow... This is the island, right?

Of course it is, Duncan argued with himself. But more questions chased the explanations he had conjured up in his head until it blew his mind completely.

Stop! Duncan yelled at himself, silencing the ghostly debaters in his mind.

Arming himself with the pocketknife, he slowly felt his way along the dark path to the back of the tent.

"Chris?" he called out, still reaching out to the darkness, knocking more dolls out of his way. "C'mon, man, I know you're out there."

He was met with nothing but the sound of wood against wood as the puppets crashed together.

Duncan gulped and continued into the unknown.

Trent rushed into the larger of all the tents, leaning over with his hands on his knees, catching his breath. He shook the water out of his hair and wiped the rain off of his face.

Tired and unaware of his surroundings, he attempted to climb up the side of a set of bleachers and sit down.

As he sat silently, he looked out at the carnival grounds through the heavy downpour.

Man, Gwen would be totally into this kind of thing, he thought to himself, smirking as he pictured the goth in his head.

He stared blankly at the empty bleacher seats behind him and turned his head. He observed the large, open ring which a stadium of stands surrounded. The primary color scheme of blue, yellow and red was typical of any three-ring circus.

He listened to his breath echo softly throughout the tent, barely audible through the rain and thunder.

Pretty soon Trent was shaking. Trembling at first, then full-out violently shivering.

Maybe he should have brought the other guys along...

And that's the conclusion for Chapter 1. Please leave your opinions or critiques. Thanks!

Happy Early Halloween!