Anger refused to make eye contact with the Grinch as he led her through the Subconscious. Not after that stunt he had pulled with the wolf. She didn't trust him, and doubted she ever would. Sarah had been in second grade when the Grinch had entered the Subconscious, but he hadn't left since. He obviously knew the place well, guiding Anger through thickets of tall, thin, leafless trees, around rusted, abandoned bicycles, past enormous hens and roosters. All around her, she heard noises - screams, mostly, and howls. Of course, the clucking of those infernal birds. Evil laughter, straight out of "Be Prepared". And although Anger had gotten used to the rotten-egg odor surrounding her, it was still impossible to ignore.
"Here we are."
Anger stopped short, gazing up at the building before her. At first glance, a hotel, but Anger knew better. The burn marks near the top of the front wing, the crooked, flickering letters, the ominous thunderclaps - these told all. This was none other than the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror.
"I suppose we're going in?" she asked calmly, masking her pounding heart.
The Grinch grinned again, a bug or two scrambling over his rotting teeth. "Naturally. It's been a while since you were down here, hasn't it?"
"I'm not talking to you," Anger growled as she stepped toward the crooked front doors of the Tower. The inside was wrapped in thick layers of cobwebs and dust over such ordinary objects as cards, suitcases, and dolls. Disgust would flip her lid here, Anger thought with an inward chuckle.
"Mr. Grinch, you're back earlier than expected." Anger turned to take a look at the speaker, who sat at the long desk in front of the elevators. She reminded her of Joy, except for her prim, proper outfit, longish black hair, darker yellow particles, and the longing look in her big blue eyes.
"She was more cooperative than we anticipated," the Grinch responded.
Anger snapped, "I'm right here, y'know!"
The Grinch ignored her and continued, "Tell Terror we'll be on our way up."
"Yes, sir."
The Grinch ushered Anger through a door into an equally dusty and cobwebby library, and from there into the boiler room. Orbs and pipes hissed with steam as the two made their way along grated paths. Soon enough, the rusty elevator doors loomed before them.
"Aren't the stairs an option?" Anger asked.
The Grinch shook his head. "The stairs are for authorized personnel only. Besides, we're going straight to the top." As if on cue, the doors creaked open, revealing a small, dimly lit room filled with boxes. The Grinch gestured for Anger to enter, which she did with a roll of her eyes. After he enters, the doors closed, and the elevator began to ascend.
Anger knew exactly what to expect, but wanted some form of protection. There didn't seem to be any form of restraint. The Grinch simply sat on top of a box.
Wait... the boxes...
Anger slipped into an open box and secured the lid from the inside - quite a task, but she completed it. There, in total darkness, she waited for the event that gave the Tower its nickname.
It happened before she could blink.
A deafening boom. A flash of heat.
Then, the drop.
Safe in her box, Anger could feel herself being pummeled from wall to wall. She heard the clattering of the other boxes, but, oddly enough, no sound from the Grinch. Surprise, she thought as she bounced around. He's probably used to this.
Eventually, the pounding and motion stopped. The lid of the box came off, and Anger was again making eye contact with the Grinch. "Enjoy your ride?" he sneered.
"Don't talk to me," Anger groaned, clambering out of the box and out of the elevator. She was surprised to be gazing upon a modern-looking, clean hotel hallway. The Grinch started heading down the hall. Anger, curious as to what this was all about, followed in his furry footsteps.
Another pair of double doors stood at the end of the hallway. Just as Anger and the Grinch approached, two figures exited through the doors. One, a thin, skeletal man, was impeccably dressed in a pinstripe tux, while the other, clearly human, had the clothing and facial expressions of a clear madman. The second stalked down the hall toward the elevator, but the first turned to the Grinch.
"Terror says she wants this discussion to be as private as possible," said the skeleton. "She'll send for you when they're done."
"Thank you, Jack," replied the Grinch. As the skeleton - Jack, apparently, likely Skellington - turned on his heel, the Grinch nudged open the door. "You heard him," he told Anger.
Anger groaned, but entered. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light - this place was even dimmer than the elevator. When she could see again, Anger noticed a figure sitting behind an office desk. She looked an awful lot like Fear, but, again, was dressed nicer, had black hair, darker particles, and an expression that did not match whatever her name was.
"Welcome to the Subconscious, Anger," she said in a smooth, silky voice. "Please, have a seat." She gestured to a chair facing the desk. Anger plonked herself down in the chair and crossed her arms.
"I take it you've gotten yourself into a bit of trouble in Headquarters, hmm?" She pressed her fingers together.
Anger leaned forward. "Who are you and why am I here?" she demanded.
"Getting straight to the point, I see," said the figure with the hint of a smile. "An excellent quality. I take it you have many such questions, but we don't have time to answer them all right now. For the moment, you may call me Terror. And you're here because I require your assistance."
Anger leaned back into her chair, satisfied. Terror continued. "I need you to get me into Headquarters."
"And why would I do that?"
Terror's smiled slowly spread. "Because I can offer you what your so-called friends cannot."
"Look, if this is about money, I don't need any - "
"I'm not talking about money. I'm talking about power."
Anger's eyes widened. Terror nodded and continued, "You spend the least amount of time at the console of any of the emotions, Logic included. I know you try to grasp as much time as you can - to no avail. They continually push you away, keeping your girl subservient and subordinate. Is this true?"
Anger nodded.
"Without you, how is poor Sarah going to know when her circumstances are unfair? When others tell her. She'll be a helpless pawn, unable to control her own destiny."
"But what can you do to change that?"
Terror left her seat and began to pace. "I have plans for the Mind, Anger. Plans that have been years in the making. The only thing standing in my way is Headquarters and the irrelevant hierarchy the emotions have set up for themselves. And once those plans have been set into motion, you will be at my side."
"Me?"
"Yes, you. I'm going to need someone who knows Sarah closely, what makes her tick, what parts of the Mind are important to her. The other emotions would never agree to this, I know that. So if you agree to help me, I'll give you the power they've been denying you. You'll have the console all to yourself. How does that sound?"
Anger needed no prompting. "I'm in."
"I knew I could count on you," smiled Terror as the door opened and a darker version of Anger walked in. "You wanted to see me?" said the newcomer.
Terror's eyebrows raised. "Perfect timing. Anger, this is Rage, your Extreme counterpart. Here's what I need you to do..."
Thunder boomed outside the Tower.