The walk up from the mall to the amusement park is a kinda weird thing, until you figure out the way the two places work together, or until a friend tells ya, like one of mine did. First time I've ever been to this town, and I knew all there was to know about the park before even setting foot in it. People who wanna spend money can be persuaded to spend just that little bit more than they mighta done otherwise, and if you can throw in some kinda money-off thing to make it seem that much more of a good idea, so much the better. Of course, the fact that the mall's employees get a discount at the park and visey voicey doesn't hurt nothing neither. So they're onto a pretty good thing there, I reckon. Makes it a bit of a bitch to get back to town from the mall, though, cause you gotta take the path through the park whether you like it or not. They cage off most things, so's anyone can always get back home from late-night shopping, but there's still something kinda creepy about walking through the deserted park at night. Specially if you see those damn bunnies walkin round making sure no-one's messing with the rides or the cash tills. A six-foot pink bunny, who's stupid idea was that for a park mascot? Might as well have a six-foot black rat with satellite-dish ears and white gloves. Now there's a dumb idea... hope no-one else thinks of it.
Walking up took about half an hour. I think. My watch broke back in the woods not long after I crossed that damn river, so I think it took about half an hour. Maybe longer, time's... kinda weird here. In the fog, by myself, that wasn't a great trip, I can tell ya. The area around there is mostly trees and grass, and every so often a rustling of footsteps on dead leaves made me think I'd found the girl, but nothing was there when I looked. More nothing than you'd expect, really, like something had just hidden itself in plain sight. Or something. So it was a spooked and tired Nathan Crawley who turned up at the Lakside Amusement park main gates, hoping against hope not to see any damn pink bunnies. My wish was almost granted. Almost.
Laying on the floor were several monster bodies. A massive fleshy thing with 'arms' reaching down to its feet, a mashed up face with no eyes but a big mouth, and strangely human legs in some kind of apron. Devil dogs, too, I noticed, but not the ones that had chased me into the mall. I crouched down to look closer at the corpse. Definitely dead. Deader than the undead version I could imagine. Looked like someone had run a black lab dog through a circular saw (or, rather, other way round) then bandaged the body back up together, but left the head split open. The two halves seemed to have gotten themselves some nasty fangs, though, and I felt sorry for whoever they'd managed to chomp on before those bullet holes in the bandaging had finally put the monstrosity to rest. A nightmare, sure, but somehow not my nightmare.
I carried on walking, with the sensation that I wasn't walking alone. Not a fear of the dark, it was still daylight. Or daylight again. Or some damn thing, the mist was there and it weren't dark, you get the idea. The pink bunnies turned up as well. Dead and done for, these ones, with red stains around the mouth. Had they attacked my predecessor, too? Weird feeling, I was sure I was walking through someone else's nightmare. But, a part of the nightmare that was done with, like a toy store after closing, all the bits and gadgets are still there, still just about warm from being played with and entertaining not four hours ago, but with a definite 'curtain down' feel, like walking through Macbeth's castle just after the last battle's lost and won, and everyone's gone but the dead.
So I walked on through the finished nightmare, just a passing-through for me, and wondered why I hadn't taken the connecting tram up (special transit deal between the city authorities and the commercial places, can't let anything get in the way of little kids making their folks spend money on the latest street-walker Barbie or trying a new Robbie the Rabbit cookie). Probably wouldn't have worked, though, in a world of mad TVs and undead dogs, why the hell would a short tram built just for the short distance between the town and the mall work? Come to that, what the hell kinda fellow passengers might I have to deal with? Just as well I'd walked, I thought, as I passed the tram sitting rusty in its bay. I watched it for a bit, almost daring it to light up and start moving just to spook me. Nothing. I turned my back on it and headed on through the park. All the paths along the park were closed except for the central one Paul told me they always keep open to allow folks through. Midnight, three am? No problem, right this way. Right this way always takes you past the main attraction, Paul said, the horse carousel, each one handpainted and with its own name and history.
I was approaching that now, and as I did I thought it weird that he forgot to mention they'd painted the form of a little girl in a blue dress on it, or that people left wheelchairs there when they got bored. I half expected one or the other to move as I got closer, or disappear. All that happened, though, was that the wheelchair turned out to be all rusted to hell, like it had been there for years, and the painting of the girl was more like a burnt on shadow than anything else. The path beyond, now... the path beyond had disappeared somehow, and a door stood open, leading up a long passageway. I could just about see a blonde girl disappearing into the distance. Kate!
I lurched forward to follow, but saw as I did that a gate had opened to my left. An alternate route to follow, one that would get me the hell outta here quickly. I remembered the Dark Man's warning that I shouldn't follow the girl... something about the 'Mother of the God'. I hesitated, but not for long. Hell with that! I'd go where I wanted, for any reason I wanted. My life, my decisions.
I took a last look around the park, and stepped into the hallway. With that step, I ended a lifetime.
A/N - This'll be the last filler for some time, I promise. At least, I promise to do my utmost to make it so.