"I don't trust it." Says Katie as she types away vigorously on her laptop.
Katie, now in her senior year of high-school, is already an excellent hacker. She's spent the afternoon trying like Hell to crack into the mainframe of the new show to see what's happening to her brother and his friends. All she can manage to find is an empty slaughterhouse with poorly arranged camera equipment and stunt dummies left abandoned in brightly lit halls.
Her friend, a curly headed boy named Dice, sits across from her on the big red couch. She's over on a matching swivel chair with the bright lights of her laptop illuminating her face. He's been hanging out with her since Kendall and the others left this afternoon for the show. She checks over the letter and the email Kendall had forwarded to her for the fifth time.
"This doesn't make any sense. They should be here." Her phone comes out of her pocket with an ease and she presses it to her ear.
Dice is a kind fellow with pale skin, dark jew curls, and the style of a door-to-door salesman. He's an eighteen year old con-artist who attempted, and failed, a few years ago to sell Katie Taylor Lautener's boxer shorts. She had no use for such an item and spent ten minutes standing in the doorway insulting him for the way he looks, thinks, and how short he is, before she invited him in for tea.
Now they're inseparable.
She's a beautiful genius with long red hair like her mother, thick stoic glasses that make her studious eyes look four times bigger than they actually are, and a tall slender body that she covers with sunshine yellow blouses and white leggings. She's got a glare that can knock out a catholic nun and the fasted code cracking skills this side of the Hollywood sign.
If anyone can hack the Hellevator live recording it's her. Only there's no one here where she's pinned. This screen display she has is just a hollow set for a show that isn't going to be making any scenes today. So she's calling the only person she knows who can vouch for her; the one person who rejected the offer.
Logan Mitchell. Originally it was supposed to be the four boys who did the show. That was all detailed in the original email sent out several months ago. However, after much deliberation, weeks of struggle, and an eventual settlement, Logan's internship was no longer in trouble and someone got to replace him on the show. Camille, his longtime girlfriend, really seemed to fit the bill. They needed a girl to balance things out even if Carlos is gay as Willy Wonka.
There's a couple rings and then finally his voice comes through the phone, "Katie, what is it? I'm about to scrub into a double septaloptomy with Dr. Bailey."
"I can't find them." She says.
He sighs, "What are you talking about."
"Kendall. The others. I've been trying for hours to wire into the location and get a visual but they're not here." She sounds almost frightened.
There's a sound coming from the other side and Logan shifts the phone from one ear to the other, "Firstly, you shouldn't be invading on their privacy like that. Secondly, are you sure you're looking in the right place? I'm sure their fine Katie."
"The address on this email Kendall got say (**********) and all I can find at that location is props and stage equipment." She's looking over the email again just to make sure she got it right.
He pauses for a moment as if to think, "We got a text. I was included in the mass group text in case I changed my mind. It had the address on it but the one you just gave me doesn't sound right. I'm not condoining what you're doing but just to make sure they're all right I'm going to send you a screenshot."
She gets the message and the sheer determination that floods her eyes startles Dice ever so slightly. He continues to sit there, leaned over his knees with folded hands watching her work. It's beautiful to him, the things she can do.
"I've got to go Katie. I have to scrub." Logan says his goodbyes and then they both hang up.
Then Katie finishes typing in the code. It opens on the inside of an elevator where a boy in a purple turtleneck sits alone on the ground while her brother and Camille stand at attention facing the only monitor in the room. She's found it. Only, this address isn't a real address. It's only accessible via a web-page on the dark web. The encryption on it alone required a strong protection app that she had to illegally download.
Dice comes up beside her. The two of them sit together on the red chair and watch as the latest episode of Helevator continues...
The twins are unveiling the next challenge with their strange back and forth way of talking where they finish one another's sentences and laugh at morbidly ironic things.
Jen: Illusions. Character tropes. Trauma. Every big name director has a secret. Every Hollywood actor has made difficult decisions to get to where they are.
Sylvia: From Victor Salva to Dan Schnieder Hollywood is overrun with freaks.
Images flash up on the screen of child actors and actresses in situations they shouldn't be in. Pictures no one should have access too. From the Cosby kids, to the actors on the set of Jeepers Creepers 2, and even a few Disney Channel stars, all of these black and white, or eerily damaged photographs could land their possessor several years in federal prison.
Sylvia continues: In 2001 Director Salva released a beautiful nightmare about a monster who comes alive once every twenty third spring and gets to eat for twenty three days. Known, of course, for it's tragic ending where the main character doesn't survive. In 2003 he released it's sequel which some could argue was ultimately better for it's cast pushed the boundaries of what people had seen up to that point on the screen.
Jen: Only underneath the surface something even darker than a monster who eats people was lurking.
A quick two second scene of the 'Creeper' licking the glass of the bus's emergency exit window flashes before those who are watching and all the hairs on the back of Kendall's neck stand straight up.
Sylvia: It was speculated that, like many directors, Salva hand selected each of his actors based on a predisposition. Theory states that he himself was the monster and that each of those kids on that bus represented a different part of his dark appetites.
Faces of actors from the 2003 film appear on screen of when they were young as well as where they are in life now. A few of them had grown up to be rather successful. Others have made a god awful mess of their lives. One or two were never heard of again.
Jen: Which one of you has what it takes to face off in a challenge we like to call, 'Typecast' in the hopes of winning twelve thousand dollars and a spot in the gauntlet.
Sylvia: Or be overrun by those who just couldn't keep a secret.
The two of them look at one another. Carlos is out, he's already beat his challenge. So, it has to be one of them.
"Do you want me to take this one?" Asks Kendall, "It seems pretty dark."
She shakes her head with all of her beautiful black curls and wipes her sweaty hands off on her simple blue dress, "No. This one feels personal. I think I should take it."
POP!
The hidden drawer in the wall opens again and inside is a blind fold. Her delicate fingers run over the thick pink fabric and a memory she doesn't want threatens to invade her. She looks back at Kendall with fear in her eyes.
He tells her, "We are right here. You can do this. It's just a game."
"It's just a game." She repeats.
The twins speak out through the loud speakers in unison, "CAMILLE! PUT ON THE BLINDFOLD AND GET OUT OF THE HELEVATOR!"
She jumps with a little squeak and the audience back home isn't laughing. This is wrong. It feels wrong. It looks wrong.
Still, the elevator doors are being pushed open by Carlos and Kendall is gently tying the blind fold around Camille's face. They remind her of the walkie-talkie, insist she make it her objective to get to the challenge, and listen when they talk to her. There she stands in the single spot of light out in the corridor surrounded by darkness. The shaking in her knees refuses to stop but she clings to the radio as the elevator shuts behind her. The metal clicks into metal in her ears and she knows she's alone with only an audience to watch her suffering.