4:19:33
When I was a little kid, my parents took me to the fairground a few times. My sister would grudgingly take me on some of the rides, like the Ferris wheel or the carousel. I remember the intoxicating mix of excitement and fear as we climbed higher and higher on the Ferris wheel, the entire world spreading out beneath us. The carousel was always a riot of color and motion, with its prancing horses and cheerful music.
The air would be thick with the scent of cotton candy and popcorn, mingling with the ozone smell of the rides’ machinery. Laughter and screams of delight would echo all around, punctuated by the dings and whistles of game booths. At night, the fairground would transform into a wonderland of lights, each ride outlined in dazzling neon, creating a magical atmosphere that seemed to exist outside of normal time and space.
But this... this was like someone had taken those cherished memories and fed them through a meat grinder, then reassembled them in the most horrifying way possible.
The Ferris wheel here creaked and groaned, its carriages swaying in a non-existent breeze. Instead of offering a view of a sun-drenched world, it seemed to promise a one-way trip into the crimson abyss above. The carousel’s horses wore expressions of abject terror, their painted eyes wide and mouths frozen in silent screams. As it rotated slowly, I could have sworn I heard the faint sound of weeping.
The scents in the air were all wrong—instead of sweet treats, I smelled decay and something metallic that might have been blood. The cheerful sounds of my childhood memories were replaced by an unsettling silence, occasionally broken by distant, echoing screams that sounded far too real for comfort.
Game booths lined the pathway, their once-colorful awnings now tattered and stained. The stuffed animal prizes hung limply, their button eyes seeming to follow me as I passed. One booth, labeled TEST YOUR STRENGTH featured a hammer that looked suspiciously like a femur, and a bell at the top that resembled a human skull.
As I ventured deeper into this nightmare version of a fairground, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Something was watching me, I was sure of it. The shadows seemed to move of their own accord, and more than once I spun around, certain I’d seen something dart just out of sight.
Suddenly, a sound like dozens of tiny feet pattering on the ground caught my attention. From behind a dilapidated popcorn stand emerged the most surreal sight yet—a group of stuffed animals, moving of their own accord. These weren’t the cuddly toys of my childhood, though. Their fur was matted and stained, their stitching unraveling in places to reveal stuffing that looked disturbingly like entrails.
Leading this macabre parade was a small, blue furry creature that looked like it had escaped from a demented version of Sesame Street. Its big googly eyes darted around manically, and its mouth was filled with needle-sharp teeth.
The plush army spread out, forming a semicircle around me. They snarled and growled, sounding more like rabid dogs than stuffed toys. I tensed, ready for a fight, wondering if this is what finally drove me over the edge into madness.
The blue creature stepped forward, its crazy eyes fixed on me. Then, in a voice that sounded like it had gargled with broken glass and nightmares, it spoke: “Well, looks here, gang. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a new playmate. What do you say we show him how we have fun in Limbo’s Labyrinth of Laughs?”
“Yeah,” said a diminutive bunny plush. “We’ll show him a real good time.”
“A bloody one!” another plush piped up, some deranged giraffe thing.
“Seriously?” I said, staring at them all. “I don’t have time for this shit.” As I went to walk off, the gang of plushies followed me. Annoyed, I spun around and growled at them. “Piss off before I boot you all into next week! Seriously, what the hell are y’all gonna do anyway? You’re plushies!”
As soon as the words left my mouth, the plushies launched themselves at me with a ferocity that belied their cuddly appearance. They came at me like a wave of furry, nightmarish shrapnel, their little claws and teeth surprisingly sharp.
“Get the sorry son of a bitch!” the blue leader cackled from a safe distance. “Show him what stuffing is made of!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I growled, swatting at the airborne toys. A teddy bear latched onto my arm, its button eyes gleaming with malice as it sank its teeth into my flesh. “Ow! You little shit!”
I shook my arm violently, dislodging the bear and sending it flying. But there were more. A rabbit with floppy ears tried to garrote me with a piece of string, while a one-eyed giraffe kept headbutting my knee.
Anger bubbled up inside me, fueled by the knowledge that every second I wasted here was a second closer to missing the Trial deadline. “That’s it,” I snarled. “Playtime’s over!”
I grabbed a particularly vicious-looking cat plushie by its tail and swung it like a furry flail, knocking several of its companions away. Then, channeling my inner soccer star, I started punting the stuffed menaces across the fairground.
A panda sailed over the carousel, its plaintive “Nooooo!” fading as it disappeared into the distance. The giraffe followed, its long neck wrapping around a tentpole as it went flying.
“Anyone else want to go for a ride?” I shouted, kicking a cluster of smaller toys so hard they vanished into the crimson fog overhead.
The blue leader’s maniacal grin faltered as he watched his army being decimated. “Retreat!” he squeaked, his bravado evaporating. “Tactical withdrawal!”
As the remaining plushies scampered away, I turned to the blue creature, my eyes narrowing. “Now listen here, you discount Muppet reject. I’m on a tight schedule, and I don’t have time for your demented Toy Story bullshit. So unless you want to see what the inside of a cotton candy machine looks like, you’ll back off. Got it?”
The creature gulped audibly, nodding its oversized head. “We were just bored, to be honest. We don’t get many players coming through here. Most people don’t come in once they see it.”
“Yeah, well, I’m here looking for someone,” I said. “A Chinese girl. Have you seen her? I know she’s in here somewhere.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? What the hell does that mean? Have you seen her?”
The blue plushie nodded. “I seen her.”
Jesus. Thank Christ.
“Where is she?”
“You’re girlfriend is done for, kid. I suggest you move on and head to your Trial location before it’s too late.”
“Done for?” I stared at it. “What the fuck does that mean? Is she—”
“Dead? If she ain’t dead yet, she soon will be.”
I stomped forward and picked the monster plushie up, gripping it tightly as I held the thing in front of my face. “Listen to me you useless bag of stuffing. Tell me where my fucking friend is, or I swear to God, I will fucking burn you alive.” I pulled the lighter out of my inventory—a dull Zippo—and struck a flame, holding it close to the monster plushie.
“Alright, alright!” the plushie screamed. “Jesus, psychotic much? Threatening to burn a poor defenseless plushie alive? What the hell is wrong with you, buddy?”
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“I’m just trying to find my friend,” I said, closing the zippo. “I figured she was in danger, and you just confirmed it. So tell me what you know.”
“Sure, sure, but under one condition.”
Jesus, I’m negotiating with a damn talking plushie now. “What condition?” I bit out.
“Put me down.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s not the condition. Put me down and I’ll tell you.”
“You’re testing my patience here.” I put the creature down and stared at it. “Hurry up.”
“Look,” the monster plushie said, as some of his little gang watched from the shadows, probably too afraid to approach me now, “I been stuck in this damn fairground for longer than you can imagine. You see, kid, I used to be a player like you. But then I failed the Trials and my soul got repurposed. That’s how I ended up as this here… plushie.”
“My heart bleeds for you. Just tell me where my friend is.”
“Your friend, huh? You sure about that? I mean, you’ve only been in the Trials for like five minutes. How could you have made friends in that time? You’re gonna scupper your chances here, kid, for someone you hardly even know. You sure it’s worth it?”
I sighed, resisting the urge to kick the monster plushie into oblivion. “I wouldn’t have come in here if I didn’t want to help, would I?”
“No, I guess not.”
“So where the hell is she?”
“I’ll tell you, but first, the condition. You gotta take me with you if you manage to leave this fairground in one piece.”
“What? Why would I do that?”
“Because you need someone who’s been through it, someone who can guide you through the Trials, keep you right and such. If you adopt me as a pet—”
“A pet? Plushies aren’t pets.”
“In this place, plushies have the pet class, I’ll have you know. Lucky for me.”
“No,” I said. “I don’t need any pets. I’ll find my friend myself.”
Turning, I walked away from the little monster, who of course followed after me. “You’ve no idea what you’re walking into, kid. You’re gonna get yourself killed.”
“Yeah? What’s new?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t need any pets. I’ll find my friend myself. And plushies aren’t pets.”
“In this place, they are.”
“Whatever. I don’t need a pet.”
Turning, I walked away from the little monster, who of course followed after me. “You’ve no idea what you’re walking into, kid. You’re gonna get yourself killed.”
“Yeah? What’s new?”
“Jesus, you’re a stubborn asshole. Anyone ever tell you that?”
Ignoring the persistent little shit, I carried on walking. Checking my map, I saw I was almost on top of Annalise now, which meant she was close. Up ahead was the big top, a massive structure that loomed ominously against the blood-red sky. It was a twisted parody of a circus tent, its once-vibrant stripes now faded to sickly shades of rust and bone. The fabric seemed to writhe and pulse as if alive, and ghostly shadows danced across its surface. The entrance was a gaping maw of tattered curtains, promising untold horrors within.
To the left of the big top stood a funhouse, its mirrors cracked and distorted, reflecting nightmarish versions of reality. The clown face adorning its entrance wore a sinister grin, its eyes following visitors as they passed. From inside, I swear I saw a shadowy figure staring out at me, but the figure soon retreated, making me wonder if it had even been there at all.
On the right was a decrepit Tunnel of Love, its heart-shaped entrance now resembling a broken, jagged wound. Stagnant, dark water flowed from its exit, carrying with it the occasional stuffed animal or, more disturbingly, what looked like human remains.
Behind the big top, barely visible, was a maze of rusty shipping containers, stacked haphazardly like a giant’s abandoned building blocks. Faint screams and manic laughter echoed from within its confines.
Each location promised its own brand of terror, and Annalise could be in any of them. The thought of her trapped in one of them made my blood run cold. I steeled myself, knowing I’d have to search them all if necessary.
“You could waste a lot of time searching those places,” the blue plushie said. “Or I could just tell you where she is.”
“Annalise!” I shouted. “Annalise, it’s Kade! Where are you?” I waited for a moment, but heard no reply. Shit. I turned to the plushie again. “Alright, tell me where she is, and I might consider taking you with me.”
“Not good enough, kiddo,” the plushie said. “I’ll need a cast iron guarantee.”
“Seriously? For fuck’s sake.” I checked the countdown to the Trial.
4:01:47
Anxiety racked my guts when I watched the counter go down, knowing that the more it went down, the slimmer my chances became of making it to the Trial on time.
“Alright,” I finally said to the plushie. “You win. I’ll take you with me. Just tell me where my friend is.”
A shit-eating grin spread across the plushie’s small face. “Fucking A, kid. Now we’re sucking diesel.” Without my permission, he somehow managed to hop up onto my shoulder, sitting there like some blue devil whose job it was to whisper terrible advice into my ear and lead me further into damnation.
“Name’s Snuggles,” he said, his voice a gravelly rasp that sounded about as cuddly as sandpaper. “And before you ask, no, I didn’t pick it. Some sicko with a twisted sense of humor did.”
I tried to shake him off, but he dug his little claws into my jacket, hanging on like a demented parrot. “Get off me, you little—”
“Nu-uh,” Snuggles interrupted. “You’re gonna need a guide in this funhouse of fuckery, and lucky you, I’m volunteering. Plus, I know things. Things about your girl.”
That stopped me cold. “Annalise? What do you know about her?”
Snuggles’ grin widened, showing far too many teeth for comfort. “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know? Let’s just say, if you want to find her in one piece, you’re gonna want old Snuggles on your team.”
I groaned, realizing I was probably going to regret this. “Fine. But any funny business, and I’ll use you as a kickball. Got it?”
“Crystal clear, boss,” Snuggles cackled. “Now, before we go any further, you’re gonna need to know what kind of trouble your girl is in, and what she’s got herself into.”
“I doubt Annalise got herself into anything, but okay. Who took her? Some troll creature or something?”
“You wish, boss.” He paused. “What’s you name again? Kade, did I hear you say? I think it’s best if we get on friendly terms from here on in, as we’re going to be traveling companions and all.”
“Yes, my name is Kade. Who took, Annalise?”
“The Cotton Candy Killer took Annalise, that’s who.”
I stopped and stared at him as he sat on my shoulder. “Is this a joke? Because if this is a—”
“No joke,” Snuggles said. “Whataya take me for? We’re partners now, ain’t we? And partners don’t—”
“I never said we were partners.”
“Once you make me your pet, we will be. Now, do you wanna hear about the psycho who took Annalise or not?”
“Fine,” I sighed. “Who is he?”
“His real name is Herbert Merrick, but he always told everybody his name was Herbie Floss,” Snuggles explained, his voice lowered as if he were afraid this Floss character would hear him somehow. “Herbie was a cotton candy vendor back in the fifties. You know, all ‘gee whiz’ and ‘golly gosh’ on the outside, but inside? Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, if you catch my drift.”
Snuggles tugged at his ear nervously, his button eyes darting around. “Story goes, he had this picture-perfect life—wife, kids, white picket fence, the whole shebang. But it was all a cover, see? Guy was wound tighter than a two-dollar watch.”
The blue plushie leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “One day, he just... snapped. Turned his cotton candy machine into something straight outta your worst nightmares. Started using it on folks at the fair. By the time they caught him, he’d left a trail of sugary corpses across three states.”
Snuggles shuddered visibly. “That machine of his? It’s a real piece of work. It doesn’t just spin sugar around you like normal cotton candy. Nah, that’d be too easy. This thing? It liquefies you, bit by bit. Starts with your skin, then works its way in. Melts flesh, blood, even bone, mixing it all up with molten sugar.”
He gestured with his stubby arms, mimicking a spinning motion. “All the while, it’s spinning you, faster and faster. You’re alive through most of it, feeling every excruciating second as you’re turned into this... this human cotton candy. By the end, you’re just this twisted mass of sugar and meat, still twitching.”
I felt my stomach turn, but Snuggles wasn’t done. His button eyes seemed to glint with morbid fascination. “But here’s the real kicker, kid. Herbie? He doesn’t just kill ‘em. He eats ‘em. Says it’s the ultimate cotton candy experience. Can you believe that sick fuck? He’ll sit there, nibbling away at what used to be a person, giggling like it’s the best treat he’s ever had.”
Snuggles shuddered, a movement that felt bizarre coming from a stuffed toy. “They fried him in ’59, but that wasn’t the end. Oh no, not for old Herbie. He ended up here, in Infernum, and boy oh boy, did he take to it like a duck to water. The assholes who run this shitshow? They liked old Herbie’s style so much, they forfeited him from the Trials so they could keep him here as his own special kind of NPC. The Cotton Candy Killer, they call him now. He’s been here so long, he’s practically part of the furniture.”
It occurred to me, at that point, that Herbie Floss was alive and doing his thing on Earth over 160 years ago. God knows how long he’d been in Infernum. The ones who run this place probably couldn’t wait to get the guy in here and running around. It made me wonder what other sickos and psychos from Earth I would run into in Infernum. That wasn’t something I wanted to think about right now.
Snuggles gripped my shoulder tighter. “If your girl’s with Floss, we gotta move fast.”
“Really,” I snapped. “You say that when you’re the one who’s been holding me back all this time!”
“Yeah, well, at least now you know what you’re walking into.”
“And where exactly am I walking into?”
Snuggles pointed with a stumpy arm. “The big top.” He jumped down off my shoulder. “Good luck, kid.”
I stared down at him. “What? You’re not coming in with me? But you said—”
“Look at me, would ya? I got no chance.”
“You could at least distract him or something, you and your little gang of furry miscreants.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Snuggles said, walking away. “Try not to die, kid, okay.”
Goddamn plushies…