Outside again, I walked a hundred yards or so and found a rock to sit on, my body exhausted, health and stamina almost depleted. As I sat down, the first thing I did was use a Health Potion to heal my wounds, though the potion did little to grow back my missing fingers on my left hand.

All four fingers had been cut in half, with only my thumb surviving those razor sharp scissors welded by that queen bitch mallrat, the Fashionista, who I would hate forever for beheading Ben.

Sure, Ben had been a Synth Grizzly who spoke in Auto-Tuned growls and wore plastic neon sunglasses, but he was also a good soul. I could tell that much about him from the short time we were together. Without him, I don’t think I would’ve survived inside that mall. I was going to miss the big guy.

Sighing over my missing fingers, which were now skin covered stumps, I fumbled the pack of cigarettes I’d scored from the Mall Cop out of my inventory, popping one in my mouth before sparking it up with my lighter. The first inhale made me choke, maybe because my throat was so dry after all that killing inside the mall. But the next drag went down smoother, and soon I felt that lovely nicotine doing its job of calming me and relaxing my nervous system.

“Oh,” I said, blowing out a long, satisfying stream of smoke, holding up the cigarette to look at it, “how I’ve missed you so.”

Straight ahead of me, the enormous mall was busy burning itself to the ground. Thick black smoke and flames poured from every window now. Glass shattered with the heat, and the smell of burning plastic and roasting flesh carried on the air. It was satisfying to watch, knowing all those mallrat retards were getting burned to ashes.

And speaking of mallrat retards, here was one now. He or she—I couldn’t tell which because they were on fire—came bursting through the shattered main doors of the mall, screaming like a banshee, yet still managing to talk their nonsense 80s slang even as the flesh and plastic dripped off them. I thought I’d killed them all, but it seemed some of them had survived.

“Oh my god, like, this is so not tubular!” the burning mallrat shrieked. “I can’t even, like, handle this heatwave, dude! It’s totally harshing my mellow!”

I stared in disbelief as the flaming figure stumbled toward me, its clothes and synthetic skin melting away, revealing charred flesh and glowing embers. Yet, it continued to babble in its ridiculous slang.

“Gag me with a spoon, this is so not rad!” it cried, flailing its arms wildly, sending sparks and bits of burning plastic flying through the air. “I’m like, totally melting here, bro! This is so uncool!”

More mallrats poured out, all of them on fire, their screams filling the air. Yet, despite their imminent demise, they continued to act in the most incongruous ways. One of them, a girl with a side ponytail that was now a flaming torch, started doing a bizarre dance, her movements jerky and erratic.

“Like, oh my god, I’m on fire!” she exclaimed, twirling around like a demented ballerina. “This is so not how I planned to spend my Saturday night!”

Smoking my cigarette, I watched with dark amusement as the burning mallrats continued their absurd antics. One of them even started doing push-ups, his body convulsing with each movement.

“Gotta stay fit, bro!” he grunted, his voice filled with pain. “Can’t let a little fire stop me from getting swole!”

Another mallrat, this one with a shirt that read “Where’s the Beef?” started doing a bizarre impression of a robot, his movements stiff and mechanical as the flames consumed him.

“Jesus Christ,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t how much more this place I can take.”

I was starting to realize that the hardest part of these Trials was not the physical challenge of getting though them, but the even greater challenge of maintaining your sanity throughout.

With each round of the Trials, how many players end up loosing their marbles and just wandering around like drooling idiots? Most of them, I’d say.

However fucked up and crazy at times things were back on Earth, it still felt normal. Even tolerable. Neither of those things applied to this place. What was normal about plastic skinned mallrats doing pushups while on fire?

Finishing my cigarette, I tossed the butt away and then stood up. As the huge mall began to crumble and fall to the ground, I turned my back on it and walked away.

I had taken all of two steps when I felt a searing pain in my head, then suddenly I was seeing Annalise in front of me, no longer tied to the wheel, but now strapped to a grotesque parody of a carnival game. She was secured to a giant dartboard, her arms and legs stretched out and bound with barbed wire that bit into her flesh. Her clothes were torn and bloodied, her face a mask of pain and terror.

The dartboard was surrounded by a semicircle of maniacal clowns, their faces painted with grotesque grins, their eyes wild and filled with a sadistic glee. Each clown held a set of oversized darts, the tips gleaming with a sinister light.

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“Well, looky who decided to join the party.” Floss’ voice echoed in my mind, his tone a sickening blend of 1950s charm and malevolent delight. “Welcome to the main event, Kade. I do hope you’re enjoying the show.”

Annalise screamed, her body convulsing as one of the clowns threw a dart, the tip embedding itself in her thigh. Blood welled up around the wound, and she cried out in agony. The defiance she held last time I saw her was now gone, replaced by raw terror.

“Oh, don’t be such a spoilsport, sweetheart,” Floss taunted, his voice dripping with a twisted, mocking sympathy. “It’s all just a bit of fun, isn’t it? A little game of darts, that’s all.”

Another clown stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with a manic intensity. He licked his lips, a grotesque parody of anticipation, before hurling his dart. It struck Annalise in the shoulder, and she screamed again.

“Please, stop!” she begged, her voice breaking with desperation. “Please, just stop!”

Floss laughed, a sound filled with a cruel, sadistic delight. “Stop? But we’re just getting started, darling. The fun’s only just beginning.”

I struggled to break free from Floss’ grip, to tear myself away from the horrific scene playing out before me. But I was trapped, forced to watch through his eyes as Annalise suffered, her screams echoing through my mind like a never-ending nightmare.

“You see, Kade, this is what happens when you cross Herbie Floss,” he said. “This is the price of defiance. And your little friend here is paying it in full.”

Another dart flew through the air, striking Annalise in the stomach. She screamed again.

“Please, Kade,” she sobbed, her voice filled with a raw, desperate plea. “Please, help me. Please, make it stop.”

But I was helpless, trapped in Floss’ mind, forced to watch as Annalise was tortured, her screams filling my ears, her pain echoing through my soul. I could feel Floss’ pleasure, his sickening delight as he reveled in her suffering, and it made me want to vomit, to tear myself free from his grip and put an end to his twisted games.

“Oh, isn’t this just delightful?” Floss crowed. “The sound of her screams, the sight of her pain—it’s like music to my ears, Kade. Like the sweetest symphony.”

Another dart struck Annalise, and another, and another, each one eliciting a fresh scream of agony, each one driving me closer to the edge of madness. I struggled to break free, to tear myself away from Floss’s grip, but it was no use. I was trapped, a prisoner in his mind, forced to witness the horrors he inflicted on my friend.

“Oh, this is just too much fun,” Floss chuckled. “But I think it’s time to spice things up a bit, don’t you, Kade?”

With a wave of his hand, the clowns stepped back, their grotesque grins widening as they awaited their master’s next command. Floss snapped his fingers, and a twisted, mechanical contraption descended from somewhere, its gears and cogs whirring ominously. It was a spinning wheel adorned with razor-sharp blades and jagged spikes.

“What... what is that?” Annalise gasped, her eyes wide with terror as the contraption lowered toward her.

“Why, it’s the Wheel of Misfortune, my dear,” Floss replied. “A little something I cooked up just for you. I do hope you enjoy the ride.”

The wheel began to spin, its blades glinting menacingly in the garish neon lights of the carnival. Annalise screamed, her body convulsing as she tried desperately to free herself from her bonds. But it was no use. She was trapped, helpless, at the mercy of Floss’s games.

“Please, no,” she begged. “Kaaade!”

But I was helpless, trapped in Floss’s mind, forced to watch as the wheel spun faster and faster, its blades inching closer and closer to Annalise’s flesh. I could feel Floss’s pleasure, his sickening delight as he reveled in her terror, and it made me want to vomit.

“Oh, isn’t this just delightful?” Floss crowed. “The anticipation, the fear—it’s like a drug, Kade. Like the sweetest nectar.”

The wheel spun faster still, its blades now mere inches from Annalise’s skin. She screamed again, her voice raw and hoarse, her eyes wide with a terror so profound it seemed to consume her very soul.

And then, with a sickening crunch, the first blade made contact, slicing through Annalise’s flesh. She screamed, her body convulsing with a pain so intense it seemed to shatter her. Blood sprayed from the wound, splattering the ground and the clowns that stood watching, their grins widening with sadistic delight as they tasted her blood.

“Oh, yes, yes, yes!” Floss cried out, his voice now filled with orgasmic pleasure. “This is it, Kade! This is what it’s all about! This is what I live for!”

The wheel spun faster still, its blades slicing through Annalise’s flesh again and again, each cut eliciting a fresh scream of agony, each wound spraying blood in a grotesque, crimson arc.

Laughing, Floss clicked his fingers and the wheel stopped spinning. But he wasn’t done with me yet.

“And what of our little friend, Snuggles?” he said, his voice dripping with a mocking concern. “Where might he be, hmm? Let’s go look, shall we, Kade?”

He continued laughing like the Joker on mushrooms, the sound grating on my nerves. I was still trapped in his mind, forced to see through his eyes as he turned away from the bloody spectacle of Annalise’s torture and led me deeper into the carnival.

The scene that greeted me was even more horrifying than I could have imagined. Snuggles was hanging upside down from a rope, his blue fur soaked with blood, turning him a deep, sickening red. His usually bright and cheerful eyes were dull and glazed, barely registering our presence. The other plushies, once his friends, now twisted and corrupted by Floss’ dark magic, surrounded him, their once cute and cuddly forms now grotesque parodies of themselves.

They were torturing him, their sharp claws and teeth tearing at his flesh, their once playful antics now twisted into acts of cruelty and violence. Snuggles barely reacted, his body limp and broken, his spirit all but crushed.

“Ah, here he is!” Floss exclaimed. “Our little blue friend, all trussed up and ready for playtime!” He walked over to Snuggles, his footsteps echoing ominously in the otherwise silent carnival. The plushies parted to let him through.

“Look at him, Kade,” Floss said. “So weak, so pathetic. He can barely even react to our little games. It’s almost sad, isn’t it?” Floss reached out and grabbed Snuggles by the throat, lifting him up so that his blood-soaked form dangled helplessly in the air.

“Please,” Snuggles rasped, his voice barely audible, a shadow of its former self. “Please… stop.”

Floss laughed. “Stop?” he mocked. “But we’re just getting started, little one. The fun’s only just beginning.” He released Snuggles from his grip, the plushie left dangling again.

Then he directed his attention to me, his tone darkening. “You’d better hurry up and get here, Kade old sport. I don’t know how much longer your friends are going to last.”

I could almost feel his manic grin.

“I’ll be waiting, Kade…”