The Game at Carousel: A Horror Movie LitRPG

Chapter Twenty-Six: One Last Guess

“…single penetrating wound to the abdomen…”

” …bleeding has stopped…”

“…prepping for transport…”

I came to as I was being placed on a stretcher. The pain in my abdomen echoed all over my body. I was thirsty and even just moving my muscles hurt from fatigue. A paramedic was holding a wad of blood-soaked fabric against my wound.

My shirt was ripped open. My hoodie was gone. Sunglasses missing.

The first thing I noticed before looking around was my status on the red wallpaper:

Unscathed

Hobbled

Mutilated (Flickering)

Dead

Written Off (Flickering)

Chase Scene

Planning

Unconscious

Infected

Incapacitated

(Flickering)

Captured

Off-Screen (Lit)

Fight Scene

Exploring

Several lights were turning off and on. Mutilated. Incapacitated. Written off.

Written off?

Was I done? Had I been taken out of the story? It couldn't be over.

I looked around. I was outside of the stadium. A crowd of NPCs had gathered around to watch as the paramedics and police tried to sort out the situation. Flashing lights from the ambulance and the police cruisers colored the night red and blue.

There was a murmur among the crowd as they watched. I imagine that many of these were the same NPCs that had seen me publicly accused. Now it was their job to cry and watch as I got loaded into the back of an ambulance.

In the distance, I saw Officer Ricky. He had blood on his hands. He sat on a curb near his parked police golf cart on the edge of the parking lot. His hands were shaking, and his eyes were fixated forward, staring, lost in a dark thought.

Was that blood mine? Had Officer Ricky been the one to find me?

It was strange to see that the NPCs still put in so much effort when they were off-screen. Not only were we off-screen, but I was about to be written off. I knew only the basics of what that status condition meant but the gist was it took you out of the story. Effectively it was like dying except you don't die.

You go to jail. You get hospitalized. Your death is left ambiguous. Several things could get you counted as written off. Whatever the case, if you are written off, you could not complete the story. If your team lost, you lost.

The status was flickering though. Did that mean I had a choice?

I could hear a familiar voice sharper than the blade that had cut me.

Detective Blackwood.

I didn't know where he was, I think he was on the other side of the ambulance talking to some other police officers. But I did hear what he said.

“We must have missed something.”

No kidding.

“Spree killer?” One of the police officers asked him.

"I believe that all of these incidents are interconnected," Detective Blackwood said. "There's a pattern here: the victims were acquainted with each other and there are multiple crime scenes. It seems that the killer is attempting to cover their tracks. I need to have a word with the survivor before the paramedics take him away.”

Attempting to cover their tracks? How would killing Camden…

Just thinking of his name sent waves of intense dread through my body.

…How would killing Camden cover up the death of Ruck? So many clues pointed to different motives for Ruck’s death. Which ones also explained Camden?

One of the police officers spoke, bringing me back to reality. “He must have seen something. He was found next to one of the stiffs.”

Stiffs? Plural? There was more than one body?

Panic set in as I tried to figure out who the other victim could be.

I immediately thought of Anna. I know it makes no sense because Anna's Last One Alive trope would have ensured that she survived much longer, but I had to know for sure.

I tried to sit up.

And failed.

It wasn't going to happen. Every time I flexed my abdominal muscles my Incapacitated status would flare up and I would go limp.

I was on a stretcher and the EMTs were messing with some stuff up in the cabin, preparing to bring me with them, but I couldn't let them.

“Wait!” I screamed.

They seemed alarmed that I was awake. “Hold still kid, we'll get you to the hospital,” one of the EMTs said.

“No,” I said.

I fought to pull myself off the side of the stretcher. They were designed to prevent that sort of thing, but I was adamant.

“Where's Camden?” I ask. “Show me!”

The paramedics ignored me. The script said that they were going to take me to the hospital. That's what they were going to do.

“Did my friends come to see me? Did they say anything?”

One paramedic looked at the other. “They’ll come to see you in the hospital, just get back in—“

I pulled away from the paramedics as they tried to restrain me. Incapacitation and even Mutilation don't impede your Hustle stat. Only Hobbled does. When my Incapacitated status flared, I wouldn't be able to move for a few seconds and I might fall over. But technically, I still had Hustle. Theoretically, that is all that should matter.

The EMTs stabilized my wound and secured it with a big wad of gauze and tape. It would have to be enough. I needed to see who else was killed.

Mutilation affected Grit and overall Plot Armor. It reduced my Grit down to zero. My Plot Armor was now a measly three. That was okay, it wasn't like I was using either of those anyway.

I had two points of Hustle going into the storyline. I got a third point because of the successful use of the Escape Artist trope in the tunnels. A lot of good it did me down there. The EMTs only had one point in Hustle like all basic NPCs.

I rushed away from the stretcher trying not to breathe. Breathing made my wound hurt more and triggered Incapacitation. I did a quick burst away from the stretcher and caught myself against a cop car nearby. I didn't have long, I just needed to look around and find where they had put Camden’s body. It would be the same place as the other victim. I had to know who it was.

I quickly turned around to look at the ambulance and the area around it.

I spotted them. There were two more ambulances parked on the other side of the one I was being loaded into. In front of them were two stretchers, both of which held a deceased body covered in a white sheet, just like Ruck’s had been.

I ran to the first. The paramedics made chase, but I was launching myself forward as quickly as I could and using the vehicles in between us to hold myself up if necessary. Running is hard when you know that your body can give out on you at any second.

But I persisted.

The first body was small, just shorter than me. Someone with a thin wiry frame, as if they spent more time in the library than at the gym. I couldn't bear the thought of seeing him lying here like that so I lifted the side of the sheet until I could see his hand. It was Camden, just as I expected.

His stats on the red wallpaper were still visible. He had gotten a boost in Savvy and Grit from my Cinema Seer—Survive ability. I had predicted that Ranger Danger would strike at the football game. Not that it had helped anyone.

But who was under the other sheet?

This one was larger. It was a man based on the general shape. Not big enough to be Antoine, but bigger than me.

I reached out for the sheet and just as the paramedics were getting to me, I pulled it off.

It was Evan.

I didn't want it to be him. I was hoping it had been Mark or Nathan. I thought Evan would be Ranger Danger. So many things in the story seemed to point to him, how could he not be the killer?

The paramedics started to pull me back toward the ambulance. I didn't give them a fight.

Evan had been the one to notice that Ruck was missing.

Evan had known Ruck was dead just from seeing a hulking figure under a sheet being loaded in an ambulance.

Nelly Birch took business classes. Evan was trying to get his Master of Business Administration. Maybe they had classes together? A stronger connection never appeared.

Evan’s girlfriend had broken up with him because of a rumor of cheating. Ruck had started a rumor that Amber had slept with a bunch of guys. I was certain that I would eventually find that those two facts were related but I never did.

Most suspicious of all, Evan somehow knew that I was at the house when everyone else had left. If he wasn't Ranger Danger that meant that the real killer had told him. We had tried to ask him. Alas, that knowledge died with him.

Evan was a red herring. He was too perfect in every way except the ones that mattered. He had no motive and all we knew about the killer is that Ranger Danger did have a motive.

I thought back to what Detective Blackwood had said.

Someone was trying to cover their tracks.

Why didn’t I see it before?

The paramedics got me back to the stretcher but before they could load me, I struggled forward and caught myself against the ambulance door before pivoting away and running again. I would never be able to keep away from them for long even with my higher Hustle. Incapacitation would kill that advantage eventually.

The finale had been going on for a while in my absence. It was nearly time for the final battle. I had a hunch about where it was going to be. We were going back to where this whole thing started: Delta Epsilon Delta.

The reason is kind of funny. I’ll give you a chance to guess before I tell you.

But how did I get back there?

No matter what I did, I would eventually become Incapacitated, and they would catch me because of that. There wouldn't be cars that I could hold myself up on like there were in this parking lot. And I was losing energy. Endurance is determined by Grit. I had none.

How could I escape?

My eyes scanned the area and I saw Officer Ricky again.

Ricky was having a very hard time with what he had seen that day. He was a gentle soul anyone could see it. I almost felt bad for what I was about to do but I had a feeling he would forget about it by morning.

Behind Officer Ricky was the police golf cart that he drove. It was designed to be driven around campus.

An idea formed in my mind of how I could get away from the paramedics.

My Hustle stat increased by 1. Escape Artist had activated again. That was all the confirmation I needed.

I booked it.

I had to make it to the golf cart all on one breath or else Incapacitation would take over and I would face-plant it onto the concrete.

I raced over to the parking lot and jumped the curb barely catching myself against the cart as I finally took a breath.

Officer Ricky was more shell-shocked than I expected because he barely even registered that I had run past him.

I jumped into the seat of his cart and reached down under the seat to where the ignition switch was. I flicked it on.

My foot found the gas and I was immediately shocked by how much giddy-up this thing had. It was enough that just the shift of my body weight triggered my Incapacitation, but it didn't matter because I was sitting down, and the golf cart kept going even if I couldn't.

I circled the parking lot. The paramedics had no chance of catching me on this thing, not unless they wanted to hop in their ambulance and follow.

By all means, let them. We were probably going to need them.

I raced back toward the Delta Epsilon Delta house.

As I drove, I saw Detective Blackwood. I swear, he had an amused smirk on his face.

There was only one person who had a motive not only to kill Ruck but then to kill Camden and Evan to try and cover it up.

And I knew who it was.