Chapter Text
“Say cheese!”
A tiny speaker sputtered those words out just a few moments too late, as the camera had already taken Eriko and Michel’s photos. Despite the retro appearance of the camera, it was capable of not only producing full-color pictures but also instantaneously developing them like an instant camera sold in novelty shops. Eriko snatched the photos as the whirring of the printing stopped.
The whirring signaled that it had finished, and Eriko snatched them as soon as she could.
Dummyman’s photo studio was intended to be used as a free keepsake, but given the park’s track record, it really was more of a mockery of those foolish enough to even attempt the gauntlet of horrors disguised as entertainment.
For the two girls, it was more of a sanity-keeping thing than anything. Photo booths were a mainstay at these kinds of attractions, and they certainly were a lot more normal than a hospital or an elementary school. Besides, it was a bit of genuine fun for once.
Eriko picked up the strip of photos. Somehow, she’d managed to blink in all six of the possible photos. Weird. She tore two of the ones where Michel had been doing a silly face in and handed the rest to an outstretched hand.
“Eriko!” whined Michel, hitting the photos with the back of her free hand. “You closed your eyes in all of them!!”
Eriko sighed. “I’m not good with the flash.”
“Is that the one thing you’re scared of? Flash photography? I don’t believe it.”
“It’s not that I’m scared! It just...hurts my eyes.”
“I knew it! My psychic senses are on a roll today!” Michel giggled. She was pretty active in supernatural circles, and she had actually become semi-famous locally for driving an alleged evil spirit out of a sick child. Her biggest sore spot was reading minds. You’d think that would be one of the first things to learn as a psychic, along with telekinesis (which she also didn’t know), but alas, here she was. You didn’t need psychic powers to use social deduction.
That being said, Eriko had been there to witness one of her exorcising rituals. There was no skepticism in her mind when she watched Michel drive that ghost out of that sick child, so she was well aware of what she could do. Not to mention her liberal use of telepathy.
The central area of Illbleed was devoid of any other visitors. This was standard practice here, as Eriko and Michel were the only occupants of the photography studio too. Of course, it would be like this; just look at the annual death toll.
“You know, I took a look at the hospital before visiting Revenge of the Queen Worm,” Michel chimed in, trying to fill in the silence, “and did you know you can get revived there? 75,000 dollars is the price of a human life, I guess.”
“75,000 is a life-changing amount of money,” Eriko replied. So was one hundred million dollars, which is what every Illbleed challenger was fighting for. If someone could just casually throw 75k to revive a friend, they wouldn’t go through all this effort for just a hundred million. Maybe if they were bored? Incredibly greedy?
“I guess you’re right, but still, it feels weird that they can just do that, you know?”
“I guess it could be a scam. Or they just don’t expect anyone to actually pay for the procedure.”
“Makes sense. This place already kills people.” She turned herself towards the drugstore, head craning over her shoulder to look at Eriko. “You think Kevin’s still in there? In the drugstore?”
The drugstore in Illbleed was about as welcoming as it could be. This place could honestly run one of those shady gas stations a run for their money in a contest of pure sketchiness. The greenish fluorescent lights flickered on and off again, but even without their illumination, the worn-down grodiness of the store was very much apparent. Perhaps thematically appropriate for a horror-themed park, but the aging on the boxes suggested a different reason.
“Eriko! Michel!”
Kevin was off in a corner, squatting down to look at the medication on the bottom shelves. One hand was holding on to the shelf above, while the other was on the handle of a shopping basket. It, too, had certainly seen better days, and the contents of it were almost contradictory. Gauze and nitroglycerin intermingling with Hassy energy drinks and a ready-to-go hamburger. The nitroglycerin must have been for the impending heart attack that comes after drinking all that Hassy.
“The photos get done that quick? I expect that from the photo booths, but the studio?”
“Don’t be fooled by the fancy lights and cameras,” Eriko replied, “I think it’s the same tech they use in the photo booth, somehow.”
Michel started monkeying around with the items in Kevin’s basket.
“What’s with all the Hassy?”
“There’s a sale going on. Buy one, get two free. And the hamburger is mine. I haven’t had breakfast yet.”
“Ew…” Michel recoiled. “It’s not made with worm meat, is it?”
“…no?” Kevin got up, gripping the basket firmly. “Anyways, I should go pay for this. Randy’s still out there.”
There was no human cashier at the store. Well, there was a humanoid cashier, if that made up for anything. It was a small doll, only at about a middle schooler’s height with a disproportionately large head. It would robotically speak some canned sales pitches, and yes, even when you weren’t actively paying for something at the cashier.
“Have a bloody day!”
Ignoring the potentially profane farewell from the automaton, the trio began to weigh out their options.
“Randy likes gory, splatter types of movies, right?” Kevin said. He took a quick bite out of his burger before continuing. “So if there’s an attraction about that, he’d probably be in it.”
“That doesn’t narrow down our options at all. Pretty much all the attractions here feature extreme gore. Except for Toyhunter, I guess,” Eriko added.
From the other side of Eriko, Michel piped in with her own take on the matter, “I think he meant the slasher kinds of movies. He bought that super pricey prop chainsaw when he won the lottery that one time; he loves them that much.”
“That was from The Blood Bride. It’s the one the villain Theresa, wields—”
“Blood Bride! One of the theatres at the Cinema Zone is showing that, right?”
“You can always count on Encyclopedia Christy to find the answer!” Kevin chuckled.
“Guys…” Eriko had her own thoughts on where Randy might actually be. Her theory was that he was in Woodpuppets; he’d shown interest in the film when it had come out but never got around to seeing it. But her friends were always so impulsive. It was why they were in this mess to begin with. Not wanting to go through the trouble of rescuing them again, she trailed behind them towards the Cinema Zone.
The Cinema Zone was the main attraction of Illbleed. It consisted of single-screen theaters, all lined up in neat rows. All they showed day in and out were Micheal Reynolds films. Nothing but Micheal Reynolds films. But these weren’t ordinary theatres! Either by magic or very elaborate special effects, anyone who stepped inside them would very quickly find themselves in the world of the movie, monsters and all.
That was the main challenge of Illbleed. As Reynolds’ specialty was creating especially twisted forms of horror, it came as no surprise that they were deadly. But it wasn’t just psycho killers visitors had to look out for, for Illbleed had a nasty trick up its sleeve. Every movie was equipped with a series of elaborate traps, ranging from simple jumpscares to deadly hidden spikes. There was a reason why the grand prize was a hundred million dollars; had it been as easy as watching a couple of violent movies, then the prize would have been a voucher for Mummy Popcorn.
To ignore a massive elephant in the room, had the movies not been physically dangerous, they still would have been incredibly stressful to the average Joe. Being constantly stuck in horrific situations, ones realistic enough to make you forget that this is, in fact, just an amusement park. Human bodies are known to fold over long bouts of stress, and the mind… A case could be made that it ends up being the most severely damaged part in the end. It would take someone truly fearless to take it on, let alone complete the challenge. Not fearless, as in a synonym for brave or courageous, but as in lacking in any and all fear.
… Let’s just say Eriko was just about the perfect person to take on this challenge. Almost as if she was born for it. That’s why, despite being the last to arrive at the theatre, she was the first to step up to the box office to get it started.
Tonight’s showing was in Unholy Sights Cinema. The only thing setting it apart from the vast array of identical cinemas was the sign above it and the miniature billboard that sat off to the side of it, displaying the striking poster for the movie that awaited them.
The ticket booth had shown signs of some serious aging. Luckily, no human being was forced into these conditions; instead, where there would be an attendant was a rather unlucky robot. It took the form of the oh-so-popular Dummyman character.
“I-I-ID Ple-eee-eease”
The Dummyman robot twitched and jerked its body as its sound system struggled to sputter out its programmed dialogue. Eriko fished out her ID and slid it through the gap in the booth’s glass.
“Eriko Christy.” She watched the robot examine the ID, frozen in place for an uncomfortable few seconds.
“Acce-acce-accepted,” it squeaked out, returning the ID card along with a blank sheet of newspaper to Eriko. “Ne-Next-t-t-t in li-i-ine ple-eee-eease.”
Eriko leaned against the hallway. As her friends tried to get themselves admitted (Kevin in particular had to fight for his ID to be accepted.), she found herself attempting to identify all the movies that were being depicted on the walls of the building. Godlla, Dummyman, Killerman VII—she starred in that one!—and the list went on. It wasn’t the most thrilling of activities, yet she couldn’t help but appreciate and savor these moments of downtime, even if her colleagues needed it more than she did.
Michel joined Eriko in leaning against the wall as Kevin still struggled to get his ID accepted.
“Yeesh. I don’t even want to think about what kind of maintenance the bigger animatronics have to go through,” Michel said, relaxing her shoulders. She shot a cheeky look that implied that she wanted a response from Eriko.
“They’re actually pretty well maintained, from what I saw.” She paused. There was the incident with the giant Banballow. “Most of the time.”
Michel looked like she was just about to question that last addition when both of their trains of thought came colliding into a new, yippeeing and yahooing subject. It was Kevin!
“What was causing all that trouble in the first place? The booth was able to take me and Eriko’s cards just fine,” Michel asked.
Kevin held up his ID, the ends of it blackened. “This thing got totally scorched! I’m surprised it survived at all.”
“How did that… Oh. Yeah, the flamethrower.”
Kevin shoved the ID back into his jacket’s front pocket, seemingly having not learned his lesson from last time.
“Are we all ready? I can tell Eriko is,” he chuckled.
Michel and Eriko both nodded in unison.
Illbleed’s theaters set the mood perfectly. Beyond the front was a single-room theatre, with a small row of seats, only enough to fit a small party. Compared to the artificially lit hallway, the seats, although old and showing major signs of wear, managed to keep a bit of bounce to them.
The screen lit up, faded footage of a ghost town coming into view.
Wedding night was just one day ahead.
Kenneth Bihlmeir had gotten what he thought to be a one-night affair with shy little Theresa, pregnant three months ago. With the dread of his parents finding out, he and Theresa quickly arranged a marriage to hide their embarrassing secret. Little did Kenneth know his bride-to-be was hiding an even bigger secret...
Theresa was a nice lady, no doubt about it, but there was one thing Kenneth never got to see—her face. She had always worn a sack over her head, with only two holes for her eyes to poke out in. Kenneth had thought nothing of it at first; he had seen stranger things in this quaint little town and chose to ignore it for the time being.
Then, on the day of the wedding, he saw the most gruesome sight. A disfigured woman with a face that would stain every mind it reached with nightmares.
His soon-to-be bride was a hideous monster! He had no choice but to run for the hills, leaving poor Theresa at the altar, heartbroken, alone as usual.
Alone, and without the love of her life at her side, Theresa stayed in the cathedral for nights upon nights, waiting for her lover to come back to her with open arms and a cherished smile. But that would never come, and as the days went by, the rage in her kept building and building, until it took over her, unable to ever be properly killed until she found her husband and murdered him in cold, hard blood.
It started on one Sunday evening. The local nuns were thrilled that Theresa had finally worked up the courage to come out of hiding from the church’s attic. But their celebrations were met with a short end when Theresa returned with her loyally worn wedding dress in a bright new color—red. They, too, were slaughtered without remorse.
This little town would fear every Sunday that followed, as Theresa would kill a random citizen in a desperate search for her missing groom. They didn’t have to look like him or even be a man. All it took was one unlucky night, and you would be tonight’s victim.
No weapon or exorcist will stop her rampage, for she is:
THE BLOOD BRIDE
As the theater twisted and distorted, the once blank page of the newspaper began spelling out a familiar message, letter by letter.
To the challengers…
Theresa’s hatred has formed a protective aura around her, which prevents any harm done to her.
Find out what secrets this backwater town has in store and figure out a way to put an end to Theresa’s horrific killing spree. Before, she sets her sights on you, of course.