The End of the Dream

Chapter 17

The contrast was utterly jarring, stepping out of a horror game and into a bright, kitschy game show.

Before you could gather your bearings, a trundling robotic assistant shoved you onto a contestant's podium. There were several of them around, sleek, futuristic things with spherical heads and softly rounded cone-shaped bodies. The design said they were intended to be unobtrusive and unintimidating, apart from the glowing crimson eyes it was paired with.

You were on the middle podium, with Dark and Wilford either side of you. You glanced furtively between them.

"What is this?" you muttered, trying to keep out of the presenter's earshot. "Should we run and keep looking for the core?"

Dark's expression remained neutral. His eyes evaluated everything.

His answer came in the slightest shake of his head. "Progression through a mindscape is not always strictly spatial. It may equally present in the form of puzzles or challenges, which must be overcome before a way forward presents itself. It is a reflection of the mind, after all."

Which, you gathered, meant you had to participate in this game show to progress. Or even to go backwards. The robotic assistants, unassuming as they may have seemed, were all staring directly at the three of you with red, unblinking eyes. They made hairs raise on the back of your neck. They weren't going to let you leave the game.

Wilford had not been privy to the hushed exchange with Dark. He seemed more focused on the host of the game.

"Bim?" Wilford was saying, leaning forward to get a better look at the man. "Bim! It is you, isn't it? Bim Trimmer!"

Bim had greasy, slicked-back hair, glasses, and an over-the-top, smarmy smile. His dark navy suit made a stark contrast to the white podium and backdrop. Whitened teeth showed as they grit through a heartily faked laugh. "Well, isn't that an honour! What a pleasure to know you remember me now."

"Goodness, what are you doing all the way out here?"

Bim spread his arms, gesturing to the studio. He beamed as brightly as ever, but there was something sharp and bitter beneath his tone. "What does it look like! Running my own show. Some people actually recognise and reward talent, you know."

You felt a sense of familiarity in that inflection. "Some people being Mark?" you asked.

"Ding, ding, ding! That is correct!" Bim boomed. "This new friend of yours is clever, Wil. Let's hope they can keep it up, because they're going to need to if they want to survive... Truth or Die!"

Bim made a dramatic gesture, while spotlights danced across the studio and a blaring string of theme music played.

Metal bars shot up around each of the contestant podiums, fencing Dark, Wilford and yourself into separate cages. Coloured lights wove across the floor as it pulled back to reveal a shallow pit beneath.

The sides were sloped, with each of your podiums set on tracks leading down to a pool of water at the bottom. The water was near white, thrashed and stirred violently by something you couldn't quite make out.

Bim clapped, laughed, and addressed an audience that didn't seem to actually exist. "That's right, folks! The stakes are high! The death is real! Each time one of our contestants doesn't answer their question with the absolute truth, they'll take one step closer to their demise. Three questions wrong, and it's into the chiranhas!"

"What on earth is a chiranha?" you asked, baffled.

"Piranhas crossed with chihuahuas. The most vicious, bloodthirsty creatures known to man, capable of stripping all the flesh from a fully grown adult in under a minute!"