Writer's Games: Carnival

Finals: Viola Fern Rigby

Vi woke up to shouts and bangs and not a small amount of swearing. Her head felt weird. More...organised, somehow. Like it had been full of memories and thoughts just floating around randomly and now they had all been tidied away and put in drawers. The only logical explanation was that Viola had done something, but Vi couldn't imagine that she'd be strong enough for something like that.

-We aren't getting any ideas back there, are we?

-oh no, heaven forbid I try and organise my mind.

-Don't do it again. It's too tidy.

-terribly sorry for trying to bring some order to your life.

Vi shook her head, like a dog ridding itself of water, and tried to focus. The shouts were getting louder, the bangs and crashes swelling in volume as the rolled towards her hiding place. Currently Vi was tucked away in a hall, safe from laser-beams and suits of knights that were trying to kill her. It did not look, however, as though she would be safe for very much longer.

The good thing about the hall was that it was at one end of the funhouse. It was small and dark and hard to spot anyone in it provided they curled up into a small enough ball and wedged themselves into a corner. This was from the door. Once the person stepped inside it would be painfully obvious to them that there was somebody there. That somebody there would be Vi, and the result of these occurrences would most likely be Vi's death. Said death would probably be long-drawn-out, painful, and on the whole not something she wanted to experience.

*

Viola smiled. It was all too easy to plant suggestions; a thought here, a sudden realisation there, and Vi wouldn't know what hit her. Right now she was thinking how nice it would be if Vi just got up and, you know, maybe went for a bit of a walk. Towards the other end of the funhouse, possibly. Closer to a door, you know, where it was a lot harder for any evil psychopaths to trap them inside and then brutally murder them. These thoughts, she decided, would fit in nicely with Vi's extraordinarily well-developed sense of Self-Preservation.

A perk of having such a good knowledge of when to get the hell out of places was that it did not take long to kick in. Already Vi was standing up, stretching, and creeping to the door of the weird little hall. It was there that Viola met the first of many obstacles towards survival. The floor had, it seemed, seen fit to disappear, and to be replaced with a pink slide that looked rather too much like that picture of the inside of an oesophagus that they had seen during science.

Ah, thought Viola. Wouldn't it be absolutely wonderful if we just stayed here? I certainly think that that would be the best course of action, and wholeheartedly recommend that we do just that. And as you are part of me, Vi, and currently I am part of you, really your correct response right now would be to exactly what I, at this moment in time, want to do.

Unfortunately, Vi's sense of Why-The-Fuck-Would-We-Do-The-Smart-Thing-Why-Don't-We-Just-Go-Do-The-Stupid-But-Fun-Thing-Cos-I-Dunno-Why-The-Hell-Not was a weensy bit stronger than her sense of Self-Preservation. Possibly something to do with the ridiculously long name. They took the slide.

*

Vi grinned. If she hadn't been trapped inside a funhouse with a group of murderous psychos on the loose she probably would have whooped. There was nothing quite like sliding down a slide resembling the inside of a food-pipe, after all. It was a steep slide, fast, and without those pesky bumps that happened whenever two slats were joined together and really damn hurt.

She could feel Viola in the back of her mind. It was quite amusing, how she screamed for Vi to stop, yelling that this was a bloody stupid idea and only a wanker like you would decide to go for it. Poor girl. She really needed to realise that this was no longer her head.