The Inn (Evenstad Media Presents Book 3)
Page 4
I went to that other machine. I decided it was best to just try it at this point. If something went wrong, something went wrong, but I would have to eat eventually, dangerous or not. It’s definitely food, but not good food. Some sort of grayish cake. The packaging said it was ‘emergency nutrition.’ It’s supposed to have everything you need to survive in it. But apparently no flavor. It doesn’t taste bad. It doesn’t taste like anything. Probably not designed for long-term survival, but there you go. Utilitarian food at its most mediocre.
I’m still waiting for something to happen. It’s been quiet around here, and I just know something’s going to happen. Another alarm or some unexpected change to the gameplay. I don’t know what it’s going to be, but I’d be willing to bet I won’t like it. I’d be willing to bet none of us will. Of course, whoever you are reading this, if there’s anyone reading this, you probably already know what’s coming. National TV and all.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 02JOY
ENTRY 002
DATE: 1/4/2076
It’s my turn to stay up while the boys sleep. I guess it’s nice, finally getting a second alone here with nothing but my own thoughts.
You know, I always used to wish that I could see my baby brother more often. This wasn’t the way I wanted that to happen. Not at all. We’re barely even getting to talk, everything’s so up in the damn air in this place. I mean, I ain’t rightly seen him longer than twenty minutes here and there for a couple years, now. Nothing bad happened. At least I don’t think so. We just got busy. Work at the factory picked up, he got more clients. Finding time was just tricky, but I still hoped that we could. Real time to sit and talk with each other, long enough to get through all the everyday catch-up crap and really get in deep. The way we used to talk when we got to see each other a couple times a week, before life got in the way.
I’d take it in half a second here, if that’s what it took. But everything is just getting in our damn way. I think Terrence has something to do with it too. Bless him, he’s a sweet man, but he’s a block between the two of us really connecting. I hate saying anything like that about such a nice person, but how can we really open up with a stranger constantly sitting there?
I guess I can’t really blame him for our issues. This whole place is getting between me and my brother. This whole ridiculous damned show we got thrown into is getting between us, and I’m sick of it. I just want one or two hours where it’s the two of us. If I didn’t know he needed his rest, I’d wake him up now and have a chat.
Maybe in a few hours. Until then, I’ll just sit here and hope that nothing goes awry. How much more awry than this it can get, I can’t say, but that’s why I’m sitting here awake with a gun in my hand. Just like a good Texan girl.
ENTRY END
TO: Niels Evenstad
FROM: Magnus Evenstad
SUBJECT: First Episode Concerns
SENT 1/4/2076 AT 12:29 p.m. EST
Niels,
I’m becoming concerned, reviewing the footage of gameplay so far. I have my doubts that your first episode of The Inn will be compelling enough to encourage your viewership to continue watching. In short, there isn’t enough footage of strong action to live up to expectations. You were lucky with The Mall. Your second episode was strong enough to carry the audience through, and the reveal of the guards was sufficient to keep the tension high. The Park was an even bigger stroke of luck. Your contestants were willing to fight.
Relying on that luck, however, is not viable going forward, and the evidence shows that your current contestants are far more willing to simply wait for something to happen, or hope for nothing to happen, which is the more likely conclusion. And the plan I reviewed for this show going forward doesn’t speak of any particularly shocking revelations. This could very quickly become a problem.
I realize that you are not at your best. As I said, I intend to aid you in getting through this as much as is necessary. I spoke with some of your employees in order to enact some motivation for the contestants to interact more. Your proposed time table on the activation of the trap rooms was fine, in theory, but I believe that we can both agree it’s not particularly effective in practice. I feel like it’s the best choice to increase the risk to the players, and I put the plan in motion so there’s nothing for you to concern yourself with.
Of course, if you did have some sort of alternative plans in place, this should only compliment them. It’s difficult, given the type of program this is, to include too much action.
Stay well, Niels,
Magnus Evenstad,
Chief Executive Officer, Evenstad Enterprises
JOURNAL 09HIKARU
ENTRY 002
DATE: 1/5/2076
Another alarm sounded, close enough to send me into a panic and running into the hall. No matter where I went of how far I moved, I could hear it. I swear, it must have been more than one alarm. Nothing else I can imagine would account for the sounds I heard. No trick with sound waves or echoes that I’m familiar with, at the very least.
I made it through unscathed, but I can’t imagine everyone did. If there were multiple hazards occurring at once, I can’t imagine that it would leave everyone unhurt. I can hope for that, but the honest truth is much more disturbing. A fairly high chance that someone was injured. In that case, I hope it wasn’t severe.
I still haven’t come to a conclusion as to what is an acceptable sacrifice to make. My life or my morals. Both integral, both powerful forces. The unclouded facts would state that my life is more important. Without life, I cannot practice my morals. But is openly practicing a moral code more important than adhering to it within your own being? Complicated issues. I was hoping to sleep on them, but the alarms woke me. All I have are the same questions and the same worries from before, but with less mental acuity to make sense of them.
ENTRY END
11
JOURNAL 01DEB
ENTRY 003
DATE: 1/5/2076
What kind of twisted hellhole is this? Kids dying? She was eighteen. It wasn’t supposed to kill her. That’s what the letter said. Alarm goes off, things get dangerous, but not lethal. Nothing was supposed to be lethal.
She got killed by a door. No, not just a door. The door was the weapon. I was the one who killed her. I thought I had her, that I could get her out of there in time. Was there any way to avoid it? The door shut when I tried to get through. I was far enough into the hallway that I was fine when I fell. But she… Shelley got caught on the damn handle. It was her stupid shirt. It got tangled and neither of us could get her free in time.
God, all I could do was sit there and watch her. The door hesitated when it hit her body, but that wasn’t enough to stop it. Why didn’t I look away? It’s not something I wanted to see. I suppose it would have been a disservice to look away from her then.
I keep saying God, keep talking to him. But is there really a God who would allow this? No. Not here, at least. Not in this damnable hotel. It was just a door. I just wanted to keep her safe, get her out of here alive if that was possible. She was heading to college, and now she’s just… gone. I didn’t even move the body. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Someone will find it, and I hope they can treat her with respect of some kind. Whatever respect there is to be had for her. Will her family see that? I hope not. No parent needs to see that. Right in half. My fault.
No. I didn’t ask to come here. I didn’t volunteer. Maybe I created the problem by eating up the first two seasons. Maybe this is the price I have to pay for encouraging this. But if I’m supposed to be punished by whatever cosmic thing is out there, why kill her? She did nothing. She was eighteen, for Christ’s sake. Innocent. Young. Looking to take on the world.
This is Evenstad’s doing. Is there anything I can do about it? I don’t know. Will I try? If there’s any possible way I think I can help, then what choice do I have?
ENTRY END
JOURNAL
04KATYA
ENTRY 002
DATE: 1/5/2076
Five days in now, and calm isn’t working. I can’t find anywhere safe. This. Is. Hell.
I’m starting to think that safe isn’t even an option around here. I was hoping I might be able to find a place, hole up in one of the hotel rooms. But no. Of course not. An alarm went off in the room I found, and now I can’t find one I even feel good in. I’m positive at every second that something else might happen, and I can’t afford to let my guard down. Not if I’m going to be going up against anything like what was in that room. I can’t afford to get in a bad spot again. Especially not until I can recover from this. I feel like I’m not even in control of my own thoughts, and I know that’s dangerous.
It could have been worse, I’m sure. Much worse. It was just smoke. It looked like smoke, anyway. I suppose I don’t know for sure what it was. I hope nothing too bad. Smoke is damaging enough by itself. If it was some kind of chemical…
I’m still coughing up black three hours later, and breathing hurts. If I run into anyone, I don’t know how well I’d be able to get away. I’d probably have to fight. Maybe that was the whole idea behind it. Shouldn’t be a surprise, Katya.
I’m still going to try and retain my calm, keep my peace, but I need to accept the fact that I won’t ever be as safe here as I want. And I need to accept the fact that I might have to hurt somebody in order to stay safe. I don’t want to. I’m not a violent person. I never have been, no matter how bad the situation got. Why am I saying all this to myself? These are things I know about myself already. I don’t need to go over them.
Maybe it’s just a way to ignore what’s actually happening around me. It wouldn’t be the first time in my life I checked out of things to avoid something painful. I checked out of my first marriage, checked out of too many jobs before I became a flight attendant. I should have learned my lesson after so much pain. But no. Not Katya. I don’t learn. That’s not how I work. I don’t learn my lessons, and I’m still going to check out. That’s what Katya does. And it always bites me in the ass, but I go back to it. It’s easier than facing anything that might actually be difficult. Too bad knowing that doesn’t help solve the problem.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 03MAX
ENTRY 002
DATE: 1/6/2076
I don’t have a damn clue what in the hell happened yesterday, but it can’t have been pretty for anybody. That racket was so loud, I’m halfway surprised the dead didn’t jump up to see what was the matter. Me and Joy and Terrence were up for hours after that, just waiting for something else. I’m sure people were running around frantic. No way anyone in this hotel missed all that noise. It probably flushed everyone out of hiding. Were things going too slow for the big TV muckety-mucks? They figured they’d scare up some excitement?
Well, I hope it didn’t do a damn thing for them, but hope ain’t good for just about anything. Whoever’s making this show tick is in control more than I bet anyone wants to admit. Probably even more than I can think of, or would ever even want to. We’re just in here to play their game and do what they want, and unfortunately, that puts all of us at whatever sort of disadvantage they want us at. I ain’t in control. Neither is Joy. Neither is Terrence. Twelve damn people locked up in this place, and not a single one of us has anything we can do to make this insanity work in our favor.
I guess that’s how insanity works, though. There ain’t no reason behind it, otherwise it wouldn’t be insanity. But maybe that’s not what it is at all. Not to Evenstad Media, I can guarantee that. They have all kinds of good reasons to do what they’re doing, right?
Bullshit. There’s not a single reason good enough to throw a bunch of innocent people into this kind of Hell. Death row inmates? Sure. If they want to try for the chance to get their freedom, make them do the rest of the damn world a favor. Getting rid of a bunch of other murderers and rapists and assholes sounds like good penance for their crimes to me.
Unfortunately, that ain’t the way this thing is going. Maybe there’s a prisoner or two in the mix, I don’t know. I’m sure a company with the kind of power it takes to legalize murder for a game show has more than enough power to buy a couple folks off death row. But none of the three of us are prisoners. I suppose Terrence could be. I don’t technically know how much of what he’s been telling me and Joy is the truth, but I trust him, and he says he’s a journalist. Worked for Evenstad of all places, and apparently didn’t have very many kind words to say about them. This show in particular.
Just like a big company, throwing their weight around to get whatever they want. They ‘volunteered’ Terrence when he got inconvenient, and if what he thinks is true is actually true, they aren’t exactly the most savory characters aside from all that. The war in Egypt? A land grab so they could get a leg up in agriculture without putting out the money it would cost to get good farmland in the USA.
I don’t know what’s really going on. I sell houses for a living. But I don’t have much reason to put anything past Evenstad, given what they’ve already done to us, and to the twenty-four others before us.
In short? They’re evil, but they’re playing chessmaster. I’m just a pawn and I ain’t got a hope of seeing the whole board. Which means all I can do is try to guess where it is they don’t want me to be and do my damnedest to be right there.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 08BILLIE
ENTRY 003
DATE: 1/6/2076
Six days, now. I don’t know if it’s all the alarms that went off that have me all nervous, or me getting into my own head, or if there’s really something going on with my body. I hope it’s not the last one. Mostly. There’s still a part of me that hopes that it is just my hormones, and that the shoe finally dropped on that. At least the waiting would be over. But I can’t know. I don’t know now, and there’s no way for me to tell any time in the future. Not until some real physical symptoms start to show up.
Right now, I’m just glad I haven’t seen anyone. I’ve heard a few footsteps out and about, running through the halls. Doors opening and closing. I know that I can’t really stay in here forever. I want to, but I know that life doesn’t work out that way, even when it’s being kind. This isn’t a kind part of life. This is cruelty. This is plain wrong.
I know that I need to keep hold of myself. I need to be stronger than I’ve probably ever been. And I might have to do things that are way beyond what’s right. This is survival. After everything I’ve been through to get some actual contentment in my life, I need to stay alive. I can’t afford not to. I’ll have to take time to deal with what I had to do in here, but I can only do that if I actually survive to the end. I’m trying not to think about what that means. Not the details. That won’t make it any easier.
But I do value my life. I know that. I knew that from the very beginning. If I didn’t, I never would have worked so damn hard to live my life as me, to live my life as Billie. I’m just not quite ready to sit back and let things happen to me, let the worst happen to me. I don’t know for sure how well any of this is going to work when I’m face to face with an actual situation where I have to react, where I have to defend myself. I’ll probably freeze up and all this good glorious talk will be for nothing. But at least right now, I’m sure of what I want, and I’m sure I’m not going to let anyone else come along and rob me of my chance at life. Not now.
ENTRY END
Jeremiah North: Porn Star with a Past a Contestant on Evenstad’s Hit Reality Show
Posted 1/4/2076 at 11:06 a.m. EST
With the release of the contestants for The Inn, the second sequel to Evenstad Media’s smash hit, The Park, people are rather surprised, and for good reason. I talked about Terrence Jacobs, a journalist for The Cruise, yesterday. His inclusion is certainly something to raise eyebrows, and get the show’s detractors all up in arms. I can’t blame them for that. The evidence is fairly strong that they wanted to silence him, but we won’t ever find out for sure. As I said,
you need to draw your own conclusions on the data that’s available.
But things don’t stop being strange there. The chances of Evenstad pulling in a recognizable name of any sort, assuming that every US citizen eighteen or older has an equal chance, are slim to say the least. But they managed to do it. Doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s got a recognizable name for good reasons, but recognizable nonetheless.
A lot of people know Jeremiah North as an adult film star who rose to pretty quick fame. I’m not going to be the one to bring you into the fold on him and his particular work, but suffice it to say that he’s got quite the online following due to his movies. But that’s not the bad part, of course. Nothing wrong with a little porn, if you ask me.
The somewhat concerning things are with his past. Now, this is only about a year and a half that we have access to anything. He was a minor before then, so none of his criminal records are public from that time, of course. But there seems to be an inordinate amount of charges leveled against him in the eighteen months we can know about. Some relatively minor things. Possession of drugs a few times, some public indecency.
But it gets a little more intense. Two counts of domestic violence, three counts of animal cruelty, and a count of blackmail. Somehow, this hasn’t ruined his following, with many fans coming to his defense in spite of crimes that would raise an outcry with any other celebrity.
His professional peers, on the other hand, have spoken out very strongly against his behaviors several times, claiming that he’s reinforcing negative stereotypes about porn stars. I can’t say that they’re wrong, either. I’d be upset in their position, I can almost guarantee.