Day 1 Part 5: End

Alan collapsed onto the bed of the Master's Suite and closed his eyes.

"I told you fire would work!" Laurel laughed.

"Is burning down half the hotel like a problem?" Alan asked.

"Probably not, and burns hurt less than bullet ant stings." Laurel collapsed onto the bed next to Alan and sighed. "Fuck it, Sky's a genius. We needed the ants to end the date on a high note."

"Ugh, how the fuck did I just have a date with my long lost mother?" Alan opened his eyes and looked at Laurel. She looked more like Alex than Ali, the same height and hair, while his grandmother was short and dyed her hair black to fit a "gothic witch" vibe.

"You met the giant snake, right?" Laurel looked sleepy. "Snake-Dads make you do weird shit..." She sounded half-asleep.

"Oh, you met Ariadne's father?" Alan was curious about that.

"Grampa-Snake's cool. Big, snaky. Gangster or something." Laurel trailed off.

"I'm happy we met." Alan reached out and stroked Laurel's hair back.

"I bet you are." Laurel was barely awake. "Best tits in Texas, thank you for those, Snake-Daddy,"

"Um, yeah." Alan blushed.

"They're for astronauts..." Laurel rambled and stopped talking, leaving Alan with his thoughts.

The handout was nearby, and Alan read it for lack of anything better to do as he felt himself unwind.

"At the game’s conclusion, any player who has neither been eliminated nor received 100 VPs required to win will be considered a loser. Losers are permanently bound to the master but not in a preferred position, and not with any rewarding transformation to ease their transition out of the game. Losers must submit to any desire of the master’s from then on."

Alan paused. Nobody should have that kind of power over someone else. Even if Alan felt he was the best person in the world, how could Laurel trust this stranger with that power? Sure, there were challenges and other ways to get VP, but he doubted it would get Laurel over the threshold.

Alan considered Laurel's options. Try another "Elimination" and hope for a better outcome. Be stuck as a **** to a near-stranger for the rest of her life. Engage in sex acts with her unwanted and suddenly-adult offspring that she hadn't known existed until yesterday.

Alan knew a part of him liked this. It wasn't a part he ever wanted to let out, but it was there. Alan closed his eyes and remembered the other side of the coin. Chloe, screaming and breaking a window. Alan and Nathan had gone on a camping trip for Alan's sixteenth birthday, and Alan had learned what happened to boys and girls at Camp Prospero. Alan had grown up on a therapy ranch for survivors.

Alan never wanted to be the reason someone hated themselves. As far as Alan had seen, it always ended with self-hate. It never stuck to hating the villain, the abuser. It always looped back on the hater and made the victim feel that they deserved it. Alan could accept someone hating him, but making someone hate themselves was the worst thing he could imagine.

Laurel was going to hate herself no matter what Alan did. The show was designed to fuck people up. It worked.

Alan lay back on the bed and fell asleep. He thought he would be up all night again, but he was sleepy

.

Christian paced in her room. Last night, Ariadne had vaped. Tonight, she played an odd electric guitar. Experiments with the instrument were jarring and unpredictable.

"Want a hit of this?" Ariadne pointed to the vape on the desk.

"I'm not up for a dragon sized dose of ****!" Christian snapped.

"That's fair." Ariadne shrugged. "You should get some sleep, babe. Tonight's a big day."

"What, for this farce?" Christian glared. "It's not like it's real, is it?"

"Huh, took you a while to question reality." Ariadne nodded. "What's your theory? Hallucination, **** trip, bad dream, or elaborate prank?"

"Purgatory." Christian admitted.

"Oh." Ariadne straightened up. "I think most people would've said hell."

"I'm not that bad!" Christian shouted. "Besides, according to near-**** experiences, prayer can be a potent defense against damnation at the critical juncture. I have been praying to several deities, including Lucifer despite the ambiguity of his categorization. That isn't working, so I'm not in hell. Purgatory is a less common belief in an absolute sense, but a common pattern across theology. This fits best as a test."

Ariadne shrugged. "It's not like you only go to one afterlife. Anyone can spin up a ghost of you if they bother and it doesn't like, use up a slot if someone already did that."

"That's fucked up." Christian shuddered.

"It's just quantum mechanics." Ariadne closed her eyes. "Man, that was a good dose of soma."

"Okay, let's leave that existential crisis for now. Why is tomorrow a big day? Alan is probably a distraction from the real mystery." Christian started pacing again.

"Here's an idea." Ariadne's fingers traced in the air and a piece of paper appeared. "Here's a treasure map. Deep dark secret of my family is somewhere in the hotel. Alan can open doors you can't. Make it a date."

"That's stupid." Christian turned to face the door.

"I need to build trust, don't I? I never said it was my secret." Ariadne smiled. "I can draw attention to dirty laundry that needs airtime if I make it a mystery, and Chloe's date is after mine. You need the hook more, too. Chloe could probably turn a wine tasting into a centaur joust without us."

"Alright." Christian took the map and looked at it. She was starting to feel excited. "I'll play along."