The Game at Carousel: A Horror Movie LitRPG

Riley Lawrence is The Film Buff

His aspect is Filmmaker.

Filmmaker: The Filmmaker has a comprehensive understanding of the filmmaking process. They can manipulate the game environment effectively, altering the game's dynamics in subtle but impactful ways. Their abilities are a mixture of meta-Insight and meta-Rule tropes. They have higher Hustle, reflecting their ability to stay out of the way, stay alive, and remain unseen as they manipulate meta-movie elements.

Riley has a Plot Armor score of 30, Mettle of 4, Moxie of 7, Hustle of 7, Savvy of 8, and Grit of 4.

Free Background Trope: "My Grandmother Had the Gift…" A background trope that gives Riley’s character some ambiguous connection to “The Gift” through his heritage.

Current Trope Limit: 9

"Trope Master" grants him the ability to perceive enemy tropes, but at the cost of sacrificing half of his Plot Armor.

As an "Oblivious Bystander," Riley remains untargeted by enemies as he convincingly acts oblivious to their presence.

“Cutaway Death” sends him Off-Screen before the moment of his character’s implied demise and allows him to exist behind the scenes Written Off if he survives the encounter.

"The Dailies” allows him to see a selection of raw footage from the day's shoot.

“Just Out of Shot” allows him to see ‘cameras’ when sneaking near an enemy to avoid being seen.

“Quiet on Set” allows the user to listen to the audio of the current On-Screen scene while Off-Screen, depending on Savvy and the information's value.

“Raised by Television” buffs the user to do one big meaningful action if they establish their inspiration from film and television to establish it.

"The Insert Shot" makes allies aware of an object the player chooses. The object will be shown to the audience and its use will be buffed in the Finale.

“Director’s Monitor” Grants the user Deathwatch upon their character’s death.

~

Kimberly Madison is The Eye Candy

Her aspect is Celebrity

Celebrity: The Celebrity aspect treats the player like an actor and the storylines like films they sign on to. Using meta tropes to create hype, fan favoritism, and larger than life roles, the Celebrity is the most versatile of the Eye Candy aspects. Using past roles to help their “career”, the Celebrity can specialize in virtually anything if they have long enough to build a career.

Kimberly has a Plot Armor score of 27, Mettle of 5, Moxie of 10, Hustle of 5, Savvy of 1, and Grit of 6.

Current Trope Limit: 9

"Convenient Backstory" allows her to believably change her backstory to assist with the current task, buffing the relevant stat.

“Does anyone have a scrunchie?” allows her to shift Moxie's points into another stat by putting her hair up.

"The Penthouse" The character will get the nicest, safest accommodations in a multiday storyline.

“The Hall of Fame” The user gains Center of Attention and will have a heightened role in the story regardless of casting. Meta story elements are more central. ȑ𝐚𝐍ǒꞖĘŠ

"Get a Room!" boosts the odds of important discoveries when exploring with a love interest during the party.

"When in Rome" buffs her Grit until Rebirth if her performance matches the tone of the movie.

"Social Awareness" allows her to see the Moxie stat of all enemies and NPCs and intuit relationship dynamics.

"Contract Negotiations" the user will get a buff to an Improvisation after "discussing" an improvisation with Carousel.

“Breaking the Veil of Silence” the user will get warnings from knowledgeable NPCs. Outside of storylines, NPCs will warn of dangers to women and hint at storyline rewards.

~

Antoine Stone is The Athlete

No aspect has been chosen.

Antoine has a Plot Armor score of 26, Mettle of 8, Moxie of 4, Hustle of 5, Savvy of 3, and Grit of 7.

Current Trope Limit: 9

"Gym Rat" buffs Mettle and Hustle by revealing athletic backstory.

Brandishing a weapon is “Like a Security Blanket,” buffing his Grit and soothing his and his allies’ fear.

"Everyone Loves a Winner" the user's character will have some previous success that endears them to NPCs. Failure reverses this.

“Stronger Together” buffs mental health and healing when the user and allies are together in a group.

"A Race Against Time" creates a rescue with a time clock that must be beaten.

“You were having a nightmare…” reduces traumatic memories to nothing but a lingering dream and can undo much of a storyline at a very high level.

“Knight in Shining Armor” buffs Mettle and Grit when defending a romantic interest.

"The Playbook" The user will be able to see when it is their turn to act in an established plan.

“Better Make it Count” greatly buffs the last round of ammunition the player has available in a fight.

~

Dr. Andrew Hughes is The Doctor

No aspect has been chosen.

Andrew has a Plot Armor score of 28, Mettle of 1, Moxie of 5, Hustle of 8, Savvy of 9, and Grit of 5.

Current Trope Limit: 9

“Step Into My Office” Sanctuary is granted while treating allies in a private scene, safeguarding all until treatment is complete based on the user’s Savvy.

“The Oath” By referencing their personal healer’s oath, the user’s Grit is buffed while treating a wounded ally.

“Observational Analysis” Observing characters before critical scenes lets the user discern their fixed personality traits, making it easier to predict their reactions if provoked.

“Let it Out” During mental trauma treatment, the patient reveals deep-seated feelings, aiding in their mental recovery but risking emotional breakdowns.

“Professional Courtesy” Characters in related professions recognize the user’s professional status, offering them helpful insights and special access.

“Absolute Focus” The user’s Hustle is enhanced when performing tasks requiring dexterity and precision, thanks to their meticulous focus.

“Critical Anatomy” Studying a creature reveals weak spots, increasing the user’s Mettle when targeting these vulnerabilities.

“The Slab” Performing a post-mortem on a corpse yields increasing information over time, with a countdown until the scene’s end.

“Study Session” If the user has the highest Savvy, they designate a “Stacks” research location where allies are safe during certain scenes and can access valuable knowledge.

~

Michael Brooks is The Soldier

No aspect has been chosen.

Michael has a Plot Armor score of 26, Mettle of 8, Moxie of 2, Hustle of 6, Savvy of 3, and Grit of 7.

Current Trope Limit: 9

“Born and Raised” A background trope that makes it so he is a local to the setting and is familiar with it, granting several equipable tropes.

“Back of My Hand” Familiarity with the setting allows the user to navigate known locations easily, with a map of key areas available.

“Live off the Land” The user knows where to find food, water, and shelter in the wild and can locate ingredients for rituals or spells if appropriate.

“Knife Rush” Rushing an enemy who has a bladed weapon gives the user a brief window of invulnerability, thanks to their Hustle.

“Nighty Night” A stealthy strike on an unaware target renders them unconscious, provided their Plot Armor is weak enough and their character wouldn’t go for the kill.

“Half a World Away” Demonstrating yearning for a distant lover bolsters the user’s Grit.

“Sold a Lie” The user can detect deceptions too good to be true and sense manipulators, even if the details are unclear.

“Basic Training” The lowest of the user’s Mettle, Hustle, and Grit stats receive a slight buff and the user may equip standard-issue soldier gear when relevant.

“You’re Wasting Your Bullets” Upon hitting an enemy without damaging them, the user gains insight into the enemy’s defenses.

“Conservation of Lead” Ammo automatically adjusts to match the user’s current firearm, converting based on weight.

~

Lila White is The Wallflower

No aspect has been chosen.

Lila has a Plot Armor score of 23, Mettle of 1, Moxie of 3, Hustle of 10, Savvy of 4, and Grit of 5.

Current Trope Limit: 8

“Bad Luck Magnet” All rolls will fail, and the user will be targeted. Allies will have the opposite happen. (borrowed from Antoine)

“A Hopeless Plea” Begging for release forces the captor to verbally deny it; if they don’t, persuasion might succeed.

“A Scream in the Distance...” A loud scream sends the user Off-Screen, allowing an ally who hears it to appear On-Screen.

“There’s Been a Murder!” Discovering a gruesome scene lets the user scream, initiating an investigative scene with applicable characters.

“Not Important Enough” Staying out of plot-critical actions keeps the user safe from intelligent enemies until the Midpoint, where they are Written-Off. Grants limited access to the script.

“Dying Last Scream” A realistic death scream sends the user Off-Screen, allowing enemies to ignore them while gaining Deathwatch and the Dead status.

“The Killer’s Wake” Playing dead during a massacre allows the user to escape safely after the scene and provides knowledge of the complete script for that scene.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“A Cry in the Dark” A cry during peril alerts nearby allies to the user’s location and status.

~

~

~

The Omen trigger for Stray Dawn was simply to bring the painting to southeastern Carousel.

It meant exactly that.

Because while we left in a group and walked in a group, as soon as we crossed the invisible barrier between Central Carousel and Southeastern Carousel, I found myself instantly transported into the driver’s seat of a 1981 Comstock Overlander, careening down the highway at 60 miles an hour.

The shock and surprise of it all almost sent me off the road into a tree.

Luckily, I wasn’t On-Screen because I cussed from sheer surprise and slammed on the brakes, leaving my car—a very long, four-door vehicle that reminded me of a Crown Victoria—spread out on the narrow road, covering both lanes.

My heart raced as I put two and two together and realized what had happened.

Then, I got distracted by something else.

Carousel took my hoodie again.

That was the first thing I noticed, and I didn’t quite mind. Instead of some generic jacket, it gave me a classy trench coat, like some noir detective. I looked around the car and saw that a folder of papers had been scattered all over the passenger seat floor from my harsh braking.

This little jump scare had stirred up a great deal of anxiety in me.

All I could do was take a deep breath and send out a silent prayer to the universe that we’d succeed on our first shot.

We had run Itch so many times that I worried it had rewired my brain to believe that these storylines were somewhat safe. But all of my instincts told me this one would be difficult. We had prepped as well as we could, but at the end of the day, werewolves were icons for a reason.

It would be a struggle.

I reached down, gathered up the scattered papers, and noticed that one of the most prominent of them was a map. Thankfully, someone had traced out my route, even marking where I was supposed to stop and where to go afterward.

They even did it in my own handwriting. How thoughtful.

We were still at the very beginning of the Party Phase, and it didn’t look like the needle on the Plot Cycle was moving at all.

I took another deep breath, letting my heart rate settle, then eased off the brake and corrected my course, heading straight down the road.

I was alone.

That meant Kimberly, Antoine, Andrew, Lila, and Michael were somewhere out there, hopefully gathering all the information we needed to understand how these werewolves worked and what we were supposed to do to survive.

All we knew for sure about the plot was that there would be a ticking clock.

With werewolves, the ticking clock usually revolved around the full moon. For some reason, that bit of information didn’t make me feel any safer.

I started about 15 miles out of town, and as I looked at the map, I realized that, geographically, nothing made sense. Based on my estimation, all of the wooded areas beside the road should have been houses and buildings within Carousel proper. But we weren’t in Carousel proper; we were on a sound stage.

I hoped to figure out what was so special about this version of Stray Dawn that it needed its own dedicated sound stage. That and a million other things could be the clue we needed to survive, and it was my job to find it. It could also be useless trivia.

As I followed the map and road, I quickly realized that this miniature version of Carousel—with one post office and a few restaurants—was surrounded by forests with names like Big Root State Park or High Mountain Reservation.

We were in the wilderness.

I shuddered to think what that might do to Antoine’s trauma, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. It wasn’t productive. We were in the thick of it; it was time to stay sharp and trust my team.

The drive into town was uneventful, though I did encounter some traffic. There was a car in front of me, a station wagon, though not the wood-panel model described by the Omen. This one had a canoe on top.

As I drove along, I noticed more cars with hints of motorsports and outdoor activities—jet skis being hauled, fishing poles packed up.

Before long, I found myself approaching a sign that read, "Welcome to Carousel. Population: 1,532."

It was so small that it didn’t even use the entirety of Southeastern Carousel as a setting.

Though I had eaten before we left, I was suddenly very hungry. I realized this just as I was about to pass a diner—a classic drive-in.

When the universe speaks, I listen. Or maybe it was Carousel speaking, but either way, I pulled into the diner and found a spot.

My only complaint was that I didn’t know if I’d have to pay out of pocket or if it would be scripted and, therefore, free. I ordered a hamburger and French fries—the cheapest thing on the menu, just in case.

The food was great, but as I sat there munching on my burger, I started leafing through the pages I’d been given. This was not unusual, especially for a Savvy-heavy player.

I recalled that Camden had, on at least two occasions, received file folders twice as thick as the one on the car seat beside me. These folders contained all the information my character should know going in, but it would be impractical for me to learn organically in the time Carousel wanted me to.

It seemed I was playing an established character, not just some rando with a goal to survive. But what did I know?

As I opened the folder, the first thing that popped out was a beautiful envelope, as classy as classy could be. It was addressed to me, though it didn’t have a stamp or anything.

I set my burger down, grabbed the envelope, and opened it, watching a bunch of 80s teenagers running around the parking lot, squirting water guns at each other.

The letter was quite informative. I read it three times over, trying to absorb as much as I could.

Witherhold Manor

Carousel, October 14, 1986

Dearest Mr. Riley Lawrence,

How does one pen a letter to Riley Lawrence—the Riley Lawrence—documentarian of the otherworldly, chronicler of the unfathomable? I do hope this note finds you not tangled in some remote marsh or mid-interview with a spirit medium, as it seems to me such circumstances would be your natural element.

My name is Egan Kirst. Perhaps you’ve heard it tossed around corporate circles, or perhaps not, as the supernatural intrigues me far more than boardrooms ever could. Recently, I happened upon your stirring piece on Appalachian black dogs and, dare I say, the incomparable footage you captured of that skunk ape down in Okeechobee. Exquisite work, truly. You capture the elusive with an artist’s eye, as though these shadows and creatures trust you in ways they trust no other. To put it plainly, I was hooked—though my tastes do run toward the macabre, as it happens.

Now, allow me to propose an invitation most peculiar. I am hosting a gathering on the evening of October 31st here at Witherhold Manor in Carousel Five o’clock, an estate as steeped in mystery as it is in mildew. The manor has been left much as it was—rambling halls, crumbling walls, a touch of fogged-over history. It would be my utmost delight to welcome you here as our guest of honor and, dare I say, principal storyteller. I am gathering individuals with a discerning ear for the bizarre, and none could hold a candle to your chronicles, Riley—especially on the matter of werewolves.

As I’m sure you’re aware, Witherhold carries a certain… odor of lycanthropic lore, tales murkier than the manor’s dusty halls. If you’re inclined, I would like you to share your findings, your theories, perhaps even your footage of the elusive half-men. You’ll be handsomely compensated, of course—$3,500 for the evening, with full arrangements for travel and accommodations. While humble, they come with the peculiar promise of proximity to uncharted mysteries. And I assure you, Riley, this estate has an energy that few places possess.

Do consider this, won’t you? If the prospect tempts you as much as I suspect, please send your reply with my courier. The 31st approaches and I feel the timing could not be more curious—nor the moon’s light more… telling.

Yours in restless anticipation,

Egan Kirst

CEO, KRSL Corporation

Host of Witherhold Manor

~

That was my kind of setup—a mysterious invitation to an old mansion. There was something about the purity of it that I liked.

What I found even more interesting was that after I read the letter, something appeared on the red wallpaper for me. They were a collection of titles in the form of mental VHS tapes, which I realized I could play on command, just as I could any of my past storylines.

They were my character’s documentaries.

I zoomed through them, listening occasionally. If there was something important, I would be able to research through these, but I had to believe that a five-minute clip of a skunk ape wasn’t going to help me with werewolves—especially when the skunk ape kind of just looked like a black bear.

I did get good footage of the Appalachian black dogs, though. They were definitely dogs, and the surrounding narration describing the history of black dogs in folklore was riveting. But I decided not to watch the whole thing—I got the gist of it. I was a hack documentarian, piecing together a bunch of interviews with people who claimed to see things of a supernatural nature.

Wonderful.

I tried to put myself in the mind of such a man, and it came naturally enough. I had to remember that in this world, the supernatural was real, so I probably wasn’t a crackpot. I had to avoid whatever instinct I might have to play the character as an eccentric and instead play him as a skeptic who just happens to live in a world where everything is true.

It was truly the acting challenge of my lifetime.

The other slips of paper in the folder were newspaper copies, like the kind you would make at a public library. Apparently, my character had been doing some research into this Egan Kirst fellow.

What was it with names that were so on the nose? First Geist, and now Kirst. Apparently, the audience didn’t need subtlety.

The articles basically painted my future dinner host as a real bastard—or at least, that was the general tone they set.

Westward Business Review

July 19, 1981

"Trouble Brewing on Solmira Coast? Speculation Mounts over Kirst’s Overseas Tactics"

Reports from Solmira Coast suggest that Egan Kirst, CEO of KRSL Corporation, may be engaging in ruthless tactics to secure local resources. Rumors imply that Kirst’s operations are displacing communities, sparking unrest in the area.

One insider claims Kirst’s focus on control and expansion leaves little room for local welfare: “He’s got no qualms about who he pushes out,” they commented. While KRSL representatives deny any wrongdoing, sources close to Solmira say Kirst’s approach has raised eyebrows and concerns about his corporate ethics.

I read through all the articles but I didn't see anything that jumped out at me as a clue. They had similar titles to the first one.

Industrial Observer

August 2, 1976

"KRSL CEO Accused of Overrunning Local Businesses in Aggressive Acquisition Spree"

…

Global Industry Digest

September 10, 1979

"KRSL Under Fire: Kirst Faces Backlash Over Environmental Neglect Allegations"

…

Market Watch Weekly

November 3, 1984

"Kirst’s KRSL Hit with Worker Protests: CEO Remains Unmoved by Demands"

…

After Itch, I really did not want to think about an evil corporation again, and I sincerely hoped that wouldn’t be featured heavily in this storyline, too.

Another article in the folder was copied from a book and featured a small blurb about the mansion I was headed toward.

An Anthology of Historic Estates and Manors

Published 1962

Witherhold Manor, Carousel

Built in the early 1800s, Witherhold Manor is one of Carousel’s oldest structures, bearing elements of both Gothic Revival and early Federalist architecture. The manor’s original owner, a minor local official whose name has since been lost, reportedly abandoned the estate after only a few years, a mystery to which no historical documentation offers any insight. Witherhold’s worn stone facade, unlit corridors, and overt signs of neglect have become somewhat iconic in local memory, with a prominent iron gate that remains locked to this day.

The manor’s long history is marked by an unusual resistance to renovation or modern alteration. Though attempts to restore the grounds have surfaced over the years, each effort seems to stall, as if prevented by an invisible force. Local lore attributes the manor’s eerie preservation to “unsettled energies,” “haunting howls,” and “unseen inhabitants,” though no credible evidence of paranormal activity has been recorded. Nonetheless, Witherhold Manor remains a source of fascination, enduring as both a historic landmark and an enigma to Carousel’s residents.

~

Finally, I had a flyer picked up from somewhere I didn't know about the summer season in Carousel or at least this miniature version of Carousel.

Carousel Flyer

May 01, 1986

"Carousel Kicks Off the Season: Town and Trails Open Up for Summer"

Carousel is officially ready to welcome back locals and visitors for another exciting summer season! With nearby state parks and nature preserves now open, outdoor enthusiasts can look forward to favorite activities like hiking, river floating, and camping…

It went on for a while, just explaining all of the fun activities that could be done in this revamped version of the horror town I knew. Strangely, as I looked around, the lighting and the tone reminded me a lot of Camp Dyer.

But that was it—that was the end of the freebies. Every other clue, I would have to get on my own.

The first insight I managed to pick up was from a young blonde woman sitting in a parked convertible in a motel parking lot across the street. She was talking to a tall man dressed like he was ready to employ some guerrilla war tactics.

It was Kimberly and Antoine, and I could see on the red wallpaper that they were On-Screen. We had discussed some ideas about how we would work our characters together, and they decided to go with a classic they hadn’t used in a while—a romantic angle.

I could almost hear what they were saying right now.

“Oh my goodness, Antoine, I haven’t seen you in so long, but the feelings inside still burn hot.”

“I feel the same way, Kimberly. If only we could get over our individual baggage and reconnect at this spooky dinner, we were both invited to. See my envelope?”

“You have an envelope? I have an envelope too, see? What a coincidence.”

“We can’t get along too well this early. Let’s leave the audience wanting more and leaving a little bit unsaid, my love.”

“Yes, my big tough hero. Please look at me with your big, brooding eyes one last time.”

Before they departed, Antoine gave Kimberly a very meaningful last look before walking back to his truck and driving off down the road, followed by Kimberly, now Off-Screen.

Ahem…

Everything was going according to plan.

I put my papers back in the passenger seat. I wanted to get out and talk to some of the locals, but time was running tight. I barely had time to eat and read, and according to my character’s wristwatch, it was time to head out and follow the last leg of the journey on the map to a location I could only assume was Witherhold Manor.

I had to hope that, in the same way I was given a lot of information in both film and text format, Kimberly and Antoine had had time to explore the town and talk to the locals. We would have to compare notes when we got there.

I put my car in reverse and tried to pull out of my parking space—the carhop never asked me for money, for the record.

Somehow, and I swear this wasn’t my fault, as I started to pull out, I almost hit a group of people.

I’d say they were around my age, maybe a little younger, some a little older.

They came out of nowhere, and I realized that it wasn’t me who did it because as I was about to curse in surprise again, I noticed I was On-Screen.

My character was supposed to be running into these people. Or, almost running into them, rather.

I scanned the crowd as they looked at me in disgust as if I were some sort of crazed driver who had almost killed them, even though I was fairly certain it was a scripted interaction. One of them was flipping me off with both fingers.

They were dressed like hikers, taking advantage of a very warm October, one last breath of summer. But there was something off. I looked them up and down, catching fleeting details that didn’t quite add up. They all had real names—no placeholders or default NPC tags—and a little too much attitude for random extras. They seemed ordinary enough at first glance, but I sensed a kind of restlessness, an alertness that didn’t match the casual camping attire.

The guy who flipped me off was big, tall, and wild-looking, with a roughness that could have belonged to an outlaw or a vagrant. His name was Frank. No last name, no need for one, apparently. He held my gaze a little longer than necessary, like he was daring me to try something.

For all intents and purposes, they looked like standard campers, but they seemed to bristle with a hostility that didn’t sit right. As they made their way to the tables at the restaurant I was leaving, they kept glancing back at me, muttering and glaring, their eyes tracking my every move.

I pulled out a little slower this time, and instead of saying something hard-headed or brash, I just gave them a little wave as if to say sorry, though that did very little to improve their opinion of me. I pulled out of the gravel parking lot and back onto the thin highway as I drove further up the mountain.

Funny enough, I realized that was the mountain. It was the same one that KRSL Powerworks Pavilion was on, and I recognized its shape and general height.

I drove down the road, looking for any other piece of information, but I found none. Perhaps the town itself wasn’t a big part of the setting for this story.

Only time would tell.

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