Stepping off of the Devil's Lost Playground one reached what could be considered the penultimate peril, only one of two attractions in the park bordered only on one side by the event. Dr. Moreau's Creature Zoo was a peninsula as well, but it had the Children's zoo attached, and was close to the entrance. Regardless of the distance from the beasts it was easy to feel like the prey, especially given that anyone who wandered into this sectioned off portion was indeed prey. There was movement, too quick to catch what had dashed through bushes and other greenery that had been brought in. Thanks to well hidden speakers you were surrounded by sustained atonal chords that built the tension of the air until you could feel it closing in on you and then, randomly, cut to complete silence. It was meant to keep you on edge just enough that when Jason came out from one of the well planned shadows with his chainsaw you'd jump and scream, but not enough to cause an embarrassing accident. The scenery blended effortlessly from the lush and dark vegetation needed for werewolves, to the bleak and post-apocalyptic zombieland. Pyramid Head walked alongside costumed park goers with his great knife dragging behind. You didn't have to be asleep to see Freddy Kruger. Everywhere you went you could encounter the monsters and killers of your favorite horror flicks and see the blond girl run in terror with high heeled shoes on, jocks with their jackets laying 'dead' on the sidelines, and every port-a-john had a fake hook hanging off the knob. The smell of gasoline filled the air, along with severed fingers (hot dogs), Leatherhead's jerky, and puss (popcorn). All the writers in Hollywood could not create a more perfect blend of horrors.

You could throw a baseball and try to knock over It clowns or burlap bag Thomas's to win your own Chucky or Tiffany doll, Kujo, or Pinhead pincushion. If the games did not interest you, there was a bat themed Hang Glider ride where you could dip and soar through the air like a creature of the night. The real main attraction of Horror Movie Mayhem was a haunted house maze that ran the gambit of horror films, from Nosferatu through Black Sheep and beyond. Slasher, psychological thriller, B rated. All genre of horror films melded together and were served with scarlet cherry slushies from a bed fountain of 'blood'.

Henrietta walked through the crowds, nervously glancing at the people dressed up as horror movie characters. She wore a costume of the ragdoll, Sally, from the Nightmare Before Christmas. Her face was painted to make it look like it was stitched together and a line extended from either side of her mouth to make her mouth look larger, and less human. Her brown hair was straightened and looked even longer than usual. It swished from side to side as she walked in her black, slightly high-heeled shoes. Stopping next to a food stand, the girl spun in a small circle, trying to see if she could recognize anyone she knew.

Usually, Henrietta May Braun was a big fan of horror. She read many scary books and loved horror movies, especially the type with weird monsters or creepy ghosts. But tonight, it seemed, all of the horrible sights surrounding her just made her want to go back home. She took a deep breath and walked over to a bench where it appeared a scarecrow was sitting. Carefully, the girl perched beside it and watched masses of people pass by. She admired all the different costumes and ideas people had come up with. It seemed that Halloween was great at bringing the creative, fun side out of people. A giggle escaped from her when she spotted a grown man dressed as Barney.

As she continued her stay on the bench, she felt like she was being watched. She slowly turned and glanced at the scarecrow, now wondering if it was a costume. After looking for a few moments, Henri rolled her eyes and began watching people again. She propped her arms on her knees and then rested her head on her hands. Something shifted next to her again. When she turned to look at the scarecrow again, it was right in her face and let out a shrill laugh. Henrietta let out a small scream and jumped off the bench.

The scarecrow’s hands reached for its head, and then took off the pumpkin that had been its skull. A young teenage boy laughed hysterically as he looked at the shocked expression on the brunette’s face. Henri gulped, still nervous, but then picked up a stuffed animal that someone had left on the ground near the bench and threw it at him. It wouldn’t hurt him of course, but it did make the girl feel much better. Turning away from him so quick that her hair almost whipped him in his face, she walked off with her head held high and a lump in her throat.

It might look like a nightmare, but for Locke, Horror Movie Mayhem was a dream. He was never really one of those movie buff people that could answer trivia questions, spotted the goofs, and he couldn't do the whole five degrees off Bacon. If you were to ask him to name what was out in the theaters chances would be he'd only know of one, maybe two flicks. Yet if you played the first five seconds of a song the Californian could tell you which horror movie it was the soundtrack for, and if you said a character's name from them he'd be able to say what that character was in. At first he watched horror and psychological thrillers as a way to agitate Kendra. He had to argue and fight with her to watch things that his dad had no qualms with, simply because he did not meet the age recommendations for things. His own maturity level apparently didn't count for much. Still, the more Locke managed to watch horror and psychological thriller films, the more he grew to love them. Freud would have a field day with what that meant about him.

It was for Horror Movie Mayhem alone that Locke wanted to come to Terror-Fest. What horror movie fan wouldn't seize the chance to see Freddy, Jason, Dracula, and a werewolf all together without some pathetic plot that ultimately lessened the epicness of the characters? He didn't bother stopping in any other areas of Central Park. Zombies, mad scientists, devils, they all could belong here, and the chances of running into them were just as high here as in the rest of the park right? There were two reasons why he forked over the money to actually go to it rather then hear about it a day later. The first was that Locke actually enjoyed Halloween. It was a holiday in which, when you are young at least, you get sweets. Sure Easter had the chocolate bunnies and Christmas had presents, but if you ruled out the commercialness of the holidays, you were left with a celebration of a religion that Locke could not agree with. In fact there were only a handful of good holidays that Locke could support fully. Halloween, Thanksgiving, and the Fourth of July. You didn't have to lie and say you believed in a higher power to put on a costume and get enough Kit-Kat bars to make you blow chunks. The second reason why Locke had paid money was that there had been a time when he was a child in a hospital. He was fortunate enough not to have a terminal illness, but he had been in critical condition. Being in a hospital as a kid when there is something serious and dangerously wrong with you is painful enough, but no child should have to worry about how their parents will be able to get them better.

With the pig mask pulled down over his face and the black full length hooded jacket with red accents Locke almost looked as though he was one of the people working in this section. One of his birthday presents from back west had been a copy of Jigsaw's coat from his favorite film series and a pig mask. It wasn't the Billy the puppet costume that you saw everywhere, nor was it just a pig mask and the cheap coat that his apprentaces wore. Eaan had found someone who sewn together actual fabric into THE coat that Jigsaw wore when sneaking away from the police. Locke hated the store bought costume where the coat looked more like it belonged in a kinky magazine then a masterpiece psychological thriller. As far as the mask went... ok, that was just a store bought one, but it was still pretty wicked sweet.

Probably the best thing about the coat though was that it was keeping him warm, and with the mask on Locke found himself quite toasty for a change. He lurked his way through the crowd, just enjoying himself, and found himself watching a Sally get frightened by a scarecrow and then throw something at said scarecrow. There was something familiar about her, and it wasn't until Locke closed his eyes and felt out with his earth sense did he recognize it as Henrietta, who he had pretty much tried to avoid since she lead him to the Institute. He had been tired and cranky and afterwords too shy to try and apologize. Still it was nice to feel a friendly footstep in the crowd and he headed over, taking warning from the event he just witnessed and pulling his mask up. "Nice costume choice. The hair really sells it."

The brunette was no longer scared, just mad at her own fear. She wasn’t sure why she had felt so scared. They were just people dressed up in costumes, like she was, but she kept imagining that one of those disguised humans was actually one of those terrifying villains. She knew that it couldn’t be, but part of her stomach still flipped at the thought. Henri had watched enough horrors movies to practically be able to tell you what was going to happen next. Creepy music would come on and the girl would feel that excited feeling that something twisted was about to happen.

Her arms were crossed over her chest and she gazed out grumpily at the people walking by. She saw the boy in the scarecrow costume glance at her warily before running passed her. That made her smirk a little and she felt her spirits rise. Someone in a mask that looked like rotting flesh walked by and then jumped at the girl. This time, instead of being scared, she waved and said “boo”. The person tilted their head to the side in confusion and then shrugged before walking away. She tapped her foot lightly against the ground with a grin on her face. Henrietta hummed the song “Won’t Get Fooled Again” by The Who.

As she stood by herself, someone with a mask walked toward her, but began to pull it up as they did so. When the person reached her, she knew it was Locke. Henri had met him when he had first arrived in New York and he was sitting on a bench, alone. The girl remembered him as being grumpy and a bit rude. She had gotten annoyed with him, but felt bad and showed him to the Mansion. It was weird, but she had never run into him, though they had been living in the same house. She felt her eyes widen a bit with surprise when he got to her and complimented her one her costume. “Uh, thanks.”

She glanced at his mask and then smirked. “Let me guess, Saw was your inspiration, right? Those are pretty good movies, twisted, but that’s what makes horror movies awesome.” Henrietta uncrossed her arms and placed one hand on her hip, but not in an intimidating way. It was more to relax than anything. “It’s good to see you, Locke. How have you been? Good, I hope.” A smile spread across her freckled face and it made her blue eyes wrinkle slightly. “You must be a big fan of horror as well. That’s cool. I love creepy, weird stuff. I’m pretty big into horror stories too.” The girl gathered her hair in her hands and put it over her shoulder.

Take a deep breath,[/i] Locke reminded himself. Halloween is a night filled with possibilities That was part of why it was such a great holiday, especially when you're young and imagination hasn't been put away and replaced with logic. Of course the dry ice pouring out from the plastic cauldron, and the green faced witch weren't real, but it was fun to pretend that it was, and that you escaped having a curse placed on you. Locke had long ago stopped dreaming up wild stories, following the path of logic instead, but on a night like tonight he could pretend that he wasn't such an idiot. He'd managed a conversation before. This time he wasn't jet lagged (train lagged?) and more adjusted to the time zone he was in. It also helped that he was no longer cramped and stiff from a long ride. The warmer weather combined with the warmth of his coat put him in a better mood. Nine months was a long time. Hopefully, and for a change Locke was hopeful, they could act as if nothing had happened.

"Birthday present actually. Got to love crazy friends. But yeah, Saw. Great series not onlyfor the disturbing factor, but excellent writing, well developed characters and genius mechanics. Put of what makes them so great is trying to figure the tests out." He was able to relax now that they were talking about his favorite movie, especially since she liked them too. When he mentioned them to Twyla she had been slightly revolted, not getting that it wasn't the gore that made them great. It made him feel almost like he was wicked for liking the series. Then again maybe Twyla was just a big Princess Bride fan and didn't want to think about Westley being chained up, psychologically abused. "Last year I just got a green mylar balloon and tied it to my shirt tag."

He stepped out of the way of a clown that was as round as Violet Beauregarde after she chomped on the gum. One of the great things about this Terror-Fest was that there weren't people who cheaped out and wore their normal clothes and said that they were a dead person. Locke's sim costume wasn't far from that, but he hadn't been the one trick-or-treating and it helped his little siblings find him should they get separated. There were astonishing costumes, store bought, rented, and home-made. "I've been good. You?" he asked walking, hoping that she would keep moving. There was a well up ahead and he wanted to see if Samara would come crawling out of it.

Central Park – Angel at the Water Fountain

Christanna Addams, only twelve years old, with curly red hair and a pale face covered in freckles glowered as she slowly walked behind a slow moving older couple. One of them was dressed as the classic, Bela Lugosi Dracula while the other, a blonde woman was dressed as a Princess and seemed to have trouble keeping up with the man. Christianna was only too happy to be so far behind them. It was not as if they would notice anyway. After all, did they even care about the costume she chose for this evening? Did they even care that their twelve year old daughter was running around, dressed in a gauzy, midnight blue dress with a flowing train? Or that she wore her best gold jewelry and had a circlet of fake little blue jewels around her brow? No they paid no heed to the fact that she just spent weeks making her own costume based after Nyx, Goddess of the Night and Dreams! No, the only time they cared was when –

“Christianna!” the Dracula, also known as Gerald Addams shouted as he stood under the arch and glared at his daughter. “Pick up your feet! We’re already late!”

“Come on, don’t yell at her tonight,” the blonde pleaded as she stood under the arch and sighed with exasperation at her husband.

Gerald Addams only seemed to growl as he grabbed the woman by her arm and spun her hard. The man, the great contributor to the city, the whole corridinator for this event, in that moment, looked more demonic than the creature he attempted to portray. His teeth ground, fake fangs bared as he tightened his grip on the woman and then finally let her go.

“You don’t speak back to me,” he said and shot a dagger-like glare at the Christanna. “And you, keep up. We’re late enough as it is and I will not be embarrassed.”

Christanna sniffled a little as she wiped a tear from her cheek. There was nothing she could say so she merely followed them further into the park.

The park around was oppressive with the darkness. Around every corner, under every rock and behind every tree, was a choking darkness that seemed like an entity enticing them to come closer. They beckoned, whispered through the wind that rustled the leaves, that tonight was a night where they could be anyone, do anything, and act in any way that they pleased. But even as the music and flashing lights of the far away festivities drew closer with each step, the joy and imagination was lost on one particular girl. Christianna only wanted to go home now, lock herself in her room and fall asleep to the music on her ipod. Being here only meant one thing, listening to her father’s inane acceptance speech for putting on this charity.

It’s all a lie, she mumbled as he absently rubbed her arm where it had once been fractured. The cool October air must be making it sore.

As they were closer to their destination, she spied a couple of more people in costume now scattered about. They were getting in the midst of the groups. She saw wolfmen, monsters, famous historical figures, fictional characters, even an appliance or food costume or two. Then she was nearly startled when a tall, thin man jumped out at her, grinning and laughing in a wheezing manner. The man was odd to say the least, dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans with thick, coke bottle glasses. The shirt had some writing on it that looked like the letters, M-R-O flared it white across it. But the oddest thing came when the man laughed and held out what looked like a ball of string.

“Wanna thread?!”

Christanna, too shocked for words suddenly began to laugh hysterically. The man was so ridiculous looking that she could not help herself! But that joy was short lived. Before long her father reappeared and snatched her away roughly. He growled even more inhumanly as he glared down at the young girl.

“What is wrong with you?! I told you we were in a hurry! Stop wasting my time!!” With each sentence his grip tightened considerably on her already sore arm.

Christianna, unable to take it anymore, simply screamed out, tears flooding her face as a massive migraine set in. She yelled out as she shoved her father backward with her tiny hands and took a couple of weak steps backward, unable to contain her sobs and tears anymore. She gasped heavily as she raised her hand and pointed accusingly at him, running the sore spot on her arm with her free hand.

“You’re a lie! You’re nothing but a lie!!!!”

As she screamed the last word, a sudden glow began to emit from her forehead. Another massive headache struck her and this was more painful than the last, something which she could not contain anymore. Her emotions bubbled up to a frenzy, Christanna ground her teeth to the point that she could swear she heard one or two breaking then…as the beautiful white light around her forehead reached it’s apex…she screamed.

Her voice was dry and hoarse as it echoed out through the trees and struck the ears of any and all within range. She could not stop yelling, especially as the light from her forehead grew in intensity before it exploded, a burst of magnificent, spider-webbing white light that erupted from this single person like an all encompassing blanket. It spread out, farther and farther, growing whiter and bright as it enveloped any in its path. There was no escape, no running, it rolled over the green grass like a swift moving fog with only one thought in mind…expand…

Expand…

EXPAND…

And in an instant, as this fog of fast moving white light reached the edges of Central Park, having covered all of the festivities, it suddenly WHOOOOOSHED!!! backward and condensed into the single body of Christianna. The girl was thrown off her feet and fell backward. She groaned painfully as she stared up at the sky in shock, wondering what that pain she felt was and why…why did her head buzz like a honeycomb now? She shook as she stood up, weakly and feebly, and glanced around her.

“H-Hello?” she asked nervously. “M-Mom? Dad?”

She crept forward, unable to believe her eyes. Everyone she could see, everyone inside the park, including her parents, simply stood there. Unmoving, unresponsively, the people she could see seem to be staring there in a daze, staring wide-eyed up at the sky with the only movement being their shallow in and out take of breath. It looked like something from a horror movie…and just like any horror movie, Christanna screamed…and ran somewhere…anywhere as people continued to stare up in the sky blankly.

Henrietta was glad to act like nothing had happened between her and Locke. It had been a bad day for both of them the first time they met. Of course, her day hadn’t been too bad until he got grumpy, but that was fine. It had been hard for him to just show up in a new place and not knew where anything was. The brunette hadn’t held a grudge. She had never been very good at that and she always thought people deserved a second chance, even if whatever happened the first time was decently bad or awkward.

Their first encounter hadn’t been enough to scare Henri Braun away and he obviously wanted to make the effort, since he came to her. She wouldn’t have ever recognized him with the mask on, so he could’ve snuck away no problem if he had felt like it. The brunette grinned as they discussed Saw. It was nice to have a common interest. It made conversations so much easier. “I really do like the characters in those movies. They’re very good at making you feel connected to them and like you know them. I like that in a movie, though when everyone is killed off, it’s a bit sad after you know them for around 2 hours.” She laughed at what she said and then at his costume last year, but not in a teasing way. “Very nice. I wasn’t anything last year, though if I had the option, I would’ve loved to be some sort of scary faerie thing. I’m not really into being overly cutesy for Halloween, considering its background and purpose nowadays.”

He asked how she was, but started moving. It felt like she was supposed to follow, so she did. The girl walked a few steps behind the boy through the crowd. He was heading toward a well. Henrietta smirked, wondering if he was thinking about the movie “The Ring”. “I’m glad you’ve been good. I’ve been okay myself. A few weird things happened here and there, but I’m fine no-“ Something happened. She wasn’t sure what, but something felt weird. Without realizing it, her head tilted backward to look at the sky.

Henri’s breath continued along with all her other bodily functions, but her mind was blank and she continued to look upwards, as if in a daze.

“Halloween is kind of a big deal back home. Either I stay at home and pass out candy while watching horror movies or go out with my sibs and make sure that they don’t get lost or kidnapped. If I let Kendra go with them they wouldn’t get to go to the houses they wanted. She’d be too clingy.” Of course all the houses and costumed people back in San Francisco had nothing on this. Locke couldn’t wrap his brain around the extravagance of it all, and it was a pity that it was for such a short time. Those that were involved in the presentation of Terror-Fest had made a great commitment. What a waste of such hard work. “As big as it is there, I think I might like New York’s better. Have you tasted the apples here? They’re so juicy and sweet. It’s like having a tidal wave happen in your mouth.” Food was something that he found himself enjoying a great deal on the east coast. It had never been something that he gave a great deal of thought to before other than what could he make to eat. Things were made differently here, and Buffalo sauce tastes infinitely better when it is actually from Buffalo. Of course Taco Bell tasted the same no matter where you were.

Henri got Saw. “Yeah, even the worst of them you get attached to, if nothing else because you want to see them be the next to go. I hated Amanda. Don’t know why exactly, maybe because she was too obsessed with Jigsaw, or that she was always so messed up. Have you seen the latest one?” He asked in hopes that she would be able to tell him if it managed to uphold the good name of Saw. Between his vacation and working on his mutation Locke just didn’t get a chance to go see it. It did not help that he was rather limited on his funds. Before he could get his answer though Locke was thrown into his own weird situation. It seemed that every time Locke went into New York City he encountered a bigger misadventure. His head started tilting back, like he still was wearing that balloon and it was tied to his head. Amazing how a crowd will all do the same thing without realizing it. Rather than question why everyone stopped walking Locke did what the crowd did. Was his brain melting? It felt that way because all that there was there was this question feeling.

Henrietta didn’t have a chance to answer any of his questions. She stared up at the sky still, nothing in particular running through her mind. It felt like information was being leeched from her brain and she found herself starting to feel confused. It seemed as though she was missing something important. Wait, who exactly is ‘she’ anyway? She had a name, Henri knew that, but she didn’t know that her name was actually Henrietta May Braun. In fact, she didn’t remember much of anything about herself. She was surprisingly unalarmed.

After a few moments, the girl blinked and tilted her head so it was symmetrical with the ground. Her blue eyes scanned the area, trying to figure out where she was. Of course, it may be easier to figure out where she was, if she knew who she is. Hmm, I need clues. Instinctively, her line of sight went to her clothes. She looked like a ragdoll. Did she know a ragdoll? Was she really a ragdoll? For some reason, the name “Sally” popped out in her mind. Sally was a ragdoll, right? Therefore, she must be Sally. It was the only thing that really made sense. It seemed logical enough and after all, being able to call herself any type of name would be nice.

‘Sally’ turned and looked at the boy she was standing near. Her eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. Did she know him? Had she come here with him? Did he know who she was?! She felt herself get excited and stared at him, blinking every couple seconds, waiting for him to stop looking up. Wait, why was he looking up? She tilted her head back once again and then shrugged. The brunette didn’t see anything up there. Looking at all the other people, she realized they were all looking up to. “Humans are weird.” That seemed right, she was a ragdoll after all, how was she supposed to understand a bunch of humans?

John Locke posed the theory that a person's identity is not established by simply the physical traits, or even personality traits, but rather through memories. It is the "sameness of memories" that solidifies a personal identity. So when Locke Tori's memories faded away he was indeed a new person, just as everyone there that evening no longer were who they had originally been. He turned about, looking at the people surrounding him. Everything on the left side was gone, there was no peripheral vision. Without the memories of the hospital, and the doctors speaking over him, this sudden darkness did not strike terror in his heart. It frightened him of course, but there were more pressing issues to attend to.

In his gloved hands rested a mask. Locke studied it, knowing that there was something about the pig face with hair that he knew. His own memories, ones about his life, were blanked out right now, but this mask was related to something that he just could not forget about. A girl at his side, who he recognized the image of, but not the person herself. She looked like a child's plaything, something that he could make. He'd made a doll like thing before. Jigsaw drifted to his brain. It explained the mask somehow, and why he knew he could make dolls. The impaired vision might be a result of the cancer. The medical jargon would explain things better if he had the time to listen to such things. His time was limited, and there was much to accomplish, much to teach. "Humans are weird" the girl dressed as a doll said. Locke put the mask on. "Not weird, just unaware" Ironic that she said that.

The man that was standing beside ‘Sally’ put a pig mask on. She narrowed her eyes slightly and the paint on her face cracked. Some of her real skin color shone through and her blue eyes watched the man as he spoke. He said humans weren’t weird, just unaware. Henri shrugged in a kind-of childish way and tilted her head. “Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean they’re any easier to understand. When I first came to, everyone was staring at the sky. I feel like I’ve forgotten something.” Her head still stayed at an angle.

“Do you? Do you feel like something is missing from your mind? It’s like I’m missing some of my stuffing.” She brought her pointer finger up to her head and poked the right side of her head. “Or maybe I was put together wrong.”

He paused for a moment, studying this person who failed to realize her own humanity, judging if she was unaware of the value of life, specifically her own. In order for any of his lessons to be taught properly he had to go on his base instincts of human nature, and apply a great deal of thought to the social and psychological tendencies that affected his subjects actions in any given situation. There was the most basic desire to survive, but did she have it?

Locke Jigsaw thought that she did. Her responses was not the pleading of someone who cried out that they wanted life but were too afraid to take action to keep it, nor was it a narcotic driven nonsense. She had pointed out how everyone had been staring at the sky, an action he had the muscle memory of doing. This girl was under the clear impression that she was, it would seem, an over-sized rag doll. What compelled her to continue this lie to herself was unclear.

In spite of what the police might say about his actions, Jigsaw was a compassionate man, or at the very least his actions had been driven by a passion. This disillusion girl had done no wrong to the best of his recollection and needed a type of help that he was unable to provide. He could give someone the value of a life, wake them up as a new person, but he could not remind someone of who they really were without knowing that himself. "Your face is chipping,"Locke told her. If he was unable to help her, the least that he could do was to give her directions on what to do next. Taking her with him was not an option. "Go to someplace safe and stay there." Funny how Locke's normal voice suited the role he now found himself in.

It was not much to go off of. Safe was a relative term for someone who had given in to madness, but for him to lock her away when she had not done anything wrong would be cruel. He began to slip away into the crowd, being mindful of his blind spot. The doctors were all the ones with the medical knowledge, but he knew that if he was having such a problem then he should be feeling much more weak. Perhaps he was missing something like the doll girl had suggested. There was surprisingly little in his short term memory, a mystery that he now had to solve before continuing in his own work. As a comfort there was more in his long term memory. He could remember Jill the clinic, waiting in the car, and the first game with Cecil. Other memories were there, but for some reason they were jumbled. He recalled the long stillness of Adam and Doctor Laurence's test, but that memory was followed by the preparation for it long after he had pronounced "Game over". The design of his life was not matching the numbers, and he had to make sure that his own self was secure before he could continue to teach.



((Sorry to leave you hanging Henri, but I need to get Locke over to the Angel of the Waters Fountain. It was great posting with you again and I look forward to seeing what 'Sally' does next.))

((It’s cool, Locke. I’ll be fine. I had fun too, we’ll have to do it again sometime.))

The girl-turned-ragdoll tilted her head when the man pointed out that her face was chipping. Her pale hand came to her cheek and tried to feel for what he had told her about. Something felt kind of flakey, so she pulled her hand back to look at it. There was paint on it. Her brows furrowed together in confusion. She had never heard of a ragdoll losing its face before. “Hmmm. I know that limbs fall off sometimes, but I never thought my face could do that. It’s unexpected and a bit puzzling.”

The man with the pig mask told ‘Sally’ to hide and he walked off. She frowned, wondering where he was going and why she couldn’t come with, but he scared her a bit so she would do as he suggested. As she turned to search for somewhere to go, her long, brown hair whipped around behind her. The doll spotted something that looked like a bathroom building. It was small, but looked big enough to hide in. Maybe she could lock herself in and wait for whatever was going on to pass.

Whatever was going on, part of Henrietta knew something was wrong. It felt like she was forgetting something. She also didn’t feel like she could be a ragdoll, but it was all she had to go on, so it would have to do. Sighing, the confused girl began to make her way towards the bathroom. She really hoped there was no one in there because all the people were acting strangely, and she wasn’t sure how they would react.

Slowly, the brunette began to creep towards the small building. Her eyes moved back and forth rapidly. When she was in sprinting distance of the bathroom, she took off running. She made it to the door and saw the men’s sign, but didn’t care. The girl just didn’t want to be out in the open anymore. As soon as she opened the door and stepped in, she pushed it shut behind her and locked it. Next, she made sure there was no one in with her. Finally, she crawled into one of the stalls and locked that door behind her.