by: Alex Richter
It was Halloween night when Tao, ever the skeptic, found himself standing outside the old amusement park at the edge of town. The place had been abandoned for years, but that never stopped the students from daring each other to sneak inside every October. Tao had always dismissed the idea as ridiculous—a haunted amusement park? Please. It was probably rats scurrying around in the dark and wind howling through the broken windows.
Tao didn’t know what happened next. Now, standing outside the rusted gates of the park, his confidence wavered. The wind whistled through the twisted metal bars, sending shivers down his spine. The moon hung low in the sky, casting shadows across the decaying rides.
Just a quick look.
He pushes through the gate and steps cautiously onto the cracked pavement. The carnival grounds stretch out like a nightmare frozen in time. The old amusement park looms ahead, a dark silhouette against the moonlit sky.
Tao pulled his hoodie tighter around himself, trying to fight off the chill in the air, but it was more than the cold that made him shiver. Something felt off. Tao had been here before, years ago, during the day. He remembered laughing with his friends, winning a stuffed animal at the ring toss, and riding the ferris wheel.
Get a grip, Tao. It’s just an empty park.
But it wasn’t. He could feel it. He knew it. There was something here–something watching him. He hesitated for a moment, considering whether he should turn back, but he wasn’t going to let his friends make fun of him for chickening out.
As he walked deeper into the park, he saw a flicker of light out of the corner of his eye. He spun around, but there was nothing there. Just shadows dancing under the dim light of the moon.
He approached the carousel, its horses frozen mid-gallop, their paint peeling and eyes staring vacantly in the distance. Once upon a time, the lights were twinkling and the music was playing. Now, it was just…sad.
A sudden noise startled him–a soft, almost rhythmic creaking, it was coming from the ferris wheel. Tao’s head snapped up, and he saw the giant wheel slowly turning, even though there was no power to make it move.
Then Tao saw it–a carriage swaying slightly as if someone was inside it. Tao squinted. He felt his breath catch in his throat when he saw a faint, pale face peering at him from the carriage window.
No way.
Tao stepped back. It couldn’t be real. But then the face smiled–a slow, eerie grin that sent a wave of terror crashing over him. His mind screamed at him to run, but his feet wouldn’t move. The ferris wheel continued to turn slowly, the carriage rocking back and forth gently as it made its way down to the ground.
The carriage finally came to a stop, and the door creaked open. For a moment, nothing happened. And then, slowly, the figure’s hand reached out and gripped the side of the door. Tao could barely breathe as he watched, waiting for whoever–or whatever–was inside to step out.
A voice whispered something, something he didn’t understand. It was soft but enough to make his blood run cold. The figure stepped out of the carriage, and as it moved into the moonlight, Tao’s eyes widened in horror; It was a human–only, it wasn’t. The face was human, but there was something wrong, something twisted about the way it moved like a puppet being jerked around by invisible strings.
“Tao,” the voice said, Tao could hear the strange echo beneath the words, like two voices were speaking at once.
Tao took a step forward, confused.
“This isn’t real,” he whispered, but he didn’t know if he was trying to convince himself or if he believed that.
Suddenly, he heard faint, distant shouts–voices calling his name. He turned, and for a moment, he thought he saw his friends in the distance, but before he could move, he felt a cold hand wrap around his wrist, tighter than he thought possible.
“No!” Tao shouted, trying to pull away, but the grip only tightened, yanking him.
The figure’s eyes glowed in the dark, its smile widening as it dragged Tao closer to the ferris wheel. The last thing he saw was the gate swinging shut, the metal bars clanging as if sealing his fate. The voices called his name, but it got drowned out by the wind, and then everything went black.
Tao was never seen again. By the next morning, the park was still, silent as ever, and the gate remained closed as if it hadn’t been disturbed in years. The ferris wheel stood motionless, the carriages empty, waiting for their next visitor.