My summer was officially a disaster. And it was all my dad’s fault.
You see, my dad has this thing for "new experiences." Last year, it was a two-week camping trip where the only new experience I had was learning how many different kinds of mosquito bites a person can get. (The answer is a lot. A whole lot.)
This year, he’d outdone himself.
It all started last Tuesday. I was in my room, trying to beat the final level of Galaxy Raiders 9, when Dad burst in. He was waving a brochure in his hand, a wild grin plastered on his face. That grin always meant trouble.
“Guess what, family!” he boomed. My little sister, Maya, who follows him around like a puppy, came skidding in behind him.
“Are we getting ice cream?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“Even better!” Dad announced, unfolding the brochure with a dramatic flick of his wrist. “We’re going to… Demon Land!”
I paused my game. “Demon… Land? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
The brochure was… weird. The logo was a cartoon devil, kind of like the one on a can of deviled ham, but he was winking and holding a giant lollipop. The colors were all fiery reds and deep purples. The slogan at the bottom read: Demon Land: Where Every Scream Is a Scream of Joy!
Yeah, right.
“It just opened!” Dad said, his voice buzzing with excitement. “It’s in the middle of the Blackwood Forest. Super exclusive. They say it’s the most thrilling theme park ever built!”
“It sounds totally lame,” I muttered, turning back to my screen. My spaceship was getting blasted to bits. Great.
“It does not!” Maya chirped. “Devils are cute!”
I gave her a look. “You think our cat is cute, and he looks like a grumpy, hairy potato.”
Mom came to the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. She peered at the brochure. “Oh, Frank. ‘Demon Land’? Is that really appropriate for the kids?”
“It’s just a theme, honey! Like pirates or fairy tales!” Dad insisted. “It’s all fun and games. Look! They have a ride called the ‘Hell-ter Skelter’ and a lazy river called the ‘River Styx’!”
GULP.
Somehow, my protests were ignored. And that’s how I ended up here, crammed in the back of our minivan, with Maya humming the world’s most annoying song next to me. We’d been driving for hours. The city had disappeared, replaced by miles and miles of dark, creepy trees. Blackwood Forest. It definitely lived up to its name.
The GPS had gone haywire about an hour ago. The friendly map lady’s voice had dissolved into static, and now the screen just showed our little car icon floating in a sea of green.
“Are we there yet?” Maya whined for the fiftieth time.
“Almost, sweetie,” Dad said, though he was squinting at the road ahead. It had gotten narrow and bumpy, and the trees seemed to press in on us, their branches like long, bony fingers scratching at the windows.
Then we saw it.
A huge, wrought-iron gate rose up out of the gloom. At the top, a giant, winking devil face, just like the one in the brochure, flickered in neon red. The words DEMON LAND glowed beneath it.
The gates creaked open on their own. Creeeeak. The sound went right down my spine.
As we drove in, the weirdness got weirder. The parking lot was almost empty, which was strange for a brand-new theme park. The air was thick and smelled sweet, like cotton candy, but with something else underneath. Something like… dirt. Like freshly dug dirt.
A single employee stood at the entrance plaza. He was wearing a bright red uniform and a giant, plastic demon head that covered his entire face. It was smiling a smile that was way too big.
“Welcome, mortals!” he said. His voice was muffled and strange, like it was coming from far away. “Your eternal fun is about to begin!”
Eternal fun? Who talks like that?
Dad, of course, was eating it up. “This is great! So much atmosphere!” he whispered to Mom.
Mom just clutched her purse tighter.
We walked through the main gates and my jaw dropped. The park was… incredible. Twisted roller coasters with tracks shaped like corkscrews and pitchforks looped against a sky that was a permanent, fake-looking twilight. Buildings were shaped like little volcanoes and spooky castles. And the music… it was calliope music, the kind you hear at a carnival, but it was playing just a little too slowly. It made the happy tune sound sad and… hungry.
But the weirdest thing was the other guests. There weren’t many of them, and they all walked with a strange, shuffling gait. Their faces were blank, but they were all smiling. Just… smiling. Like their faces were stuck that way.
“I want to go on that one!” Maya shrieked, pointing a sticky finger at a ride that looked like a giant, spinning cauldron. It was called the ‘Witch’s Brew.’
“Okay, kids. You two go on that while your mother and I get some of our famous ‘Scream Soda’!” Dad said, already pulling Mom toward a concession stand shaped like a little imp.
“Don’t get lost!” Mom called over her shoulder, but her voice sounded nervous.
I grabbed Maya’s hand and we shuffled into the line for the Witch’s Brew. There was no line. We walked right up to the front. The ride operator was another one of those people in a full demon costume. He didn't say anything. He just gestured for us to get into one of the cauldron-shaped cars.
I strapped myself and Maya in. The safety bar clicked down with a loud, final-sounding CLANK.
The ride started to move. It spun slowly at first, and the spooky music drifted over us. Maya was giggling. I tried to smile, but a cold feeling was prickling its way up my arms. I got a funny feeling we were being watched. I glanced around. All the other smiling guests were standing perfectly still, their blank faces turned toward our ride. Just watching.
Then the cauldron started to spin faster. And faster. And faster.
Maya’s giggles turned into a scream. The world outside became a blur of purple and red. The music got louder and faster, the notes twisting and turning into something horrible. It wasn’t a happy carnival song anymore. It sounded like a scream.
“Make it stop!” Maya shrieked, burying her face in my arm.
“It’s okay! It’s just a ride!” I yelled, but I wasn’t so sure.
My stomach lurched. The spinning was so fast now, I felt like I was going to be sick. But that wasn't the scariest part.
The air inside our cauldron grew cold. Freezing cold. I could see my breath puffing out in front of me. And a new sound joined the screaming music. A whisper. It seemed to come from all around us, a low, raspy voice.
“Round and round you go,” it whispered. “Where you’ll stop, nobody knows…”
I squeezed my eyes shut. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t a ride. It felt… real.
Suddenly, the spinning stopped. The music cut out. We were plunged into total silence and darkness.
“Hello?” I called out. My voice echoed. We weren’t outside anymore.
A single, red light flickered on above us. We were in some kind of dark chamber. The ride operator stood in front of our cauldron. But he’d taken his mask off.
His face… oh, his face. It was pale and thin, with eyes that glowed with a faint, red light. And his smile… it was the same wide, fixed smile as all the other guests. It wasn’t a happy smile. It was the smile of a predator.
“Did you enjoy the ride?” he asked, his voice no longer muffled. It was the same raspy whisper from the darkness.
Maya was trembling, silent. I couldn’t speak. I just stared.
He took a step closer. His smile widened, stretching his skin so tight it looked like it was going to rip.
“Good,” he hissed, his glowing eyes fixed on us. “Because in Demon Land, the ride never, ever ends.”
He reached a long, pale hand toward the safety bar. And as his fingers touched the metal, it didn’t unlatch.
It began to glow red-hot.
