1. One Month Later…

Tallulah satin a nondescript room across from a middle-aged lawyer who sniffed at the end of every sentence. Her eyes threatened to roll back from boredom as he droned on for over an hour, reading through the contract. By signing, she agreed to spend 12 hours locked within the haunted fairgrounds to compete for the $100,000 prize.

"What does this mean that the actors are allowed to fulfill their most basic and primitive urges?"

"Primitive urges include hunger, thirst, anger, and sex. When these needs are not met, the result is usually a state of anxiety or tension."

"Am I in danger?"

Tallulah was the last chosen contestant for the Fair event and the only female. How would she last for 12 hours if six men had failed? The longest lasted almost the entire time until a life-threatening injury had caused his extraction.

The news footage had been disturbing. The contestant was strapped to a stretcher and babbling incoherently as he was loaded into the ambulance. He had suffered multiple rib fractures, a concussion, and a shattered femur. They said he experienced a multi-story fall off the Ferris wheel. He was lucky to be alive.

The most recent death had occurred two years ago, on Valentine's Day. A woman was impaled on an ice sculpture. To this day, the circumstances surrounding her death remain unknown. Internet message boards still discussed theories.

The last Christmas event occurred in a wooded area. The 19-year-old didn't see a bear trap underneath the fresh layer of powdered snow. He tapped out immediately, but the damage was done. His ankle was shattered, and the skin was shredded. He required an amputation.

"The purpose of this experience is not to inflict lasting harm. When people act on impulse, addiction, poor decision-making, and maladaptive behaviors, injury and death are possible." He adjusted his glasses and slid a piece of paper across the desk. "All participants are required to sign a personal injury waiver."

She read the waiver carefully. It simply stated that The Society was not responsible for lasting injury or death. It was unnerving, but Tallulah signed it. Next was an additional waiver due to her lack of health insurance.

He nodded in affirmation. "You are allowed to defend yourself if you feel the situation calls for it."

"That's reassuring," she replied sarcastically.

He shuffled through the other papers, moving on.

"We received the results of your physical. The tests for STIs and communicable diseases were negative. All the actors were tested in kind."

It was confirmation that sexual contact was expected. Though Tallulah would never voice her dark fantasies aloud, the thought made her tingle. Sex and horror went hand in hand.

"Your safe word is ‘rutabaga.' Say it, and you will be extracted immediately from the site, and the game will end. You must last the entire twelve hours to claim the prize money. We have your banking details. The sum will be transferred to you immediately after the siren sounds."

"And what if I'm incapacitated at any point?"

"In the event of a gag, you can use a nonverbal cue to signal distress. You will wear a tracking collar that is specifically designed to monitor heart rate, temperature, sleep cycles, and more. It has a trigger button that you may press to signal us immediately. An alarm is installed within the collar. It will vibrate every hour it is around your neck. If your hands are bound, knock five times against any surface."

"How will someone know?"

"There are over a hundred cameras placed throughout the fairgrounds. Your collar and the actors' masks have micro cameras and microphones to relay feedback to security. The actors know where the out-of-bounds limits are for your safety. Stick within them at all times. All actors are trained to step aside immediately in the event of extraction."

He pointed to the last few pages that required initials and signature. Her heart pounded as she scrawled across the final line of the NDA. All contestants signed a non-disclosure agreement with a steep penalty.

"Any other questions?" the man asked.

"Just one. Who is The Society?"

The man chuckled. "They are a group of individuals that enjoy their anonymity, Miss Daniels. Now, if you'll be so kind as to follow Nurse Roberts, we can get started. You need to be on the field in an hour."

A bubbly blonde in blue scrubs entered the room from a side door Tallulah hadn't realized was there.

"If you'd please follow me, Miss Daniels. I need to get a set of vitals before you're brought to wardrobe."

"Vitals?" Tallulah asked.

"Yes. First, we'll check your height and weight, followed by your basal body temperature, blood pressure, and pulse. We need a baseline before fitting your collar."

The women sat in a room hardly larger than a washroom. A digital blood pressure cuff squeezed Tallulah's upper arm. She opened her mouth to allow the nurse to stick a thermometer under her tongue.

"Temp 97.9. No fever. Your blood pressure is 110/69. Normal. Everything looks good on our end. Just one other question: When was your last menstrual period?"

"About two weeks ago?"

She handed Tallulah a bottle. "Here you go. Hydration is important. Once you're inside the park, you won't have the chance to eat or drink anything."

Tallulah's full pink lips stretched around the mouth of the bottle as she sipped the water under the watchful eyes of the nurse. They chatted for a few minutes while she finished drinking.

She became disoriented as the room around her spun. Her head was suddenly too heavy for her neck and lolled to the side. Tallulah's shoulders slumped, and she almost slipped from her chair.

"How are you feeling, Tallulah?"

The woman's voice became distant and unfamiliar, as if she were speaking underwater. Tallulah's tongue was too thick to respond. Instead of answering, she could only smack her lips in frustration.

"Good, Tallulah. Very good. They are going to love you. Your twelve hours will officially start when you enter the park. We'll see you upon your return."