Together, Jake and Will slid down the slide underneath the Freakish Factory sign, expecting it to be a relatively short drop–but instead, they seemed to plummet for quite a while–several stories at least, before the slide shallowed out and launched them into the air. They landed on a soft, rubbery pad several yards away, and several yards lower than the slide, with no obvious way back up, as Jake had suspected up above. Whatever Daniel found down the slide he’d chosen, the Mirrors of Delight, he’d have to deal with alone. Still, it was just a silly carnival attraction, right? Then again, it seemed like they’d been in here for hours, somehow–shouldn’t the ride me over by now? Instead, they were apparently just getting started.
There was a narrow corridor not too far from the rubber pad, and the floor was no longer wood and concrete, but steel. In the distance, they could hear something rattling, clunking and grinding, but there was no immediate sight of anything mechanical, making the entire settling rather ghostly. They went into the corridor, lit with dim, industrial bulbs, and they only made it a short distance before Will stepped in something sticky, made a noise of disgust, and looked down at his shoe.
The thing he’d stepped in was a puddle of some sort, but what it was a puddle of, he had no idea. It was almost pitch black, with just a bit of reflective sheen to it. He wanted to touch it, but hesitated, trying to wipe it off the sole, but it wouldn’t come away. When he did finally touch it, he found that it had dried into a smooth rubber in just a few moments, though the puddle was still wet. “What the hell is this, some sort of leak?” he asked, showing what he’d found to Jake.
“Latex of some sort, I bet…but I don’t see where it could have come from.”
Is there a leak or something?”
“I don’t know why they would be pumping liquid latex through a funhouse.”
Will just shrugged, unable to come up with another explanation, and Jake didn’t offer anything else either, and they continued on their way, one of Will’s shoes feeling uncomfortably slick, and every few yards they found another puddle to step around, until the flooring changed into a rubber substance of some kind. Then, around the next corner, they discovered the source of the strange rubber substance, because up ahead some shower had been set up across the entire pathway, hosing the black goo down into a trough. There didn’t seem to be any other way past, though neither one of them had any interest in passing through the shower, and getting covered in the muck.
“Let’s go back–maybe we missed another path somewhere back there.”
“Yeah, this can’t be right…”
They turned around and started walking, but it took a couple of moments for them to realize they weren’t making any progress…because the rubber flooring, it turned out, was a conveyer belt driving them back into the shower of goop. They ran faster, hoping to out pace it, but it kept speed with them perfectly, and it wasn’t long before they began to tire. Jake tripped first, tumbling backward and rolling into the trough and under the goop. Will didn’t last much longer, and he too fell, and was rolled right along into the stuff as well. It coated everything, matting his clothes uncomfortably to his body, slicking down his hair, covering most of him in an even layer of rubber that hardened almost instantly, as soon as he was out from under it on the other side, where Jake was sitting, trying to peel the stuff off with no success.
“What kind of fucking shit is this?”
“Who the hell knows. Let’s just get out of here and then we can complain.”
They kept going, and the rattling and banging was getting louder. The floor was still rubber matting–if they tried to backtrack, it would turn into a conveyor belt each time, forcing them to continue, and there seemed to be more showers of the gunk around each corner. Before long, the two of them were covered in layers and layers of the filth, struggling along, trying to keep their mouths and noses clear so they could breathe, and their eyes clear so they could see. But they collapsed before too long, the belts turning on and pushing them onward, more and more rubber coating them until they came to a large room–and the source of the rumbling that neither of them could see at that point, or even hear very well. It was some massive machine, lumbering along in the dark, blowing steam and leaking oil all over, and the sign over the conveyor the two of them were on read, “Raw Material Line.”
But raw material for what, exactly?
What is this machine going to do to our happless college boys? If there are two popular options, then their fates will be split.
- The machine molds them into physical freaks–silicone body mods, puppy body conversion, etc.
- They become rubber drones designed for particular uses–living fuck toys, human toilet, etc.
- They are broken down and processed into inanimate objects–rubber clothing, sex toys, etc.
Polls close on Sunday!
Bracken's Corner 