The Game at Carousel: A Horror Movie LitRPG

Chapter Thirteen: The Astralist

Chapter Thirteen: The Astralist

"I saw you admiring my Mirror of Stars," Dr. Halle said. "It took decades of toil and perseverance to make the substance. You cannot manipulate the crystal with mortal hands,” he raised his left hand, “Sacrifices had to be made,” he lifted his ghostly right hand. “Would you like to know why I would go through the trouble?"

I was starting to get the picture but said nothing.

He tried to conceal a grin behind his stern facial expression. He continued without waiting for a response.

“When the soul leaves the body, it is jettisoned into the astral plane. The process is chaotic and difficult to measure. Who is to say where the soul goes as it leaves or how to get it back?

“Well, a Mirror of Stars lets me measure the path a soul takes on its way to the hereafter. With only a few more measurements I believe that I will be able to map the astral plane. In doing so I will rid the world of death. That is your purpose.”

He turned and walked back to his workstation, his mind elsewhere for the moment.

He really loved giving this speech. I could tell. I’m sure he’s given the same one to all of his victims.

I had called out loose similarities to Dr. Frankenstein pretty early on, so I wasn’t exactly surprised to see that the baddie was a Mad Scientist. What I couldn’t figure out was how he had moved so quickly when abducting Kimberly. That’s why my mind had shifted toward the supernatural. Now I think I had the answer. It looked like this mad scientist had ghostly powers.

Whoever guessed “Mad Scientist,” please take a bow. I will also accept “Ghost,” for half credit.

On the red wallpaper, I saw a poster appear. It was the same as the painting upstairs except it showed Dr. Halle in his current form. His wife, Anastasia, was slumped over in this poster, her face covered by her long hair.

“The Astralist,” the poster read. Underneath that it said, “Featuring Dr. Simon Halle as the Astralist.”

Plot Armor: 12.

He was something between Dr. Frankenstein and The Reanimator. Strangely, this plot was similar to the backstory of the Casper the Friendly Ghost movie from the 90s. Of course, this ghost wasn’t so friendly.

I began looking at his tropes, but before I could focus on them, I was interrupted.

“Please let us go,” Judy cried. She finally broke from her catatonic state and began weeping openly.

“I can't do that. You know that,” the Astralist said. “I believe that we were meant to find a way to get our loved ones back to us. It is our purpose, my purpose. Observe.”

He raised his ghostly right hand toward the Mirror of Stars and said “Can't you see it? Can't you see my soul seeking hers across the astral plane?”

I looked up to the Mirror of Stars and, sure enough, I could see a streak of light taking a path across the crystalline structures—a difficult path bouncing from angle to angle but clearly emanating from the location that Doctor Halle stood in the room.

“What causes the Mirror of Stars to reach out to us like this? This question was pondered over by philosophers for hundreds of years, but I believe I know the answer.

“It's love. My love for my darling Anastasia is so powerful that it reaches across our universe and into the next. She waits for me there and I can't keep her waiting much longer.

“But do not fret. Once I have mapped the astral plane I will be able to retrieve souls from it at will. With only the pull of a lever and press of a button, I will be able to bring you back. Isn't that wonderful? Your sacrifice is only temporary. I'll be able to bring all of you back.”

“All of us?” I asked. Curiosity got the better of me.

“Yes,” he said. His ghostly right arm flickered like static on a dead television channel. In that very moment, a light switch flipped on the other side of the room.

All of the lights in the room turned off and back on. The equipment in the basement must have been drawing lots of power. Even turning on one light could cause them all to visibly strain. That explained the flickering lights upstairs.

A portion of the basement that had once been dark and hidden from my view now came into light.

I looked on it in horror.

In the darkened corner, there were shelves upon shelves containing nothing but human corpses. There had to be three dozen bodies on those shelves. They were all fully dressed in whatever clothes they had died in. In the center of them was a table with a woman laid out in a wedding dress, her head laid upon a pillow. Even in death, I recognized her. It was Anastasia Halle.

“She was the first,” he said. “She always supported my work, my effort to cure her. My machine is a thing of miracles. A body deprived of a soul through the Mirror of Stars does not decompose. Do you not find that fascinating?

“I could not tell you why this occurs, but I think that it is a sign from the heavens that I am moving in the correct direction. The bodies are virtually undamaged and when I find a way to locate their souls I will be able to reinvigorate them and bring them back to this life.”

“So fear not,” he said looking to the three of us.

He was being very loose with the phrase “virtually undamaged.” The most generous description of these bodies was “mummified.” However, it was true that there was no stench, no rotting.

Doctor Halle approached his computer mainframe and began pushing buttons and turning dials. The machine in front of me came to life and the turret on top started to spin as the barrel of its weapon aimed at the restraining chairs placed in a half circle around it.

“Help,” Kimberly screamed.

“Help, please. Please let me go,” she begged, “Please, I won't tell anyone. Just let me go.”

The Astralist ignored her.

For the second time, I saw her disheveled in terror. She had not worn as much makeup as she had when we arrived, but still, her tears created streaks through her foundation. I wanted to be able to help her but, in truth, I couldn't even get my restraints to budge more than an inch—not enough to escape. I couldn't get my voice box to make noise. The inevitability of my death was all too real.

The turret turned on its axis several times before eventually pointing at Judy. It made sense. She only had three Plot Armor. I'm not proud to say it but I let out a breath of relief when I saw it point at her first. I just hoped that NPCs didn't feel pain. After her it would be my turn because I only had five Plot Armor.

The machine started to initiate a sequence. I could hear pressure building within it and some type of electrical capacitor charging as energy was supplied to it. There was a buzzing sound. Above, the Mirror of Stars started to glow as the machine and the crystals began communicating.

The machine fired. No laser came from the barrel, which is what I expected. Instead, it looked more like a vacuum cleaner that began to siphon glowing blue energy from small stout form of Judy. She screamed in agony as what I can only assume was her soul began to leave her body. She pulled against her restraints but was unsuccessful in freeing herself.

The worst was the sound. I could hear it, like the soul itself, screaming.

First her feet went limp. Then her arms. Then the rest of her body drooped.

All the while, Kimberly squealed and begged to be released. The man did not even give her the courtesy of responding.

After the machine was done with Judy, the bright light that it had absorbed to the turret began rising along a metallic guide wire into the Mirror of Stars until it became one star in a constellation that shot across a distance of the entire mirror.

Doctor Halle paid close attention. He watched readouts on his computer and muttered to himself as he reviewed them.

He shut down the mainframe and the machine started to wind down.

“My machine needs to recharge,” he said his voice was somber like he was speaking at a funeral. “I take no joy in my duties. Nonetheless, it is the responsibility of an Astralist to map the hereafter, to connect the living with the dead, and eliminate the difference between life and death.”