The Park (Evenstad Media Presents Book 1) (5 page)

JOURNAL 11SUSAN

ENTRY 003

DATE: 1/14/2074

 

I caved in on the new one. Craig might have left if I killed
her there, and he's too important to me right now. She might be able to fix
things up. I don't know. I won't deal with her. I have to stay unattached
enough to kill them both. Craig is already iffy, but I can still do it. For
twenty million dollars, I can do a lot of things.

 

ENTRY END

Evenstad Media's New Hit Sensation: The Park

1/14/2074 at 1:18 p.m. EST

 

When The Park first aired, I didn't give it much thought. I
don't put a lot of faith in reality shows, and this was just another in a long
line of them, spewed out to rend money from customer since before I was born.
But there was nothing else on, and The Park's series premiere was being advertised
on every channel I tried. I gave it a chance.

Brilliance. I can't normally apply that word to television,
but this time, it really, truly fits. The Park is brilliant in so many
different ways, not the least of which is the sheer amount of money the show
must be raking in for Evenstad Media's already well-lined pockets. But even
knowing that, I am more than willing to give them 180 minutes of my time each
week to stay caught up. I even admit that I pay for a subscription to their
scam, The Park 24/7.

Twelve total strangers, tossed into an enclosed, lightless
trailer park. Nothing but them and some guards to shoot anyone trying to
escape. And they couldn't have asked for a better opening, even if they
scripted it. Nathan's death made it real. I'm sure they lost some people for
that, but not this viewer. According to the ratings, which they proudly wave
about, viewership actually increased after that first episode, and the initial
run of 24/7 brought in six million subscribers. And that number has been climbing.

Among fans, at least in the online community, the big
question is about the medallions. We were told from the very first episode that
there were others hidden around The Park. How many, we don't know, but others.
Most people assume them to be more devastating even than the dozen we
have
seen so far. And those people are probably making a good assumption. Perhaps
not every medallion will be a better tool, but I suggest many of them will be.
No one has yet actively searched for medallions, that we've been shown, but I
think they will be key. Something to take on the likes of Susan's pinpoint
laser, Manfred's lightning, or Blake's shotgun-esque blast of energy.

And of course, the big question, the one that really keeps
us coming back, is who will die next? Who will kill them? And who will win? As
we have seen the contestants growing closer, even living with one another, I
can't help but think that someone will be killed before too long, killed by an
'ally.'

TL;DR: The Park: watch it.

 

Phil Boggs

JOURNAL 06RITA

ENTRY 003

DATE: 1/14/2074

 

So, how are the ratings doing now? I haven't heard anyone
setting off the alarm, or any gunshots. Sure, it could have been silent, done
by hand or something, but my best guess is that things have been slowing down.
Doesn't that mean that your viewers are losing interest? How much longer until
you decide to take things into your own control? More than you have, I mean.
Putting us in here might not be enough forever, if things don't keep up a
decent speed. Lots of action, lots of blood, lots of violence. That's what
keeps your little show making money, just like with anything else, nowadays.

Tell you what, though: I can help you out. Let's get
everything going a little faster. I may have found myself a little friend.
Slave. Pet. Whatever you want to call him. I've been watching him. I think
he'll be an easy enough target. I can probably manipulate him by flashing my
boobs a few times. Make him do whatever I want. Sound good to you? Do you
censor that kind of nudity, or is it going to make it into the final cut of the
show? Pixelated? Black bar? Little Xs over the nipples?

With all the help I'm giving you, I'm hoping for a little
something in return. Get on that, would you, Evenstad?

 

ENTRY END

JOURNAL 08DESIREE

ENTRY 003

DATE: 1/14/2074

 

I feel so young. Justice and I are growing really, really
close. He goes out in front of me, when we have to leave the house. He hasn't
said anything about it, and I'm not going to bring it up. I know that You've
done this for me, God. He can have as much time as he needs to figure out that
truth for himself.

There's just one issue. He's decided that we need to go out
and look for these medallions that are supposed to be hidden around the trailer
park. I just don't know about it. He wants to do it so that we can protect
ourselves better. It makes a lot of sense, in a way, but I'm not thrilled about
it. We have a pretty good thing going right here. I want to keep it working,
and I don't know if bringing in even more weapons is going to help that at all.

So God, I know that You've been doing a lot for me already.
More than I ever, ever deserve. Thanks to You, I'm getting through this in one
piece. But I need to ask You for a favor. A big favor. I need a sign, one way
or another. Should we do this, or should we stay? Please, I beg of You, do this
for me.

Amen.

 

ENTRY END

WHO IS GOING TO WIN THE PARK?

POLL 1

1: Susan (36%)

2: Justice (18%)

3: Christina (11%)

4: Craig (7%)

5: Rita (5%)

6: Tina (5%)

7: Blake (4%)

8: Manfred (4%)

9: Desiree (4%)

10: David (3%)

11: Julia (2%)

12: Nathan (1%)

(Information Collected by The Cruise)

JOURNAL 03BLAKE

ENTRY 003

DATE: 1/19/2074

 

I don't think I can keep playing the way I have been. I
haven't been playing at all, really, just sitting around for the past three weeks.
And that's not going to work. But I'm scared. Terrified. I don't want to do
what it is I have to do, but I know that it has to happen. If I'm actually
going to start playing, I have to work within the confines of their game. And
their game isn't pleasant.

So, for the past couple days, I've been watching someone.
He's probably my dad's age, maybe a little younger. He's got this tagalong old
man. Way too old to help him out, if the time comes. When. I need to start
saying when. It's going to happen. When the time comes for me to kill him, I
know the old man won't be an issue. He looks like he'd get knocked over if I
gave him a mean enough look.

I know where the two of them are staying and I've moved in
closer so I don't miss out on my chance. When he comes out, I need to be ready
to do it. I'll probably have to get really close to use the medallion, if I
want to do any real damage. I don't want it to take a lot of time. I need to
get this first one out of my way.

Right now, I'm just screwing with him. Rocks and sticks at
the windows and walls. Anything to make noise that he might have to come look
at, figure out what it is. I've been making things more and more obvious,
trying to force him out. But he and the old man are both really resistant to
leaving. Not surprising, but it's making my job harder than I'd really like it
to be.

 

ENTRY END

JOURNAL 12DAVID

ENTRY 005

DATE: 1/23/2074

 

There's someone outside of the house. I don't know why.
Probably trying to pick off the weakest of the herd. Predators always do, and I
can guess that Manfred and I rank pretty low on the threat list. It's gotten
bad enough that we've started taking guard shifts. Only one of us sleeps. I try
to take as many as I can, but Manfred's staying right up with me. He wants to
pull his weight, but I can see him flagging. I'm younger and I can afford to
spend more time awake. I try to get up early and I push myself as far as I can
stretch. It's for the best, anyway. When I'm exhausted, I don't dream as much.
Or at least I don't remember my dreams as much. The dreams aren't kind to me.
Slow deaths. Pain. I don't know how realistic they are. I've never been cut to
bits. But, if it's anything like what my brain's coming up with, I don't want
it. At all.

I want to get out of here, but I know I shouldn't. So far,
the walls have kept me safe. So far.

 

ENTRY END

JOURNAL 10MANFRED

ENTRY 004

DATE: 1/31/2074

 

I made it out alive. In honor of David's memory, I feel that
I must record the events here, though I know that I will never forget what I
have seen. I only wish that I could have recovered the body. But there was not
much left for me to bury, in the end. I have taken his medallion, only to keep
it away from the scavengers and murderers.

I had to sit here and watch David collapse into himself. I
realize that it is pleasant, compared to his eventual fate, but I still would
not wish to relive it. Whoever his attackers were, they were horribly clever.
They drove him mad, mad enough to wish to leave the house. I did what I could
to stop him, but all I had were my words. Again, my body fails me, and again I
am reminded how unfit I am to play this game.

When he left, I dared not follow. There was little I could
do. I went as far as the front porch, far enough out that I could attempt to
fend off anyone who tried to attack. I didn't relish the thought of unleashing
lightning on another living being, but David was a pure soul. No one here
deserves to die, but I think him, least of all. I don't know the others forced
into here, but David was purely good.

It was quick. In the dark, I hardly saw the movement. Only
in hindsight do I remember it clearly. By the time I saw it, it was too late.
The dark figure was on David. I saw a flash of light burst through David's
back. It took me a moment before I realized that it was something more than
simple light, that it had broken all the way through his body and fell to the
ground in. The grass flared where the light fell to the ground, then sputtered
out.

I am ashamed to write it here, but I allowed my fear to
overcome my judgment. I ran back inside, flicked off the lights, and locked the
door. A stupid, panicked move, turning off the lights. But they didn't notice
the change and didn't notice me, as best I can tell. Otherwise, I would likely
have died before ever typing this journal.

I watched through the window. I could not see much, but I
caught a few more things by the dim light of the burning grass. More flashes of
light to let me see more parts of David's body separating. It was a man,
judging by the shape, although I could be wrong. He was a sadist, though. He
kept blowing David apart, long after he had died.

A woman came up a short time after the man stopped. They
talked for a few minutes and she bent down to examine David's body. I can only
think she was looking for the medallion. Luckily, it was not there. It flew
with his head and disappeared in the dark. I am thankful that they were unable
to get it. I hardly think that they need more power.

Now, I am alone. These days shall be difficult for me. I
only hope that I can make it through in one piece. But if not, I hardly think
it would come as a surprise, to myself or anyone else.

 

ENTRY END

TO Marta Evenstad ,
Frederick Evenstad

FROM: Niels Evenstad

SUBJECT: Media Coverage

SENT: 2/2/2074 AT 12:02 p.m. EST

 

Brother, Sister.

I wanted to keep you abreast of the progress, as you two
hold the greatest interest in this endeavor. I've spoken with Stian, and he's
agreed to provide favorable coverage of the coming events in The Cruise. If we
can win public opinion through the news, what we plan to do will be much
simpler, when it comes time.

 

Niels Evenstad

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media

Mrs. Lopez,

 

In accordance with the contract signed by your brother David
Mae for participation in 'The Park,' Evenstad Media is obligated to pay the
expenses for the beneficiaries named therein, in the event of Mr. Mae's death.

Enclosed, please find a check written for the amount of $50,000.
These checks will be delivered biannually until you request that payments cease
or in the event of your death.

 

We're sorry for your loss.

Evenstad Media

JOURNAL 03BLAKE

ENTRY 004

DATE: 1/31/2074

 

I met this girl after I killed that guy. It's been really
good for me. She's helping me get through all the things in my head. All the
stuff I keep thinking. Without her, I don't know how I'd be getting through any
of this.

I kind of liked it. I mean, I didn't like killing him. I
don't know. It was like something releasing. Or maybe something snapping. I
can't really decide which it was. But there was suddenly this lack of tension.
Maybe because I'd been planning it and focusing on it so hard, and then it was
just done. I guess that's probably what it was. But I didn't like it. I don't
like it. The killing. I liked the release. I'm not even making sense to me.

That's why Rita's been so great. She's talked me through it.
This is just a game. Everything I'm doing is just a game. None of it is really
me. She even pointed out that there's no way that Evenstad Media's really
letting us kill each other. Especially not on TV. That's just crazy. I was just
too stupid to see it on my own.

But that doesn't change what I did. I didn't know that I
wasn't killing him when I did it. I killed that guy. It seemed way too real to
be faked, too. I mean, the way he kind of flew apart. I've already puked three
times thinking about that.

I don't know. I really don't get how it could all be faked.
I don't understand a lot of things that are going on right now. Rita's one of
those things, too. I mean, I think she's into me. Like, really into me. And
she's way out of my league, so I don't get it. She's absolutely out of my
league. But she's being so nice. Really nice. And touchy. Physical touchy.

It's nice. It helps take my mind off of what I did. And the
fact that I'll probably have to do it again. The killing thing, not the
touching. Real or not, that blood smell just isn't going to go away. I know
that for sure. I can smell it in my sleep, and I've already showered and
scrubbed twice. It's not on my body at this point. It's just… there. Maybe with
soap. Or maybe it's just stuck there in my head.

 

ENTRY END

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