* * *

“Well, that was… uh… huh. Well. I guess Janet got to spend some quality, uh… I’ll be honest here, folks. I did not prepare a quip for this eventuality. Why don’t we go see how Charlton’s doing for a while and let me think about this.”

Charlton, as it turns out, is not doing particularly well. Still incensed over losing his prey, he is making slightly more noise than his usual ghostly self as he moves through the woods, eyes peeled for traces of a girl. “So. Charlton’s only got two targets in his arena right now, which is going to make things tricky for him. With almost half the girls gone, this is generally about when things start to slow down for our hunters, and time begins to pass. It looks like that’s true for Charlton, at least.”

The camera cuts to a split screen. On the top, Sam is creeping up to the pylon, eyes peeled for a sign of her hunter. The girl’s blue dress is now scratched, but still intact enough to cover her very large breasts. Her hair is no longer loose, however, as she has pulled it back and tied it with a stray piece of vine. “Sam is having a painfully easy time of it compared to some of our girls, having finished the city and now tagged in the forest, only seven hours into the competition. She’s going places, folks.”

As the sun creeps across the sky, Charlton comes across Sam’s trail, follows it for several minutes, then shakes his head as he realizes she’s beelining for the tidal pools and doubles back. As he does, he pauses at a slightly larger than usual tree bole, and pauses to glance into it, before continuing on his way. Over a minute passes before Inaya, the Egyptian beauty, slips out and begins to follow him. “Ah! Our Egyptian babe has come up with a plan – follow the hunter, who will loop back to the pylon eventually. Risky, but it could work. Charlton’s not doing so well. We’ll come back and see how she’s doing later. Let’s check in on another one of our surviving hunters.”

In the carnival zone, Ling has finally found her way out of the hall of mirrors. The Chinese girl is covered in hundreds of tiny cuts that offset the old bruises. A slash along her left breast has left it hanging free of its red bikini, bobbing in time with her breaths as she reaches the pylon courtyard and scans it for signs of Saul. Seeing no one, she races at her top speed, tapping the pylon in a single motion as she dashes for the safety of the far tent. “Good work, girl. Maybe you’re a traitor to the state, but you’re a winner to me. But you’re really not Saul’s priority right now.”

Further away, Naledi and Zahida are crouching behind a ruined concession stand. Zaledi is shivering, crouching next to her much smaller ally of convenience, and holding her bandaged arm. “Any sign of him?” She whispers.

“No.” Naledi shakes her head, glancing over at Zaledi and sizing her up. The Afghani woman saved her life at the border, and seems to have relaxed around her younger companion. Her mistake – she’s taller and stronger, but Naledi’s planned for this. She just needs a way to get her down. “We should rest while we can.” She suggests. “Do you want first watch?” A risk, but one she can take here.

After a moment, Zaledi nods thoughtfully. “Alright.” She says with a smile. “Sleep well.” As Naledi curls up in the ruins, and Zaledi starts to watch, she reflects that one of the two is going to have to die in the next sixteen hours. It’s not something she wants to think about.

“Zaledi doesn’t have to worry. Saul’s found a much better target for his game, and one he’s been salivating for.” The camera cuts to the border of the forest and the Carnival, then pans across to Rachel, now awake again and looking for the second pylon. The tall, trim and muscular former IDF soldier is not looking as cocky as she was a few hours ago. Her bikini bottom is still tight, but with her top lost, her breasts are jiggling as she walks – it’s lucky for her that they are only B-cups, or she’d be in trouble if she had to run. Her military haircut is stained with sweat now dripping down her forehead, and she pauses to wipe it off as she takes another cautious look around. “Dear, sardonic Rachel seems to be a bit less sure that the hunters are useless now that she’s met Charlton. It was purest luck that saved her last time – and I think her luck is just about out, because I see Saul.”

As the announcer speaks, Saul steps out from between two tents directly ahead of Rachel, raising a small dart gun towards her. She reacts quickly, starting to catapult backwards, but Saul was just a touch luckier than Charlton, and a dart jams into her side as she starts to run. Two steps later, she sways. Two steps past that, she collapses. Saul walks over to collect his prize. “Very nice! Now, I know Saul put together specifications for a few rides in this Carnival, and he’s got some time before Rachel wakes up, so let’s see what special event he’s prepared…”

Rachel wakes instantly as the tranquilizer in the dart wears off. She blinks her deep brown eyes and snaps to attention, trying to somersault off the surface she feels under her. This proves impossible, as she has been – perhaps unsurprisingly, given that it is Saul doing the work – locked in place. Rachel is shackled to the front of a ride car, tilted slightly so that her bottom is several inches higher than her head, her legs bent around the windshield and bolted to the sides of the car to leave her cunt completely exposed to whomever happens to be riding inside. Her arms are locked down beside her, and her neck is just ahead of the car itself, leaving her head in midair ahead of the car, and she is wearing a black ball gag filled with tiny holes, enough for her to scream in anger, but not to make any recognizable words as she attempts to swear at her captor. She tries to lever herself upwards, only to find that her chest and neck are bolted to the car as well. She can at least tilt her head, enough to see Saul standing in the ride, protected by a glass dome that covers everything except her cunt, his pants down, and smiling. “Welcome to the haunted house. We’re going to be touring a very special hell for you.” He says with a smile as the ride begins to move.

As the car slowly rumbles forwards, the lights dim almost to blackness, and Rachel tries to crane her head to see what’s coming, finding it almost impossible. She tries to hold her anger, focusing on the fact that Saul is trying to kill her with a children’s ride.

As the ride picks up speed, Saul reaches over and twists Rachel’s clit with his hand, drawing a stream of attempted profanity. He laughs, and points ahead. “Watch the tour, girlie.” He suggests. Rachel hears the sound of moans and cries of lust echoing around her, and twists her head. Around her, the wind picks up, sensual buffets that send arcs across her nipples, playing over her feet, blowing into her eyes or flying across her mouth. She tries to grit her teeth, drools slightly, and snickers. The effect of the wind is annoying, and the tickling sensation it brings with it is distracting, but if that is the best that Saul can do…

Ahead, the tracks dip suddenly, and as she looks, she is plunged into icy water, her breath exploding out of her in shock. An instant later, her head passes above the water as the ride continues, leaving her sputtering but unhurt. An instant after that, the ride dips again, leaving her underwater a second time. Every time, she is underwater only for a few seconds, but these shocks repeat themselves a dozen times in quick succession, leaving her soaking and shivering on her perch.

Saul begins to tease Rachel’s cunt with his cock as the ride rises and falls, and she spits angry noises at him as they leave the dark lake behind. “Too cold for you?” He asks tauntingly, shining a light on her small B-cup breasts. They are now tensely erect, the nipples sticking up, and Rachel’s face burns with humiliated rage. “This might help a bit.”

The car passes into the pits of hell, as rubber devils cavort and fabric bats fly overhead. More importantly from Rachel’s perspective, however, is the way that that the track begins to belch gouts of steam sideways, playing over the front of the car. The first one plays lightly over one arm, and Rachel bites off a hiss of pain. The second passes through her hair, and her hiss becomes a string of curses, which dissolve into screams as more steam courses over her. Inside the cab, Saul is completely sheltered, although he does sweat slightly as he slides his cock across the surface of her labia.

As the ride continues on, Rachel is soaked through with sweat, and is covered in what looks like a faint sunburn. Saul cheerfully laughs as she whimpers and writhes, trying to keep her body from touching the hot metal surface of the car. “If you liked that,” he says, you’ll love the next layer.” He says, as he begins to rhythmically slide his penis in and out of her. Rachel shrieks, looking up to swear at him… and then catches sight of the tunnel ahead, and begins to strain at her bonds again.

The walls of the next tunnel are covered in tiny spikes. As each one hits Rachel, it bends, cutting just barely into her skin and then pulling back to ping harmlessly off of the ride itself. This time, Rachel can’t stop her screams – her already-tortured skin is raw and sensistive, and the thousands of papercuts now being inflicted on her are as agonizing as they are non-fatal. Saul is fucking her in time to her screams, laughing at her frenzied and useless attempts to escape, as the ride rounds another bend.

Rachel is panting as the spines fall away, leaving her covered in thousands of tiny, bleeding cuts, closer to a block of meat than a person. Her skin still glistens with sweat and blood, and even her eyelids, closed tightly against the pain, are now running blood into her eyes. Because of this, she doesn’t really realize that the ride is over until the car slams to a stop, and her head falls back onto a hard surface. Almost instantly, something slams down over her neck, pinning her even more tightly than before.

Inside the car, Saul looks at the guillotine that serves as the end of the ride, perfectly lined up with the front of the car. Rachel’s neck is now trapped across the guillotine’s stock. As Rachel’s eyes painfully flicker open, and she sees what’s above her, Saul comes inside her, pressing the button to trigger the guillotine at the same moment. Rachel’s body jerks one last time as the blade slams down, and her head rolls across the stone slab it was placed onto, coming to a stop staring ahead in sheer shock and pain.

Saul pulls out, and wipes himself off. “Fun ride.” He muses. “But the ending’s a bit abrupt.”