Carousel Shadows: :carousel_horse: 9

Trigger Warning: The following content you are about to read involves topics such as death, grief, funeral, and abuse. Your discretion is advised.

Erin adjusted the camera, her hands trembling slightly. She took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she hit record.

“Hello, Eeries! Welcome back to my channel. I hope you’re all doing well. I’ve been reading your comments, and I know a lot of you have been asking me to stop talking about the Lunhaven Killer and focus on other cases. I hear you, I really do. But…” she hesitated, her tone softening, “this case is so close to home for me. It’s happening in real-time, right here in the city I live in. It’s new, it’s terrifying, and it feels personal. I can’t just ignore it—not when there are still two missing victims out there who need to be found.”

She paused, glancing down at her notes before continuing.

“I promise, once this killer is caught, I’ll move on to other cases. But until then, I feel like it’s my responsibility to keep you all updated. So, let’s dive into today’s update.”

Erin’s voice grew more somber as she leaned closer to the camera.

“Two days ago, three more victims were discovered: Capri, Reyam, and Ezra. All college students—just like the others. They attended my university, which… honestly, it’s chilling. It’s like this killer is targeting people in my own community.”

She swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice.

“The victims were found in the same horrific way as before, but this time, the police discovered something new—a printed letter from the killer.” A copy of the letter she’d found online, the text bold and taunting.

”‘You’ll never catch me!!’” she read aloud, her voice shaking with frustration. “It’s infuriating. This person isn’t just taking lives—they’re mocking the police, mocking all of us. They think they’re untouchable.”

Erin’s expression faltered, and she looked away from the camera for a moment.

“I want this to end. I want the missing victims to come home safe, and I want this monster behind bars. It’s exhausting, emotionally draining even, to keep talking about this—but I feel like I have to. For them. For their families. For all of us who are scared to walk outside at night.”

Her voice cracked slightly, and she forced a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Eeries. I know I sound emotional today, but this case is just… it’s gotten under my skin.”

She sat back in the couch, staring into the lens as if trying to connect with each viewer.

“That’s all I have for today. I wish I had better news, but I promise to keep you updated as soon as I learn more. Thank you for sticking with me through this. Stay safe out there, and I’ll see you in the next video.”

Erin reached out to stop the recording, her hands shaking slightly. As the camera light dimmed, she sat in silence for a moment, her mind racing with thoughts of the killer who felt so close yet untouchable.

The basement was cold and damp, with an oppressive darkness that seemed to swallow everything whole. Suddenly, the sound of a door creaking open echoed through the silence, followed by heavy footsteps descending the stairs. A faint beam of light spilled into the space as the figure turned on a dim overhead bulb, its weak glow illuminating only a small portion of the room.

The man standing there was Penelope’s captor. He carried himself with an air of confidence, a twisted grin playing on his lips as his eyes scanned the room.

In the corner, huddled on the cold concrete floor, sat a frail young woman wearing nothing but a set of tattered underwear. Her body was skeletal, her face gaunt, and her once-vivid eyes had dulled from weeks—months—of suffering.

“Hey, Mer. You look awful.” He said mockingly.

His laugh was low and cruel, echoing in the confined space like a taunt.

Merli didn’t respond. She couldn’t—not fully. Her vocal cords were damaged, a result of his abuse. Instead, she laid still, her body trembling slightly. Faded bruises marred her skin, painting a grotesque map of her torment.

The man leaned closer, picked her up by her neck, his voice soft but patronizing. “I need your help with Penny. She’s acting up—going through some kind of phase—and I think she needs a woman to talk to. You know, some girl-to-girl time.” He smirked. “I know you can’t talk, but you can write, right?”

Merli’s hollow gaze didn’t falter. She didn’t nod or shake her head. She just stared at him with a mix of fear and resentment, her silence louder than any words she could have spoken.

Annoyed by her lack of response, he let go of her and grabbed a worn bathrobe from a nearby chair. He threw it at her without care, the fabric landing limply on her lap.

“Put it on and follow me,” he ordered, his tone sharp.

Merli moved slowly, her body aching with every motion. She slipped the robe over her thin frame, the fabric rough against her battered skin. As she stood, her mind drifted back to the night she first entered this house. They’d been on a date—one that seemed normal, even pleasant. After dinner, he’d invited her over, charming and persuasive. She’d agreed, unaware that she’d never leave his home again.

She followed him upstairs, her bare feet dragging against the wooden steps. Each step felt like a lifetime, her heart pounding as memories of past torment surfaced. When they reached the hallway, he led her to a door that opened into a bright, clean room. The stark contrast to the basement made her stomach churn with resentment.

Inside sat Penelope, curled up on the neatly made bed. Her tear-streaked face turned toward them, eyes wide with confusion and fear. Penelope’s room was everything the basement wasn’t—warm, clean, filled with light and comfort. Merli couldn’t help but feel a pang of bitterness. Why did Penelope get this while she rotted in the darkness below? They were both prisoners, weren’t they?

The man gestured toward Merli as he spoke to Penelope. “Penny, baby, I brought you someone to talk to. You can tell her what’s wrong, okay?”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and left the room, locking the door behind him. The sound of the bolt sliding into place sent a shiver down both of their spines.

Penelope stared at Merli, her brows knitting together. There was something oddly familiar about her, but she couldn’t place where she’d seen her before. Merli, in turn, dropped to the floor, sitting cross-legged in front of Penelope, her expression unreadable.

After a moment, Merli raised her hand and gave a small wave. Penelope hesitated, then returned the gesture weakly. There was a strange, fragile connection forming between them—one rooted in shared fear and unspoken understanding.

Merli parted her lips as if to speak, but when she finally did, her voice was barely above a whisper—low and hoarse, as though it hadn’t been used in days. “Hi Penelope, my name is Merli. How are you feeling?”

Penelope hesitated, her tired eyes scanning the words before meeting Merli’s gaze. She wiped a tear from her cheek and whispered softly, her voice barely audible.

Penelope: Hi. I’m… I’m not good.

Instead of saying anything, Merli moved closer and sat down on the bed next to Penelope. Her presence was quiet, almost hesitant, yet there was something in her eyes—something haunting and desperate.

Penelope swallowed hard, unsure whether she should feel comforted or terrified.

What could this woman—so broken, yet still alive—have to say? And would it give Penelope any hope for escape? Or was she simply a reminder of the horrors that awaited her?

Merli: Why did you say that you’re not good?

Penelope’s lips quivered as she spoke, her voice thick with despair.

Penelope: I’m tired of him. I can’t do it anymore. I want to go back to Mom and Dad. I want to go back to school, to church, to my normal life. I just want my life back.

Merli’s heart clenched at Penelope’s words. She had once felt the same way—she still did. She wrote her response carefully, her handwriting shaky but legible.

Merli: I understand, sweetie, but you need to stay strong. If you give up now, you won’t make it. I’ve been here much longer than you, but I still have hope. I believe we’ll be found and leave this place.

Penelope’s brow furrowed, her voice rising slightly as frustration and fear bubbled to the surface.

Penelope: Did he hurt you like he hurts me?

Merli paused, her eyes darkening as memories she wished she could forget flooded back. She swallowed hard before writing her reply.

Merli: Yes. When I disobeyed him, he’d flip out and hit me. That’s why you have to listen to him. If you don’t, he’ll send you to the basement like me. Down there, there’s nothing—no food, no warm bed, nothing. Just cold, darkness, and pain. You have to stay strong, okay?

Penelope’s tears came faster now, her hands clutching her knees as she rocked slightly on the bed.

Penelope: But I don’t want to. I just want to leave. I’m tired of being here, of doing whatever makes him happy. It’s disgusting, and it makes me so uncomfortable, but he forces me. I hate it.

Merli’s chest tightened at the raw honesty in Penelope’s words. She wished she could offer a solution, but all she had was the will to survive. She scribbled furiously in the notebook and pushed it toward Penelope.

Merli: I know, and I understand how you feel. But you have to bear it for now. I need you to survive, Penelope. We have to come out of this alive, together.

Penelope sniffled, her voice barely a whisper.

Penelope: I… I’ll try. Thank you.

Merli reached out, resting a gentle hand on Penelope’s shoulder, and pulled her closer to hug her

Merli: No problem. Just hold on, okay? We’ll get through this.

Penelope nodded weakly, her tears slowing as she looked at the fragile woman sitting next to her. In that moment, despite their circumstances, she felt the tiniest flicker of hope.

Erin had been ing videos about the Carousel Killer almost obsessively. Her channel, once a mix of true crime and everyday life, was now entirely consumed by updates on the case. Sometimes, she posted twice a day, desperate to piece together the puzzle. Deep down, she wanted to stop, to reclaim her life, but she felt trapped in her own need to help.

Now, she sat on the couch in Sophie’s apartment, her face buried in her hands as silent tears streamed down her cheeks. The weight of it all was too much. When Sophie came through the door after her hospital appointment, her heart dropped at the sight of Erin crying.

Sophie immediately set her bag down and crossed the room, sitting beside Erin. She gently wrapped her arms around her, holding her close.

Sophie: What’s wrong, Erin? Why are you crying?

Erin took a shuddering breath, wiping at her damp cheeks, but the tears kept coming.

Erin: I’m so tired, Sophie. I’m tired of talking about him, thinking about him, living with this case on my mind every second of the day.

Sophie’s brows furrowed, concern deepening as she looked at her friend.

Sophie: Then stop, Erin. Just stop. No one is forcing you to keep talking about him. I’ve been so worried about you. You’re not the same anymore. You’re neglecting yourself—your studies, your career, your whole life. Don’t do this to yourself because of some man you don’t even know.

Erin shook her head, her voice cracking as she responded.

Erin: But I can’t stop. I want to protect everyone, Sophie. I’ve been covering this case since Ruby’s murder almost four months ago. I can’t just give up. I don’t want more people to die because I stopped trying to help.

Sophie sighed, her expression softening.

Sophie: Erin, I—

Before she could finish, her phone rang. She pulled it from her bag, glancing at the caller ID.

Sophie: It’s Leo. Hold on.

She answered, her tone calm at first, but as she listened, her face seemed to dull, as if all the warmth had been drained from it.

Sophie: What?! No, you’re joking. This can’t be true. How’s Caleb holding up? … Okay. I’ll call you later.

She ended the call and looked at Erin, who was staring at her with wide, tear-streaked eyes, desperate to know what had happened.

Erin: Sophie, what’s wrong? Tell me!

Sophie took a deep breath, her voice shaky as she replied.

Sophie: Tia’s been found… in an abandoned theme park. She wasn’t alone—another girl was with her.

Erin’s heart sank, her body going cold.

Erin: What? Not Tia. Oh my God, Sophie, he’s getting closer to us. What if we’re next? I don’t want to die. Not like this. Not by him.

Her voice cracked, and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.

Sophie: I know, Erin. I don’t want that either. But I don’t know what we can do. Why isn’t he being caught? Why hasn’t anyone stopped him yet? This is spiraling out of control.

Erin stared blankly at the floor, her voice quiet but full of anguish.

Erin: Poor Tia. I wonder what she felt in her last moments. Was she scared? Did she know what was happening? I can’t stop thinking about it.

Sophie placed a comforting hand on Erin’s knee, squeezing gently.

Sophie: We can’t let him take any more from us, Erin. Not our lives, not our sanity. We’ll figure this out. Somehow, we’ll make it through.

But as the two friends sat in heavy silence, the shadow of fear loomed large. Neither of them knew how much more they could endure, or how close the Carousel Killer truly was.

At Tia’s funeral, Erin and Sophie stood with a group of friends, huddled together in shared grief. Neither of them could stop crying. Tia had been more than just a friend; she was family to their circle, and now she was gone, another victim of the Carousel Killer.

The weight of it all was crushing—thirteen victims lost to this monster, three others still missing. Among the missing was Albina Barker, a sixteen-year-old girl who had been abducted the same night Tia and Bianca were killed. The reality of it was too much to bear.

Tia’s mother, her face pale and grief-stricken, approached the group. She moved with the slow, hesitant steps of someone carrying unimaginable pain. Her eyes locked on Erin, and she gave a faint smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Tia’s Mother: Thank you all for coming today. And Erin…

Erin wiped her tear-streaked face, trying to steady herself as Tia’s mother addressed her directly.

Tia’s Mother: Thank you for everything you’ve done. For keeping us updated on the case, for your dedication. Tia spoke about you often—she praised your efforts to protect everyone and spread awareness. She always made sure to stay safe because of you.

Her voice cracked slightly, but she continued.

Tia’s Mother: But… things happened.

Erin felt a lump in her throat. She struggled to find the words but managed a quiet response.

Erin: Thank you. I… I’m so sorry for your loss.

Tia’s mother nodded solemnly, her expression one of resignation.

Tia’s Mother: She went out with a new friend she met. She met him at church, and she never came back.

Her words hung in the air, heavy and haunting.

Erin: I’m truly sorry. If there’s anything I can do—

Tia’s mother gently shook her head, her voice soft but firm.

Tia’s Mother: Things happen, Erin. None of this is your fault. Take care of yourself. I’ll see you around.

With that, she walked away, her figure blending into the sea of mourners.

Erin turned to Caleb, who stood silently nearby. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, his gaze fixed on the ground. Tia and Caleb had only just started dating a few weeks before her death. Now, he looked like a shell of himself, his eyes rimmed red from crying.

Erin hesitated before speaking, her voice quiet and shaky.

Erin: Caleb…

He glanced up at her, his expression hollow.

Caleb: Yeah?

Erin: She’ll get justice. I promise. Everyone will.

For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then, he let out a long, trembling sigh.

Caleb: I hope so. I really do.

Sophie placed a comforting hand on Caleb’s shoulder, but he didn’t react. The four of them stood there in silence, watching as the casket was lowered into the ground. The finality of it all was unbearable.

As the service ended and people began to leave, Erin stayed rooted in place, her mind racing. She felt a mix of guilt and anger. She had tried so hard to spread awareness, to warn people about the killer. But it hadn’t been enough.

Sophie: Erin, are you okay?

Erin shook her head slowly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Erin: I can’t stop now. I have to do more. I have to.

Sophie frowned, concern etched on her face, but she didn’t argue. She knew Erin wouldn’t listen.

The Carousel Killer had taken so much from them already. Erin was determined not to let him take anything—or anyone—else.

Albina sat alone in her room, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Her room, though better than the cold, dark basement where Merli was kept, was still oppressive and suffocating. The walls were bare, the bed was hard, and the window was sealed shut, letting in no light or hope of escape.

Her sobs echoed in the silence, but she quickly stifled them, knowing the consequences if her captor heard her. Each time he saw her cry, he would slap or hit her, hurling cruel words as if her pain amused him.

*The above picture is when he first brought Albina to his house*

??: Stop acting like a child, Albina! Penelope is only ten, and she’s more mature than you!

The comparisons to Penelope stung almost as much as the physical abuse. Albina had begged him to let her go countless times, but he only laughed, enjoying her despair.

Today, however, the house was eerily quiet. The kidnapper had left to attend Tia’s funeral, leaving the girls alone. Penelope, resourceful and quietly observant, had managed to find an extra key to Albina’s room. She made her way there, heart pounding, clutching the stolen key in her small hand.

As Penelope unlocked the door and slipped inside, Albina tensed, her body trembling. When she saw it was Penelope, her fear eased slightly, but the tension remained. Penelope’s presence felt like a small beacon of light in her dark world.

Albina was tied on a chair. Penelope’s wide eyes took in the bruises on Albina’s wrists and ankles, the evidence of her struggles against the restraints. She lowered herself onto the floor, sitting cross-legged in front of Albina.

Penelope: Hi, Albina.

Albina studied the young girl, her voice laced with bitterness and a flicker of curiosity.

Albina: Hey. You must be the princess of this house.

Penelope shrugged, looking down at her hands.

Penelope: I guess.

Albina let out a bitter laugh, wiping her tear-streaked face.

Albina: Why is he treating you differently? What did you do to get this… special treatment?

Penelope: I don’t know. I didn’t do anything. I don’t understand why he treats me better than you and Merli.

Albina: Merli? There’s a third girl?

Penelope nodded, her voice soft but steady.

Penelope: Yes. She’s the oldest of us. She’s in the basement. She doesn’t have a bed, clean clothes, or enough food. He treats her worse than anyone, but she’s staying strong. That’s what you need to do, Albina. Stay strong and… listen to him. It’s horrible, I know, but it’s the only way to avoid more pain.

Albina shook her head, tears welling in her eyes again.

Albina: I don’t know if I can. I feel like I’m already breaking. How does she do it?

Penelope: I don’t know. She’s brave. But you can be brave too.

Albina hesitated, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Albina: Do you think we can escape this place?

Penelope froze, her young face etched with fear.

Penelope: I wouldn’t risk it.

Albina: But I would. If we find the keys to these locks, I’ll run. I’ll get help. Someone will come for you and Merli.

Penelope’s expression darkened with worry.

Penelope: What if they catch us? What if they kill us before anyone can help?

Albina frowned at her wording.

Albina: They? You said ‘they.’ There’s more than one?

Penelope nodded slowly, her eyes darting toward the door as if expecting someone to burst in.

Penelope: Yes. There’s more than one. He isn’t working alone.

Albina’s stomach churned, the reality sinking in deeper.

Albina: Do you know who they are?

Penelope shook her head, her voice trembling.

Penelope: No. I just know they come sometimes… and when they do, it’s worse.

Albina stared at her, her mind racing. Escape now felt both more urgent and more dangerous.

Albina: Then we need to be smarter. If there’s more than one, we can’t just run blindly. But I’m not staying here. We’ll figure something out. Together.

Penelope: Okay. But we have to be careful. Promise me you’ll be careful.

Albina nodded, her resolve hardening despite the fear coursing through her.

Albina: I promise. We’ll get out of here. All of us.

Penelope gave a small, hesitant smile, but her eyes were still clouded with doubt. The clock was ticking, and they both knew it.