Armed with prior experience, Eric managed to steady her racing heartbeat this time. Her complexion was pale yet she mustered a strained smile amidst the biting cold. "Do not fear, Teacher White is holding you."
From the tangled mass of decay emerged a mouth once more, sinking its merciless teeth into Eric's neck.
A searing agony engulfed her, blurring her vision into darkness.
"Gurgle…"
Feeling the life's blood ebb away, Eric's teeth chattered with cold. Yet, the putrid entity in her arms appeared to rejuvenate, nourished by her vitality.
It was siphoning her very essence.
The ropes binding them seemed to dissolve; only her two hands remained clasped tightly around Diane. If she released her grip, casting Diane aside, rescue would be hers.
The descent of the car seemed unending; shrouded in dense fog, the ground was nowhere in sight. Drained of strength by fading life, Eric refused to relent. The fiercer Diane bit, the tighter Eric held, pouring every ounce of her remaining vigor into embracing her.
Time lost meaning until a sudden tremor beneath jolted Eric awake.
"How fun! I want to go again!"
"You can only ride once per attraction! I'm eager to try the roller coaster!"
Eric brushed her neck—no teeth marks remained.
She had come to a tentative understanding of this dungeon's essence.
The ghosts conjured illusions wherein her choices dictated life or death, all suffused with their own obsessions.
Diane freed herself from the harness, stepping forward to smile. "Thank you, Teacher White. You didn't abandon me."
"…Let me stamp your card." The near-death sensation had been profoundly vivid, stealing Eric's strength for several moments. She reached to unfasten her harness but found her hand resting upon the buckle.
Had she followed the prior illusion and cast Diane aside, she might well have unbuckled herself. In that case, the real fall from the drop tower would have been hers.
Diane pressed her finger to the card, imprinting the stamp. Eric folded it away, tapping her feet to restore circulation, then counted heads. "Where to next?"
The shortest boy among the group raised his hand boldly. "Teacher, I want to ride the roller coaster!"
The procession veered toward the roller coaster.
A queue formed there; Eric stood waiting when suddenly a startling sight caught her eye—a rider violently thrown from the last curve!
The figure collided with a string festooned with fluttering ribbons and flags. Upon hitting the ground, the body was gruesomely dismembered.
Yet, it seemed she alone witnessed this horror; nearby visitors chatted and laughed as usual. As the coaster slowed, passengers disembarked. Eric observed the seven students departing together; one appeared bullied by the others, cradling his head as he pleaded, "He was useless—don't blame me!"
"I haven't had my turn at the ride yet!"
Passing by Eric, the group abruptly shifted their gaze to her, eyes filled with yearning, mockery, and malice.
A cold shiver ran down Eric's spine; she realized the fallen rider had been a player.
The seven students glanced at her once more and pressed on; the bullied boy waved at Jack, calling, "See you!"
"See you!"
"Teacher White, let's board quickly!" Jack, eager for the roller coaster, tugged at Eric's hand.
Exhaling deeply, Eric nodded. "Let us proceed."
The ride accommodated two per car; she seated Jack beside her. As she'd suspected, this was yet another illusion. Approaching the final sharp turn, Jack's harness failed, threatening to catapult him free.
From the ride's start, Eric had gripped his hand tightly.
"Teacher's scared. Jack, can you give her courage?"
"Okay, Teacher White, but you must hold me tight."
As the coaster neared the last turn, Eric discovered with mounting dread her own safety belt had also failed. If she reached to embrace Jack, she could not simultaneously steady herself within the car.
"Ah!"
Before she could think, Eric lunged to hold Jack. The violent inertia hurled them outward.
They flew!
The pair soared toward the corridor lined with colorful ribbons. Though the slender cords fluttering with flags appeared innocuous, Eric knew a collision would mean grisly separation of head and body—just as with the player moments before.
She closed her eyes, adopting the adage that what the eye does not see, the heart does not grieve.
The thread of death constricted her throat, imbuing her with a cold, taut menace.
What is it like to acutely feel one's windpipe severed, the carotid artery sliced through, the head detached?
Regret? Remorse? Agony?
None of these.
It all transpired so swiftly, too swiftly to register any pain—it simply passed beyond her grasp.
Eric's mind was a blank slate.
Moments later, the raucous world jolted her consciousness awake; she gasped sharply as fresh air drew through an intact trachea, succumbing to a painful bout of coughing.
"Teacher White, are you alright? Did the wind catch you off guard?" Jack observed her with concern.
"…No, c-cough! I'm fine." Eric raised her hand to her throat; the roller coaster had already returned to the station.
She was alive. Her head remained intact. She had won her wager.
Inhaling deeply, she cherished each breath and could not suppress a smile.
This dungeon…
She now comprehended fully how to prevail.
Rather than the children finding joy in the amusement rides themselves, the stamps were granted only when the player leading them—the teacher—fulfilled the children's desires; that constituted true completion.
Difficult? Yet simple—one merely needed to satisfy the children's wishes.
Simple? Who could so unwaveringly wager their very life within illusions? What if the gamble ended in fatality?
Though Eric had hesitated not at all just moments before, recalling her choices now awakened an insidious tendril of fear.
Decapitation!
What if she failed to grasp the ride and Jack escaped her hold, resulting in her own grievous beheading?
Severed from life, she would not even have the chance to employ a healing kit.
The loss of her head had been too instantaneous within the illusion; her mind had been utterly devoid of thought.
Now, emerging from the phantasm, the agonizing sensation of the noose slicing inch by inch through her throat played vividly within her memory; she could even recall the chilling sound of her windpipe tearing, bones being severed…
Cold sweat beaded at her temple; nausea churned within her stomach. Unable to restrain herself, she leaned out of the carriage and vomited with a wretching cry.
"Hey, hey! Aim for the grass outside when you're puking!" a staff member shouted admonishingly.
After the purge, Eric felt markedly better.
With Jack's stamp freshly imprinted on her card, Eric wiped the perspiration from her brow and asked, "Which attraction next?"
"The Mirror Maze!" Patrick exclaimed excitedly.
The queue before the Mirror Maze was long, and neighboring it was the haunted house, also with an considerable line. Eric noticed students clad in the Huangquan Road Elementary School uniform emerging without their guiding players nearby.
Two players thus lost already; with only seven players total in this party, the mortality rate was grim.
Eric steeled herself, determined to remain vigilant and unyielding.
Outside the maze stood a large explanatory poster. Eric studied it attentively, discerning that the Mirror Maze was simply a labyrinth composed of mirrors.
Constructed from various mirror materials, it compounded the difficulty of orienting oneself.
Within the waiting NPCs, voices exchanged opinions.
"I don't think it's hard; if you get confused by the mirrors, just reach out and touch—feel the mirror, that's a wall, follow it along."
"I really don't want to play—I get dizzy just looking at so many mirrors."
"Come on, come on, keep me company…"
Yet Eric's mind turned inward: unlike the prior three attractions, the Mirror Maze lacked overt mortal peril; how would Patrick respond?
At last, their turn arrived and Eric entered alongside Patrick and the others.
The interior lighting was dim; mirrored walls enclosed them on all sides, ceiling to floor. The design was baffling—layers upon layers of reflections. Upon stepping in, Eric saw a myriad of her own reflections, an immediate dizziness washing over her. She resolved not to scan rapidly, lest she unseat herself with nausea.
"Wow! Look! So many of me!" Patrick bounded about, striking poses before his reflections, drawing teasing from classmates for vanity, which he dismissed, continuing unabated. The closest mirrors reflected him full-sized, progressively shrinking into mere dark specks at the maze's recesses.
Eric divided her attention—half on the maze's bewildering complexity, half on Patrick's exuberance.
Patrick's boundless energy soon separated their group from other visitors. Not long after, the students began to scatter; Eric remained close to Patrick until, in a fleeting lapse, he vanished.
Spinning in place, Eric searched among the left-right, up-down reflections of herself for any sign of Patrick.
"Patrick?" she called.
The mirrors rippled like water, and in the nearest reflection, her features twisted grotesquely; though expressionless, the mirrored image smiled at her.
Unperturbed, she pressed onward.
The maze became increasingly chaotic; she wandered endlessly, finding no exit. Countless reflections mimicked diverse gestures and expressions, densely packed like spectral phantoms—any faltering resolve might well shatter sanity.
Turning about, utterly lost, she glanced upward; her overhead reflection beamed a foolish grin.
"I would never smile so silly," she muttered, drawing a deep breath and closing her eyes.
Deprived of sight, she no longer succumbed to the labyrinth's deceptive illusions.
She felt her way forward, skirting mirrors, guided by a faint breeze in the air as she sought egress.
This strategy proved effective, yet this was no ordinary challenge—it was a supernatural dungeon.
Soon, as her hand extended to navigate, it brushed a cold finger.
Instantly, Eric's body seized with rigidity; a cold sweat broke forth in torrents.
The thrill was overwhelming.
She immediately withdrew her hand—
Effortless.
Opening her eyes, she beheld a mirror reflecting her face, smiling at her.
Where was the finger? Nowhere.