A Midnight Memory

Layton is stuck on the Midnight Carousel when a memory comes back to haunt him.

Photo by Sally K on Unsplash

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Today’s story is for Day 29 of Bradley Ramsey’s The Halls of Pandemonium.

I consider this one to be a slight retelling of some events from my Midnight Collective mini-series, so please read those first if you want to avoid spoilers.

Now like always, these stories contains topics of loss, grief, and general psychological horror. Please read only if you’re comfortable with that.

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A Midnight Memory.

Layton closed his eyes, attempting to ignore the inertia generated by the carousel. The wind smacking against his face, he heaved, throwing up air. And the memory of Alex, nuzzled itself gently into his chest.

The wind, as if reacting to his consciousness, suddenly died. The space around him felt quiet, full of uncertainty, but he dared not to open his eyes. Instead, sensing something off, he tightened up, and then he was knocked out.

Waking up, Layton found himself not at the carousel, nor with Alex. He was in a room, but not from any place in his recent memory. No, it wasn’t none of that. It was his Dad’s room, the night he finally discussed his new job offering.

He wasn’t supposed to say much, but Layton, then much younger, felt eager to share the news — only to be mortified by a bullet whizzing through the window right into his father’s chest.

Gasping, his father died in Layton’s arms, a memory he’d tried to suppress for decades.

It reminded Layton of when he attempted to walk Alex home on that forsaken night. His would-be target died in a similar fashion, but Layton didn’t get to fully process it.

And now, strapped into the chair bolstering Marcos’ Midnight Carousel, Layton shook and sobbed — wondering how it knew about those memories. There was something strange, psychologically haunting about the simulation. It felt like Layton’s mind was completely unraveling.

But little did he know, his mind had already gone hours ago. In fact, he’d been dead for hours — an unrealized ghost of Marcos’ own making.