There's a shop in town that is only open February 29th and for the 23 hours it's open hundreds of people try to cram themselves inside, only to never be seen or heard from again. Local authorities have tried everything they could to stop this from guarding the door and boarding it up with thick metal sheets (not knowing that there were a dozen or so entrances hidden throughout the town). They even went so far as to try and obtain council permissions to demolish the building as a "public safety concern", all the while not realising that over half of the council had plans to visit the shop the minute it opened.
Now the shop itself isn't anything unusual at first, just another dull green building with frosted glass windows and a sign outside reading "Leap" in large brown letters. There were no staff, no products to purchase or trade and most importantly - no refunds.
People went there for the experience, even if they came out so utterly changed that they were declared missing and presumed to have died alongside countless others before them. It would begin when you bypassed whatever security measures the police had set up or alternatively using one of the many hidden doors.
The one used for this example resides in the unused men's bathroom on the third floor of a multi-storey pub. You have to knock twice on the second cubicle before it opens to reveal an arched doorway with the shop's interior somehow on the other side. From there leaflets dotted around the room offer a multitude of things for you to experience but you can only choose one. With 23 hours and a constant crowd it's always tough for people to make any kind of decision, let alone the right one.
See there are "trip" leaflets, ones that lead to a sudden and painful death if you input their code onto one of the many mobile phones lying around the shop. Which brings me to another thing about Leap, bodies don't seem to stay there, they just sort of sink (often helped by the impatient feet of anyone else trying to get to a mobile or leaflet nearby). No remains are ever found.
Those who choose one of the right options are given exactly what the leaflet promises, be it a chance to kill with no negative repercussions, defacing ancient works of art or even a peek into the bases of top military authority and access to their classified information.
The way Leap charges for these services, these once in a life time opportunities isn't with cash - what would a shop do with cash when it has no staff and technically no existence? Leap takes whatever you were, however you looked, however you spoke and gives you the random features of whoever else attended that day. You lose yourself and become a hybrid of everyone else who, just like you, took the Leap and survived.
Now the shop itself isn't anything unusual at first, just another dull green building with frosted glass windows and a sign outside reading "Leap" in large brown letters. There were no staff, no products to purchase or trade and most importantly - no refunds.
People went there for the experience, even if they came out so utterly changed that they were declared missing and presumed to have died alongside countless others before them. It would begin when you bypassed whatever security measures the police had set up or alternatively using one of the many hidden doors.
The one used for this example resides in the unused men's bathroom on the third floor of a multi-storey pub. You have to knock twice on the second cubicle before it opens to reveal an arched doorway with the shop's interior somehow on the other side. From there leaflets dotted around the room offer a multitude of things for you to experience but you can only choose one. With 23 hours and a constant crowd it's always tough for people to make any kind of decision, let alone the right one.
See there are "trip" leaflets, ones that lead to a sudden and painful death if you input their code onto one of the many mobile phones lying around the shop. Which brings me to another thing about Leap, bodies don't seem to stay there, they just sort of sink (often helped by the impatient feet of anyone else trying to get to a mobile or leaflet nearby). No remains are ever found.
Those who choose one of the right options are given exactly what the leaflet promises, be it a chance to kill with no negative repercussions, defacing ancient works of art or even a peek into the bases of top military authority and access to their classified information.
The way Leap charges for these services, these once in a life time opportunities isn't with cash - what would a shop do with cash when it has no staff and technically no existence? Leap takes whatever you were, however you looked, however you spoke and gives you the random features of whoever else attended that day. You lose yourself and become a hybrid of everyone else who, just like you, took the Leap and survived.
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