At first it seemed like the acceptance letter from Carnival Island was too good to be true - free on-site accommodation and food, access to all rides at all times and five hour work shifts every day for the entire three month contract. Jay felt like he'd hit the employment jackpot, eagerly awaiting his start date and the long ferry ride out to his new workplace thirty miles out at sea.
The island used to be called the Isle of Awyrgda and had never been permanently inhabited for as long as any national historical record states. Spanning twelve miles roughly in all directions, every inch of the island had been covered in carnival themed rides with tram-tracks instead of pavements.
It was certainly unique however it meant that there was literally nowhere you could go solely by foot, you had no choice but to hop from one tranquil tram carriage to another until you reached your intended ride. There were complaints initially but the inherent laziness of people won over eventually and it was greatly appreciated (ignoring the catastrophic environmental affects the entire construction had by removing ninety-eight percent of all organic material on the island).
Jay was swept from the docks as soon as a costumed employee spotted him, being dragged though tram after tram until they both stood in front of a drop-ride known as "Big Man's Mallet" for the distinctive hammer shape of the seats. Apparently this was the closest way to get to the staff rooms which were situated beneath the ground floor, commonly known to the staff as the guest floor or overground.
The staff area was a mimicry of the overground, every inch decorated in neon carnival themed statues and murals that smothered the myriad of buildings that glowed in the dim caves beneath the island. Jay was taken to what would be his home for the next three months, the former occupant having been attacked by an island guest and left in critical condition.
This was quite concerning as Jay had thought he'd just be showing people where to go and maybe cleaning up sometimes instead of consoling the irate, the irrational and the downright incongruous requests they spewed from the moment they set foot on the island's dock.
He never made it past his first shift, having been repeatedly warned against going in the rides and told to stay beneath the tracks when in uniform, even though he was wearing a similar mask to the rest of his colleagues. This was their trick to make the guests think they were always accompanied by the same caring companion when in actuality it made the staff a faceless target for the guest's newfound rage.
All it takes it one "rigged" game to cause a snowball of outrage that often lead to staff casualties and due to the island's remote location, their best option was to take injured staff away in groups, replacing them as soon as possible and praying the newer ones would last longer.
Even though Jay had done his best to keep out of sight while on cleanup patrol, he was spotted by an older couple who'd spent their day trying to find a staff member to be responsible for the money they'd spent in the casino. They stalked Jay back down to the underbelly of the island, where the rest of the staff limped from the crowded makeshift hospital to their rooms, then they waited for everything to get real busy.
If the panic was big enough then nobody would notice that they'd killed one or two greedy and corrupt employees until it was too late. They'd never be identified - there were no cameras down here and far too few on the overground, most having been wrecked by guests so as to preserve their anonymity when "dealing" with the staff.
Exactly two weeks after Jay's contract had expired his family received a letter saying that Jay had stolen from the company and fled the island, heading out into the ocean on one of their shuttle boats, never to be seen again. Of course this was partially true, he'd gone out to see in a shuttle boat that contained the remains of seven other former staff members, each weighted and tossed overboard, each having been caught by a guest and each having paid for imaginary crimes.
The island used to be called the Isle of Awyrgda and had never been permanently inhabited for as long as any national historical record states. Spanning twelve miles roughly in all directions, every inch of the island had been covered in carnival themed rides with tram-tracks instead of pavements.
It was certainly unique however it meant that there was literally nowhere you could go solely by foot, you had no choice but to hop from one tranquil tram carriage to another until you reached your intended ride. There were complaints initially but the inherent laziness of people won over eventually and it was greatly appreciated (ignoring the catastrophic environmental affects the entire construction had by removing ninety-eight percent of all organic material on the island).
Jay was swept from the docks as soon as a costumed employee spotted him, being dragged though tram after tram until they both stood in front of a drop-ride known as "Big Man's Mallet" for the distinctive hammer shape of the seats. Apparently this was the closest way to get to the staff rooms which were situated beneath the ground floor, commonly known to the staff as the guest floor or overground.
The staff area was a mimicry of the overground, every inch decorated in neon carnival themed statues and murals that smothered the myriad of buildings that glowed in the dim caves beneath the island. Jay was taken to what would be his home for the next three months, the former occupant having been attacked by an island guest and left in critical condition.
This was quite concerning as Jay had thought he'd just be showing people where to go and maybe cleaning up sometimes instead of consoling the irate, the irrational and the downright incongruous requests they spewed from the moment they set foot on the island's dock.
He never made it past his first shift, having been repeatedly warned against going in the rides and told to stay beneath the tracks when in uniform, even though he was wearing a similar mask to the rest of his colleagues. This was their trick to make the guests think they were always accompanied by the same caring companion when in actuality it made the staff a faceless target for the guest's newfound rage.
All it takes it one "rigged" game to cause a snowball of outrage that often lead to staff casualties and due to the island's remote location, their best option was to take injured staff away in groups, replacing them as soon as possible and praying the newer ones would last longer.
Even though Jay had done his best to keep out of sight while on cleanup patrol, he was spotted by an older couple who'd spent their day trying to find a staff member to be responsible for the money they'd spent in the casino. They stalked Jay back down to the underbelly of the island, where the rest of the staff limped from the crowded makeshift hospital to their rooms, then they waited for everything to get real busy.
If the panic was big enough then nobody would notice that they'd killed one or two greedy and corrupt employees until it was too late. They'd never be identified - there were no cameras down here and far too few on the overground, most having been wrecked by guests so as to preserve their anonymity when "dealing" with the staff.
Exactly two weeks after Jay's contract had expired his family received a letter saying that Jay had stolen from the company and fled the island, heading out into the ocean on one of their shuttle boats, never to be seen again. Of course this was partially true, he'd gone out to see in a shuttle boat that contained the remains of seven other former staff members, each weighted and tossed overboard, each having been caught by a guest and each having paid for imaginary crimes.
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