20180529

Day 1,359

The fairgrounds were always set up overnight, fleeing after the first death leaving little more than torn flyers scattered about the town - their hunting grounds - like neon confetti. Most people seem to agree that it's never the same one twice though the staff never change. They'll say they don't know you, that they've never been to these parts before yet the next year they'll be back again, un-ageing and uncaring for the trail of broken bodies they leave behind.

Every year they replace the last death-ride for something new, something that won't kill for another few towns at least. Nobody quite knows what they do with the old rides, whether they are sold for scrap metal, exchanged with another overnight fairground or whether they are incorporated into the newer rides.

Whatever they are doing, it doesn't change the fact that Death follows them. They say He rides a different attraction every year, choosing someone from the crowds to join Him and the fairgrounds all know Him by name. Some people even go so far as to say that they are in some kind of pact with Death, a new soul every year in exchange for immortality.

It's a reasonable deal.

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