#old jurassic park animatronics left to rot

[dragonofthemountain]

got sad thinking about abandoned animatronics again :(

[faiteach]

Fine. Fine! I’ll write it down. 

Another nightmare. Another terrifying amalgamation of my thoughts, feelings and experiences. Caricatures of my inner demons. 

We were on vacation. Me, my mom, my dad. 

In any heavily tourist-infested travel destination there is an area usually referred to as “The Strip”. It’s the area where all of the money pits full of knick-knacks centralize themselves---that one strip of road that is lined with bars, restaurants, candy shops, and various stores full of cliche destination-themed t-shirts, toys and souvenirs. 

We were walking down one of these. It was full of people, and we were annoyed. As much as my parents love spending money on travel trinkets, they also hate crowds. Well, my dad and I hate crowds and our irritation rubs off on my mother who spends the entire time waiting anxiously for my dad to mutter something embarrassingly misanthropic within earshot of anyone easily offended. 

I spotted a candy store and had the bright idea to drag my dad inside. In my dream, he was like he is now: shuffling, mostly blind, 7 years on dialysis and in complete denial about his inability to function on his own in public. I was doing my best to play the game I always do: carefully guiding him while still giving him enough of an illusion of independence to avoid frustrating him into a state of childish rage. But I was also distracted by the sheer size of this candy store. It was a warehouse of candy. There was chocolate bars and gummy bears and even cheetos and chips. But if you’re picturing a sweet confectioners shop of brightly lit pastels and white panels, you’d be wrong. This place was more like a Home Depot. The look and feel of it was quick & dirty functionality more than style. Cardboard boxes full of name brand chocolate bars and other such candies were stacked on open metal shelves up to the ceiling. Despite it’s size, the place was crowded. Everything was slightly too close together. Boxes were spilling out into the aisles. People were crowding around and grabbing handfuls of things, pushing and shoving through the tight walkways. I kept losing track of my dad. When I did, I would wander on my own for a minute and try to figure out what the hell this place was about. It was bigger than it looked on the outside. There was another floor down below. If you could push your way in far enough, you could see it through a wide, oval opening in the first floor. It looked like an aquarium with touch pools, and other live animal exhibits. 

I went to find my dad so I could show him. I had to describe what I was seeing, because he can’t really see things for himself anymore. I told him I theorized that this was more of gift shop for a museum than a candy store. We decided to explore it further. 

We had a nice time looking around but eventually the size of the crowds became too much of an obstacle. We lost interest in trying to see the rest of this weird place. But before we could think about trying to find our way back out, we both needed a bathroom. Have you ever been in a really, terribly crowded grocery store? You’re trying to find the stuff on your list but you’re also dodging people left and right, who appear to block your path at every opportunity, always showing up right where you need them to not be, until you’re ready to just ditch your cart, climb the aisles, and leap from shelf to shelf just to get away? This place was worse than that. People were everywhere and there was no apparent order to the way it was laid out. Trying to find our way around, even just to find a wall and start following it until it opened into a bathroom, became impossible. We were forced to find an associate to ask but even that proved impossible. Did anyone even work there? 

Finally we asked a group of people where to go and they directed us further down into the building. We ended up in a place that looked like an abandoned warehouse, or someone’s filthy sub-level basement. There was no floor, every inch was covered in clothes, toys, cardboard boxes, and random refuse of all kinds. Some areas you had to climb like snowbanks just to move forward. The bathroom, when we found it, was a tiny, porta-potty-sized room, jutting out of a brick wall, with an old wooden door that wouldn’t close. 

Dad did his business while I stood watch to warn people away before they could get close enough to see him through the parted door cause his sense of privacy is stronger than mine. I helped him back upstairs before trying it myself and I just left the door wide open because ever since the military I don’t really care about peeing in front of people. Other people made their way down to use the facilities and one guy just walked right up and started talking to me. He was saying crazy things, like “They won’t let us leave” and “How long do you think you’ll make it with the old man in tow?” 

Confused, irritated, and anxious, I stumbled through the debris and back up into the crowded candy shop to find my dad. 

Turns out, They wouldn’t let us leave. We couldn’t even find a way back out. When night fell, things got weird. The crowd was rounded up and separated into groups. Our group was brought into a new room, with a second story balcony and lots of raised seating. It was made of crumbling dark wood, and the place was mostly in shadow, save for the center which was lit by a blinding ring of jerry-rigged spotlights. The center of the wooden floor was caved in, like the wood beams had simply rotted and spilled the floor down into a dusty, cavernous basement. The wood floor formed a kind of ramp, down into the darkness. Someone had erected a railing around the other side of the hole. At the top of the “ramp” a series of what looked like seats from a carnival ride had been arranged together and attached to metal arms. 

They directed us into the seats. Made us strap in. The others we were with seemed like they knew what to expect, and the hopeless, terrified misery on their faces did very little to reassure me. Once were were all buckled in, They backed away and we were left alone, staring down into the dark abyss of the basement through the glaring haze of spotlights above. 

There was a deep, throat clenching rumble, the scrape of scales and sharp points against old wood. Our hair and clothes were pulled forward, as something inhaled, then a hot, rancid wind gusted toward us. The suggestion of a shape moved in the darkness. 

When the beast emerged, screaming sonorous murder, my first thought was denial. It must be an animatronic. This place is part aquarium, part candy store,  part haunted house thrill ride. It’s like the Jurassic park roller coaster in Florida---they’ll wave our seats around toward the big, snapping T-rex head and we’ll scream in delighted terror and then the ride will be over. 

There was a thud, and the seats moved forward. Slowly, achingly, they groaned toward the dinosaur in the basement. I heard and felt the reverberations as the beast took a step toward us. It sniffed again, it’s scaly nose brushed a man’s foot and he screamed. The beast roared again and they jerked the seats upward. The teeth crashed together just below us. All of us were screaming now. 

The rest is a blur. The girl next to me was snatched right out of her seat, leaving nothing but a bloody seatbelt dangling beside me. I still remember the way her bones sounded as they snapped all at once. 

This happened every night. We’d be marched in, strapped down, and put on the worst carnival ride of all time. No matter how much I preached rebellion to my companions, they all maintained their despair. There was nothing you could do. There was no way to get out. Just hope it isn’t you the next night, and eat the candy during the day. 

Finally one night, I simply could not face the beast again. As we were marched toward our seats I filled with an unquenchable fear that sparked an instinctual flight response so deep, I simply took off running. There were cries of alarm from behind me, but I didn’t care. I just kept going. I ran under the balcony into the shadows and found a door. From there, I went through a maze-like montage of doors, rooms full of debris and dust, clamoring over piles of random junk, until I made it outside. 

The rest of the dream was about me fleeing through a city that looked suspiciously like Ancient Egypt (thanks AC: Origins lol) while being pursued by someone that was only referred to as Red Riding Hood. When people I asked for help found out where I had come from, they would practically cross themselves and say “Begone! Before She catches up to you!” I saw her a few times and sure enough, she was always wearing a huge red cloak or a red dress. I couldn’t escape her in the city so I decided to find a way out which is when I learned that no one got “out” of the city, they got “off of” it. Turns out the city was on the back of some huge, Howl’s Moving Castle-type machine and when it stopped for a rest I hopped off the edge and then I woke up.