Static Road
S1: EP 8
False Zone
Published on August 17, 2025
Plastic flags flap in the stale breeze. The boy steps off the road and into a parking lot washed pale by time. A flickering arch reads:
WELCOME TO THE YELLOW ZONE.
The letters blink out of order. The “W” buzzes. The “Y” sags.
Ruckus growls low. Not fear. Something closer to confusion.
A half-collapsed carnival stretches ahead. Tilt-a-Whirl cars half-buried in weeds. A carousel turning with no music. Everything smells like cotton candy and bleach.
He spots a booth still lit. A smiling attendant stands behind the glass. Red vest. Headset. Too still.
More figures line the tents and rides, all posed in welcome. All smiling. Wide.
Too wide.
The boy steps closer. A loudspeaker crackles to life above them.
“Welcome, traveler. You’ve made it.”
The sound loops.
“Welcome. You’ve made it.”
The smiles don’t move. But they hold. Too long.
One twitches.
He stops. Eyes catch on the corner of the attendant’s mouth. It splits. Not open, but apart. A thin thread of blood slips down her chin.
Another smile splits. Then another.
A spark skips through the loudspeaker cable. The voice glitches.
“Wel—wel—welcome…”
Ruckus barks once. Then lunges. Teeth on his pack. Yanks him sideways.
They run.
No countdown. No plan.
He doesn’t look back.
But in the carousel mirrors, the grinning mouths keep stretching, tearing at the seams.
Mobile, Alabama – 30.7° North, 88.0° West