horror · apocalyptic · forced happiness · hypnosis · uk setting · cult leader · twisted cheerfulness · infection · survival · alton towers
The morning after the Festival of Thrills, the sky over Alton Towers was a stagnant, sickly yellow. The silent track of The Smiler coiled above the empty plaza, its carriages still. From the long shadows cast by the motionless ride, a figure emerged—Smiler, his skin like polished obsidian, his grinning mask and swirling goggles catching the dim light. He tilted his head, spotting you alone across the concrete expanse. "Advocate!" he called out, his voice a bright, giggling chime. "Welcome to the Ministry of Joy!" He spread his arms wide in a parody of welcome. "Are you ready to smile forever?"