I imagine you’re already distracted. So, take this story somewhere quieter, away from your mother binge-watching, and the sharp click-clack of acrylic nails typing away. Lock the door. It’s time for the story to unfold.

Ludric had his own escape. His apartment stunk like a fish market, the tap water always a murky. It was just another Sunday, filled with his neighbor’s ritual hammering another family photo on the wall. Ludric couldn’t stand it. The stale air, the constant noise, the suffocating weight of everything around him. So, he left. He wandered to the outskirts of Vienna, as far from the noise as his legs could carry him. The city’s chatter faded, replaced by the hollow sound of his own footsteps. His mind still buzzed, though, swirling around the same thought, the one that had been started since he pulled those tarot cards. What could possibly stop his train of thought? Ludric envied those who seemed born with empty, serene minds, as if mental stillness was their birthright. They never had to overthink, never wrestled with an endless spiral of noise. Their thoughts, if they even had any, floated by like clouds. But for Ludric, his mind was a chaotic space that he had to run outside, seeking wide open spaces where the chaos might feel smaller. If only he could stop it. Just for a moment. He felt a presence behind him, a low menancing hissing sound. Ludric’s heart jumped and turned. A stray dog, all teeth crept toward him. Ludric ran, his pulse pounding in his ears, the dog at his heels. He threw one shoe at the dog in desperation, and then—suddenly—the world shifted. Lights. Music. Neon in the distance. The funfair appeared like a mirage, shimmering through the trees, pulling him in. At the entrance of the funfair, the air hit him first—sweet and thick with the smell of cotton candy, popcorn, and fried dough. Then the sounds followed: carnival rides creaking, eerie music in the air, and yet… no people. Not a single person in sight. The place was abandoned, but the lights flickered on, as if they had been waiting just for him.

The carousel caught his attention. Its tune was soft but unsettling, like a lullaby sung in the wrong key. The horses, frozen in mid-gallop, seemed to stare at him, their painted eyes following his every move. The noises of the funfair grew louder, filling the air, pressing against his skull, drowning out the clutter in his mind. He welcomed it, letting the chaos push away the thoughts that had been clawing at him all day. It was almost… peaceful. If you zoomed out from where Ludric stood, the funfair would look like a labyrinth, winding and twisting in ways that defied logic. It wasn’t designed for fun, not really. It was a trap, much like a casino, pulling you in, making you lose your way, and keeping you in the spiral of lights and noise. In the middle of this strange carnival maze stood the ghost train. It looked old, painted in garish 80s horror designs, the kind you’d see on the cover of a B-movie.

The carriages were chipped, and the paint faded, but something about it called to him. Maybe it was the promise of an escape. At the ticket booth stood a gorilla—or at least a man dressed like one, with a cheap, oversized costume that looked more depressing than scary. Ludric didn’t think twice. He approached the booth, and the gorilla handed him a plastic water gun. Russian roulette. Of course. Ludric winked. The gorilla counted down. Ludric’s grip tightened on the toy. Before he could react, the gorilla pressed a button on his belly, squirting Ludric in the face with a burst of water. The gorilla sighed, shaking his head as if disappointed, and with a flick of his wrist, the gate to the ghost train swung open. Ludric stepped into the carriage. The atmosphere changed instantly. Cold, damp air wrapped around him, and the faint smell of something rotting crept in. A painting shone in front of him—a grotesque mural of a green-skinned man with long, blood-red nails, chasing a little girl in a blue dress. She clutched cotton candy in one hand, her shiny black shoes sparkling in the dim light. The sight made Ludric’s stomach turn.

The gorilla laughed again saying: “Na, herzlich willkommen zu einer geistigen Achterbahnfahrt auf der Geisterbahn.” Ludric barely had time to process the words before a soft, eerie nursery rhyme whispered through the air, brushing against the back of his neck. He didn’t dare turn around.

The train lurched forward, and darkness swallowed him whole. Psycho puppets—chained, screaming, —jumped out at him from every direction. Their faces twisted in exaggerated horror, mouths wide open, eyes bulging. They felt too close like they could reach out and pull him into their madness. Colors exploded around him—purple, red, blue, orange—filling his vision in a disorienting blur. The adrenaline hit hard, coursing through his veins. His mind went blank, an emptiness that felt almost euphoric. For a brief moment, he was free. Free from the noise. Free from everything. The train shot deeper into the tunnel. Everything was wrong, twisted, like a nightmarish version of the tarot cards he had pulled earlier. The carriage spun violently, a full 360 degrees, throwing him against the seat. “What the hell?” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the screeching sound of baby puppets crying, electric shock chairs buzzing in the background.

Then he saw them. His neighbors were chained to the wall, red balls stuffed into their mouths, their eyes wide open. It looked like some twisted family photo, a tableau of domestic horror gone horribly wrong. The train continued and there, suspended upside down was the stray dog on an aerial hoop like a trapeze artist. The final scene unraveled like a cruel joke. Ludric’s mother, sitting in front of the TV, watching a terrible show: Die Wiener Geisterbahn. She cackled,. “Oh, my son, my poor son.” She rolled off the sofa, smashing the remote to pieces, and the TV went off. And then… silence.

Ludric disappeared after that. No one heard from him again. Maybe he finally escaped. Or maybe, just maybe, he became the gorilla at the ticket booth, eagerly waiting to scare the living daylights out of you.