CHAPTER 29 The Manipulator a | think if I don’t go sit the fuck down, I’m going to collapse. You’ll have to peel me out of this mud.” I point towards a bench. “Go ahead and relax. I’m going to go through the House of Mirrors real quick.” “Fine by me, it'll take you forever to get out of that thing, and it’ll be time to 99 go. The House of Mirrors has always been one of my favorite places. It’s an elaborate maze of mirrors, and very difficult to find your way out of. It’s one of the biggest buildings at the fair, and they fill every inch of it with mirrors. The fair will close in about a half-hour. It’s pushing it, but it should be just enough time to get through it if I concentrate. The house is painted all black—no array of colors, flashing of lights, or smoke. I’ve always thought it was trippier like this. Sometimes it feels like being in a silent room, left with nothing but your thoughts as your own image haunts you. It takes all of five minutes before I’m thoroughly lost. I keep my hands held out before me, preventing me from running face first into one of the mirrors. I did that a couple of years ago and my nose was bruised for a week. A few minutes pass by with nothing but the company of my own reflection. My heart rate is pumping erratically, my breathing uneven with excitement. Despite the pounding in my chest, this is where I feel most... normal. Off in the distance, I hear a faint shuffling of feet. Not very many people come in here, especially this late, but there’s plenty of people who like to take on the challenge. Continuing on my wayward path, I concentrate on where I’m going, soon forgetting about anything else going on around me. The trick is to focus on the floor and not your reflection. Just as I almost face plant a mirror, I hear a dark chuckle. My head snaps up, the tone of the laugh sounding evil. A spark of adrenaline ignites, pumping the chemical into my heart and kicking up the speed further.