The next day I was back with Wilco and Chris in the workshop. While I'd been off working with Scott on the sliced bread stunt, the two of them had made a lot of progress on the robotic and manually controlled perils they'd been working on.

We'd had word from Uncle Morbid that he wanted to be ready to do the first outdoor Masquerade of the year as soon as possible and we were now not too far off from making that a reality. We still didn't have a proper constricting snake (the robotic tube Wilco had set loose on me worked better as a vine), but Big Gulp and the puppet-controlled Sadie Coils were good to go, with a few other animals in progress throughout the workshop including a giant salamander that lolloped along and performed various actions through a combination of animatronics and manual puppetry. Scott was bringing up a backhoe to start preparing the quicksand pools and there were plenty of spaces around the cantina and woodland clearings to set up whatever smaller deathplays were called for. Craig and Rebecca came up from the kitchen to see what we were planning and made notes on any special liquids we'd be needing.

Mostly we were working on the area with the carnivorous plants, which we had now given the official title of the Hungry Garden. We had an idea for a special event that would be a kind of easter egg hunt played by a large group of spirits at a time in an area set up with multiple plant traps waiting to devour the unwary (or willing, as the case may be).

For the various plants around the Hungry Garden, I'd helped out with a little research of my own in Morior's library, between all of us we'd worked out four main categories of people-eating plants as described in literature and popular culture.

The simplest were the trappers, static flora that would lure in their prey with sweet smells or psychedelic visions before immobilising and slowly digesting them. The real botanical version of these would be pitcher plants, liquid filled containers into which unwary flies would slip to be immersed in digestive juice. We could build human-size versions of these for people to slide into and had Craig and Rebecca working on an appropriate liquid to fill them with. We could have just used water, but they'd be able to come up with something a little more viscous, organic and aromatic, something that felt closer to the digestive juices of a carnivorous plant without actually dunking people in acid.

A more mythical and beautiful trapper was Captain Arkwright's Death Flower of El Banoor, a large sweet smelling bloom which wanderers would venture into and fall asleep, where they would be consumed. This was a lovely away-with-the-fairies notion that we couldn't easily translate for deathplay purposes (we certainly weren't going to poison anybody), but we could have versions of the flower as an aesthetic prop and Craig and Rebecca could pipe in some sweet smells. If anyone did actually fall asleep or decide to play dead in there, that would be their business, we'd just take them off to Limbo.

Then there came the munchers, like big venus flytraps. I'd already been eaten by one of Wilco's prototype munchers on my first tour of the jungle, they were the most direct form of plant trap – the victim enters and gets closed up in a pair of jaws. They could then either be held there or slipped down into a belly area, like our old friend Big Gulp the Bullfrog.

The shamblers were walking trees, the Triffids being the most famous example from popular culture. In the movies these were really just slow moving monsters that happened to be plants, so the way to realise them would be as costumes operated by angels and stagehands. To help delegate the job of constructing these, Uncle Morbid introduced us to Hannah and Jess, a pair of sewing and textiles experts who worked in the office and had a sewing studio in one of the upstairs rooms of the main house. There hadn't previously been a lot of creative needlework for them to do at Morior; spirits provided their own costumes for the Masquerade, angels and stagehands wore stock uniforms and the visiting film crews that rented Morior's facilities brought their own wardrobe departments. So they were delighted to finally have a chance to get stuck in and show what they could do. They had a meeting with Wilco to discuss his concept sketches and got to work.

The final and most technically difficult plant group to make real were the tanglers, which would tie up the victim with moving vines and either drag them to a leafy doom or suck out their blood like the roots of a tree. This was the perfect application for Wilco's robo-constrictors – he and Chris had made a bunch more of them to deploy around the garden, built into fake bushes of twisting branches and tendrils. They weren't strong enough to drag anyone anywhere, but they could immobilise and envelope, as I had felt first hand. The mere suggestion of them being vampire vines would be enough to stimulate the experience.

The central climax of the Hungry Garden would be the ritual spectacle of the Madagascan Sacrifice Tree, from which the surviving players would try to retrieve the final eggs. Wilco had already set out the basic structure and surrounding area, then he and Chris had worked together to bring the other aspects of the mythical plant to life. It combined elements from three of the four categories – the honey trap at the top of the plant filled with mysterious liquid, the tangler vines that would immobilise the victim and the huge, thorned trap leaves that would then close upon them. It wasn't going to walk anywhere, but it did have a suggestion of sentience in the way it would select and execute its prey. The story that described it also provided a detailed ritual surrounding the tree, making it a striking and foreboding "boss" monster.

We set up a large map of the area on one wall of the workshop, which we marked off with the planned locations for the different types of plants. Those that had already been constructed were loaded onto the truck and taken into position, the rest listed on a tally board to be worked on in the coming weeks. As most of the technical invention had been done by Chris and Wilko, what remained was art and craft work I was perfectly able to help with, so finally we were all working together on the same job.

It was as we sat crafting together that I finally got to learn about Wilco's past life and death, also why he did not take part in deathplays himself.

Wilco came from a modest background similar to my own. Also like me, he was bullied and alienated at school, so withdrew into art and model making inspired by a love of zoology and jungle adventure yarns. He had a brother he sometimes played with, but he had more conventional mainstream tastes and didn't share in his world building. Wilco was also a boy scout, which fitted in better with his spirit of wilderness and adventure. His parents saved up so he could go to camp, which was one of his most cherished childhood memories.

Amongst his animal models, drawings and scrapbooking he developed the fantasy alter-ego of Will Cobold, a jungle adventurer who would tussle with fantastic creatures in unexplored locations. Will Cobold was a heroic superman figure who relished danger, sought out lost treasures and protected the innocent from injustice. But one thing he didn't do was get the girl.

Wilco realised soon into puberty that he was gay. His family were supportive, making it clear they would love and support him no matter what, but he couldn't speak about it at school, it would have been the end of him. The schoolyard was a culture of adolescent porn fantasies and Roy Chubby Brown jokes, homosexuality existed as a punchline and a punching target in that order. He could expect no defense from the teachers – at that time the establishment expected you to follow the two point four children life plan and not be a problem. So he kept his head down and joined in the jokes and banter even though it killed him inside.

His artistic and technical talents enabled him to attend art college on a bursary. While there he met and fell in love with a student from a middle class background by the name of Phillip. They were a couple for two years until Phillips' parents, who were deeply unaccepting of his homosexuality in general and his relationship with Wilco in particular, delivered an ultimatum that he break off the relationship or lose all support and contact with them.

The parallel to my experience with Maise was obvious, except that Maise had the strength and confidence to stand up to her parents' prejudices, one of the many things I loved her for. Tragically, Phillip did not have that strength and did as they demanded, sending Wilco into a deep depression that ended with him taking his own life.

"When I hit total recall on this plane, I was utterly ashamed," he recounted. "I was heartbroken and angry that Phillip hadn't been able to fight for our relationship, but I didn't fight for him either. I knew he loved his parents even if he was scared of them, but it was unforgivable that they put him the position they did. They fucked with his head, made him deny who he was, and I should have helped him through that. It wasn't about money, we would have found a way, and honestly if he'd called their bluff they would have been forced to accept him and us eventually. But when he took their side I just moped into self pity and was angry with him instead of them. When I kicked that chair away to hang myself I knew it was a mistake, that I was turning injustice into tragedy and leaving the man I love to live forever with the knowledge of my suicide, not to mention my own family who had always been there for me. None of them deserved what I put them through, not a day has gone by when I didn't wish I could go back, show up as a ghost if I had to, beg all of their forgiveness. But that's not how it works, is it?

"I can't remember all the details of how I wound up at Morior, but I was hired here first as a set painter before Uncle Morbid took me under his wing and started training me up in special effects techniques. Most of the aesthetic stuff you see around here is my work. Scott taught me a lot too – all this stuff we're doing with the jungle and the Hungry Garden would never have been possible without everything the two of them taught me.

"I found out about the Mortal Masquerade around the same time I hit total recall – that seems to be a pattern with everyone I meet here. I thought it was wonderfully eccentric and I loved being a part of creating something that made so many interesting people feel alive. But when they gave me the chance to do a deathplay myself, to become a part of the family of spirits and angels, I couldn't do it. I created an avatar and chose the music just like you did, on the night they set up a huge ornate guillotine for me, but as I stood before it I knew it wasn't what I wanted and stepped back. Everyone was really supportive, it has to be a willing decision or it doesn't work. There's long been an open invitation if I want to try again, but they're also happy to let me stay behind the scenes as a designer.

"I think the reason I ended up at the Mortal Masquerade is to realise that there are other ways, other releases, than the one I took. I envy you guys, you can toy with self destruction and come back cleansed and stronger, but I just have the knowledge that killing myself was by far the worst thing I ever did. That's why I don't do deathplays, it would just trigger me, take me right back to the day I gave up and let down everyone who ever knew and loved me. Uncle Morbid likes to say that you all play dead so you can choose life. But I had that choice for real and chose wrong."

It was a tragic tale with unerring similarities to my own. If Maise hadn't stood up to her parents, would I have been the one ending it at the end of a rope? I liked to think not, I'd learned to be tough when it came to defending my friends and my identity, but I also knew in the back of my mind that when I did eventually die after losing her and Chris I did not fight. Hell, I didn't even know for sure if the car that hit me had mounted the kerb. What if that was the day I gave up and stepped into traffic myself?

If I did, had I blocked the memory?

——-

That evening Maise and I went over to Debs' house to try on costumes for our new avatars. A few things had developed since the last time we were there, not least Debs' own antagonistic role as Amethyst Annie, who was referred to in the third person throughout the evening. Rafe also came by to discuss ideas for the extended roleplay we were about to embark upon.

Rafe and Debs had mapped out some narrative ideas which we would discover as the plot unfolded, while Maise and I planned to write in-character journals which we could share with them to influence the story from our end. At this point we knew only the basic premise – that we were to be pitted against each other over an inheritance left by a mysterious relative, which would be the means to bring us to the Mortal Masquerade and our reason for playing the games there. All we knew past that was that Elbert and Annie would cheat at every opportunity and we would have to find ways to outwit them.

As we went to try on outfits, Rafe went off into Debs' office to write up everything we'd discussed. Maise and I had decided that our characters would be sisters – it meant there could be no romantic angle between them, but it made it much easier to build them as a duo. For a common surname we had settled on Claydon, after an English village and stately home we found on a random map search. The clothes Debs had picked out for us were pitched at the end of the 19th century into the turn of the 20th, retaining the shapes and styles of the era but without the more immobilising hoop skirts and undergarments of previous decades. Debs also showed us how to get the correct shapes from modern corsetry and bras with cycle shorts instead of bloomers, which would give us a little more mobility for the physical challenges we would face. We selected black velvet eye masks to go with our avatars, less sparkly and showy than the sequinned ones we'd had as Anna and Sofia, but with a style of their own that would go with any look we chose.

We selected five or six outfits each, including full ball dresses, skirt and blouse ensembles and even men's suits, in case Larkin or Adelia chose to so disguise themselves at any point.

As we tried on each outfit, we gradually saw our two characters forming in the mirror before our eyes, my internal monologue shifting from my own voice to that of an educated and plucky adventurer from a time of wonder and curiosity, somebody patronised and underestimated by society but who saw in that opportunities for mischief and subversion. Maise slipped into the guise of Adelia as fluently as she always does. She would be the responsible one, the more authoritative and ladylike member of our duo, the elder sister who thought she was looking after me but who would probably be the one in need of rescue when the time came.

Before we left Rafe gave us an envelope addressed to Misses Larkin & Adelia Claydon, fastened with a wax seal. Neatly written beneath the seal were the words, "from the desk of Mr. E. Makabra Esq.".

We thanked them both for all their help and looked forward to that weekend's Masquerade, which would be the first proper meeting between our group of characters.

When we got back home, we opened the envelope. Inside was an exquisitely handwritten letter on good quality notepaper topped with a filigree letterhead.

The letter read:

Dear Misses Larkin and Adelia,

I wish to speak to the two of you on a matter of some delicacy. I have been tasked with acting as executor for the estate of your uncle Mr. George M Fairnhurst, who sadly passed away recently and left a sizable inheritance in his will, with certain conditions attached that must be explained in person. May I take this opportunity to offer my prayers and condolences for your loss, although I understand you had little recent contact with your Uncle.

There are some eccentricities in the wording of the will, including a sealed message which may only be opened in a particular location with all of us present. The location is a country hall where a masquerade ball is to be held this coming Saturday. I believe this event is connected in some way with Mr. Fairnhurst's instructions, whatever they may prove to be.

Please find enclosed full details of the location, time and dress code. I very much look forward to making your acquaintance.

Your faithful servant,

Mr. Elbert Makabra.