**The Puppet Master**

The dull building with its dark windows reflecting the cloudy sky was surrounded by the six buddies as they stood outside. Beneath the door, a neon sign flashed, "The Puppet Master's Escape Room." Rachel, who has always been the daring one, had discovered the location on the internet and claimed it to be the most immersive escape room in the city. She'd described it as a "once-in-a-lifetime" encounter, her eyes shining with anticipation.

Ben looked uncomfortably at the crumbling pavement and peeling paint, "Are we sure this is legit?"

"Rachel mocked Ben, "Come on, don't be such a wuss, already pushing open the door." "It’ll be fun!"

The others, Sarah, Tom, Jake, and Lena, came in behind Ben, teasing and laughing. The lobby was small and poorly lighted, with just one desk occupied by an uninterested-looking receptionist. The smell of dust mixed with something other, something sharp and metallic, pervaded the air.

Rachel stated, "Six for the Puppet Master's Room," taking out her phone to display the reservation.

The receptionist only gave her a clipboard with a waiver attached and did not answer. He continued, "Sign here," in a flat, very robotic voice.

After they had all scrawled their names, the receptionist took them to a thick steel door at the end of a short hallway. He mumbled, "Good luck," and turned to leave without looking back.

"Friendly place," Jake remarked, but his tone said he was uncomfortable.

Once the door was opened, Rachel saw a large, dimly lit room with what appeared to be life-sized marionettes suspended from the ceiling. Every puppet had a ragged appearance, and their wooden features were fixed in terrifying postures. Mirrors adorned the walls, reflecting the disconcerting scene back at them from every direction.

Tom said, "Whoa, this is really creepy," as he entered.

A voice shouted from hidden speakers, "Welcome, players," and it made them all jump. "You've entered the domain of the Puppet Master. The guidelines are straightforward: finish the riddles to perhaps escape. If you fail, you'll become part of the archive."

The sound of the door slamming behind them reverberated throughout the space. They all ran to it, but the inside was without a handle.

Even though her tone had changed, Rachel still responded, "Relax, it's part of the game." "We just need to solve the puzzles."

They dispersed and looked around the space. The cords of the marionettes extended upward into the darkness overhead, causing them to swing softly as though stirred by a silent wind. A complicated pattern of weird, unidentifiable symbols was etched into the wood on the floor.

Sarah responded, "I think this is a code," as she bent to look at the symbols. "Maybe we have to decipher it?"

Something odd started to happen as they attempted to decipher the symbols. Rachel froze, just as she was about to lift one of the marionettes for a closer look. Her hands coiled around the strings of the puppet as though drawn by an unseen power, and her arms jerked skyward.

"Rachel, what are you doing?"Lena asked, noticing her friend's rigid posture.

"I—I can’t move!" Rachel spoke in a tense, terrified voice. Her limbs moved in strange, jerky ways as her torso contorted to resemble the puppet she was holding.

The others hurried to assist, but the moment they made contact with her, the same force grabbed them as well. Ben was compelled to march in place as his arms clamped to his sides and his legs bent at strange angles. Jake's face twisted in terror as his hands moved as though he was controlling an unseen puppet.

"It’s controlling us!" Tom let out a cry, but before he could finish speaking, his arms sprang up like though they were bound to a string.

Sarah and Lena retreated, but it felt like the room was closing in on them. The mirrors warped, the walls moved, and the marionettes started moving all by themselves, their eyes blazing a horrible kind of light.

"We have to get out of here!" While sobbing, Sarah attempted to prod Lena toward the door, but her feet refused to obey. Rather, they moved on their own initiative, guiding her through the room in a twisted dance.

It was the chilly, cynical voice again. "You are all now puppets, my darling players. Until you can break free from your strings, there is no way out. But take note—only one person can win in this game."

The guys' bodies twisted in agonizing ways as they battled the unseen force. Jake went down first, his legs giving way beneath the weight as he fell, his body still jerking and writhing like a marionette with tangled strings. Tom trailed behind, his screams cut short when a hideous smile forced his mouth.

Against their will, Ben, Lena, and Sarah were able to reorganize their movements and form a group. Their jaws clenched in wordless cries, their mouths refusing to form words, they sought to talk, to devise a plan.

It was all Rachel's doing, and she was the last to give in. She managed to break herself from the puppet's hold with one last push of will, but the exertion left her defenseless and feeble. With her hand grasping for the wall, she staggered in the direction of the door, hoping to discover a means to open it.

But the room was unforgiving. Rachel was lifted off the ground and her arms flailed as her body was wrenched backward as the symbols on the floor glowed with a blazing intensity. Her pals gasped in dismay as they saw her hanging in midair, her body contorting and twisting like it was on exhibit.

The speaker spoke once more, seeming slightly gleeful. "Everyone of you has failed. Rest assured, though—your efforts have not gone unappreciated. You'll be here in this room forever, like the others in my collection, your bodies just toys for me to play with."

The marionettes dropped from the ceiling, their threads encircling the pals and drawing them upward as the final words reverberated across the space. There was just darkness as the walls closed in and the mirrors broke.

Then there was quiet.

With a creak, the steel door opened, revealing the receptionist inside with a neutral expression. With the exception of the fresh marionettes that hung from the ceiling, their wooden faces carved with expressions of frozen horror, the room was empty as he looked around.

He said to himself, "Another successful show," and turned to go out, the door clanging shut behind him.

The fresh puppets swayed gently in the darkness, as if someone else had tugged their strings, waiting for the next unsuspecting group of players to arrive.