The former winner hobbled over, her face pale and eyes wide with terror. “Listen,” she whispered, clutching your arm with trembling fingers, “they… they aren’t what they seem. The daughters, the park… it’s not for fun. You’ll… you’ll be trapped if you let them lure you in.” Her voice trembled with every word, and you could see the scars of previous “winners” etched on her arms, faint but terrifying.

You and two friends, curious and somewhat reckless, nodded politely, but the bright lights of the Sweet Red region drew your attention. Gigantic strawberries, cherries, and crimson apples sparkled like jewels under the enchanted sun, and a sweet, intoxicating scent filled the air. Your companions whispered about taking photos, touching the fruit, testing the candy-coated fountains. For a moment, the warnings seemed like paranoid ramblings.

Then you saw it—a massive, twisting tube, almost hidden behind a wall of glowing raspberries. Its entrance shimmered with a strange light, bending reality, and a soft wind seemed to pull you forward. “This way,” one friend said, grinning, already stepping inside. You hesitated, glancing back at the former winner, who shook her head violently, lips forming a silent plea. But curiosity got the better of caution.

The tube’s surface was slick and smooth, almost alive, and as you stepped inside, your feet slid forward. Gravity seemed uncertain; the walls curved impossibly, stretching into the distance. You held onto each other, sliding past twisting turns, the light distorting the colors around you. The former winner’s warnings echoed faintly in your memory, blending with the surreal sounds of distant laughter, soft clinking of enormous fruits, and the subtle hum of machinery hidden somewhere deep in the park.

Deeper and deeper you slid. Your heart pounded as the tube seemed to elongate forever. Shadows danced along the walls, forming shapes that looked like the cherry daughters watching from above. The air smelled sweeter, heavier, almost intoxicating, and you realized each breath made your head spin. One friend clutched her stomach, another pressed her hands to her face, and you tried to keep your balance.

Somewhere in the distance, a faint creaking echoed, like a massive door opening somewhere far above. It was then you noticed the tube wasn’t empty—shapes moved just out of focus. Silhouettes of enormous fruits, too massive to be natural, pressed against the sides, as if testing the tube’s elasticity. A ripple ran through the walls like they were breathing, expanding and contracting in rhythm with your own panic.

The former winner’s words returned, clearer this time: “They use the tubes… to choose who becomes part of the park… don’t fall asleep… don’t… resist…” But the tube’s pull was relentless. You tumbled together, sliding further into the unknown, each twist amplifying the feeling that escape might be impossible. Every laugh, every shimmer of red, and every distant metallic click reminded you that the cherry daughters had planned this, their innocence a lie, their cruelty waiting at the end.

You screamed for your friends, your voice swallowed by the tube, the light bending around you like the park itself was alive. And then, just as panic threatened to overwhelm you, the twisting tube stretched further, revealing an opening ahead—a glowing portal into something even more vast, more surreal, and more terrifying.

You had no idea what awaited, only that this was no ordinary attraction. The park had begun to claim you.