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shriketimes · 2 years

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monday november 1st, 1988

In the early hours of the morning, an unauthorised Halloween celebration held in the forest ended in tragedy and bloodshed. Many residents going against the safety precautions advised by town officials were injured in a brutal attack, in which multiple people lost their lives. Many known killers were reportedly involved in the attack, including the Jack-O-Lantern and the Hunter, both having escaped police custody in transit to Southfort Correctional Facility. Shrike Heights Police Department are working tirelessly to recapture the perpetrators. Town officials would like to remind residents that proof of their vigilance can be seen in the success of the Halloween Spooktacular, and that such protection can not be guaranteed when attending events not organised by the town itself. It is advised that residents stay out of the forest area between the outskirts and the farmlands until the police department can conclude their thorough investigation of the area.

thursday october 27th, 1988

Harlow Jackson and Lochlan Miller leave the Southfort Police Department with the intention of reaching Shrike Heights at sundown. The two men often work together, being the (self-proclaimed) best partnership in the SPD. While the mood is usually light and playful when travelling together, the two of them are tense and quiet as they make the two and a half hour trip from their quaint little town, to one with a more notorious reputation. Both of them are anxious of what awaits them in the small town, knowing that very soon they’ll be in the same vehicle with two of the most dangerous killers in the whole of Colorado.

Shrike is decorated for the occasion. The town is covered in fall leaves, and everywhere you look there are glowing jack-o-lanterns, plastic skeletons and fake furry spiders attached to stretchy fake cobwebs. Harlow and Lochlan are impressed with the beauty of the town. Halloween was just as big in Southfort, but the business districts barely took the chance to decorate for the celebration. The town is quiet, most of the residents having attended the Fall Fest, as they do every year. Both the Southfort and Shrike Heights police departments believe that this is the perfect time to move the criminals.

They pull up behind the station. Harlow doesn’t notice that he’s gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than normal - knuckles turning slightly white as he hesitates to exit the car. He knows he mustn’t let his fear show, however. Especially not in the presence of the killers. “I’ll let them know we’re here. In the meantime you should stretch your legs, it’s not good to sit still for so long,” Lochlan says, sliding out of the car and moving into the building. Harlow unbuckles himself and steps out into the crisp fall air, taking a deep breath to calm himself. In the distance he can see the tip of Mayor Sweeney’s house, the chimney blowing smoke into the darkening sky.

“Alright, they’re preparing them now,” Lochlan says as he exits through the back door, “What’re you looking at?”

“Nothing. Just - Mayor Sweeney’s house. It makes me sick to think he’s all cozied up inside there, keeping himself nice and safe while his town is in danger. I don’t think he actually cares about anything other than his own reputation,” Harlow answers, turning to lean his back against their cop car.

“Probably. Power gets to people. And have you seen the man? He looks comically villainous. He’s definitely no good. Maybe next election he’ll be voted out. I heard that Mann fellow was thinking of running next time. Not that it’ll make a difference to us.”

Their talk of politics is cut short when four Shrike officers leave the building, guiding the infamous killers out in single file. They’re a little bewildered as they lay eyes on them for the first time. Neither of them admit it to one another, but goosebumps form and the hair on their arms stands up as the two criminals get closer and closer. Even with the straitjackets that they’ve been confined to, neither of the men trust them to be so close. “They’ve remained silent. But on the off chance that they try to get you to ease up on them - don’t. These men are dangerous, and under no circumstances are you to stop until they’re within the doors of the Southfort Correctional Facility, do you understand?”

“We know how to do our job,” Lochlan remarks a little snarkily. He doesn’t appreciate being treated as though he’s completely incompetent “Leave ‘em to us. I guarantee Shrike won’t have to worry about these two assholes anymore.” He taps the hood of the van as the criminals are loaded into the back and the doors are secured. The Shrike officers bid the men farewell and reenter the station, leaving Lochlan and Harlow to themselves.

“Alright, we’d better get going. We don’t want anyone to see them and make a scene,” Harlow tells his partner as he climbs back into the driver's seat. Lochlan agrees - and within minutes they’re back on the road.

On the return trip, the highway is so dark and empty that it feels uncanny. Perhaps otherworldly would have been a better way for the two officers to describe it. The purpose of their journey makes the road what some would consider a liminal space - not just a literal space of transition between two places, but a metaphorical space of transition for both Shrike and Southfort. Things for Shrike are ‘supposed to be different with the removal of the killers’ - that’s what the local law enforcement say. Jack and the hunter are the supposed ringleaders. It seems that where they go, their lackeys follow. The operation is kept secret so as not to spark panic to the residents of Southfort, but there is no evidence to suggest that the other killers of Shrike won’t follow them to the new location. Both towns sit in a state of uncertainty. Harlow and Lochlan mightn’t be smart enough to understand liminality, but they feel it deep in their bones.

“Apparently they couldn’t get any information out of them,” Harlow says, eyes still on the road. “Isn’t that weird? With the kinds of people we’ve had run-ins with… you know how everybody has a breaking point. But not these guys.” That’s another of the many reasons that the Shrike killers terrify him so much. A killer who wouldn’t crack was a true monster. “I wonder how long they’ll last in Southfort correctional. Reckon they’ll keep them in solitary?”

“Maybe. Especially if they put up a fight regarding those masks. Shrike officers might have been too lenient with them, but the staff at correctional won’t be,” Lochlan replies, turning his head to peer through the grate at the killers, still sitting eerily still in the back of the van. Of course. There’s no chance for them to move, their hands and feet cuffed, strapped tightly into straitjackets. He wasn’t sure why he expected to see them move. “I heard they superglued the masks to their skin so the masks couldn’t be removed without a bloody mess. Diane told me.”

Harlow shakes his head, “No. Diane doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Someone heard from Charles that they went one step further, sewing the masks into their skin. No-one knows whether it’s them wanting to conceal their identity, or whether they’re just so sick that they think they’re one with those masks… either way, medical professionals couldn’t do much without posing a serious risk,” and he knows that the Shrike department is already in such deep water that they won’t take any chances.

“Well whatever the case is… the masks will be gone once they step into their shiny new home. Then we’ll finally get to see the faces of the beasts,” Lochlan has been dreaming of the day the faces of the killers are plastered over the news, finally having been brought justice for their horrific crimes. Now it seemed like that day was getting closer and closer. With the capture of jack and the hunter, it’s only a matter of time before the rest go down too, he thinks. They fall back into silence, though the two of them can’t seem to get their minds off the task at hand. Harlow might have called it intuition, and Lochlan would have called him an idiot.

As they continue to drive, the sides of the road slowly begin to be shrouded with mist, almost becoming a barrier as the headlights hit it. Neither can see much past the fences that separate the farmland from the trees and grass on the verge of the road. It doesn’t bother Harlow at first - he can still see the road ahead clearly, and that’s all that matters. He knows the way like the back of his hand, even if it had spilled onto the road, he’d still be able to navigate. But when he thinks he sees someone dressed as a sheet ghost on the side of the road, he jumps and curses, nearly swerving onto the opposite side of the road.

“What was that about? Are you alright?” Lochlan asks, a concerned expression on his face. He might make fun of Harlow at the best of times, but he’s still worried about his work-mate.

“Ah… I’m sorry. I thought I saw someone dressed as a ghost. It isn’t even Halloween yet! I think the lack of sleep is finally getting to me,” he says softly, looking in the rearview mirror only to see nothing on the roadside behind them. “My cousin has been missing for weeks now. The last place she was reported to be seen was a bar in Shrike Heights. Since then my family and I have been losing sleep, waiting for any news. That’s what fucking sucks about being in this line of work. You know that when someone is missing for this long, it’s very unlikely there’ll be a happy ending.”

“I’m sorry, man. Still… I hope things work out for her. I really do.”

The silence between them then is heavy. Perhaps if Lochlan had known about Harlow’s cousin, he would have elected someone else to do the job. He hopes that making such a trip isn’t going to do his co-worker more harm than good. But at the same time, he wonders if Harlow finds it therapeutic. A missing person in Shrike Heights is no coincidence. It’s very likely Harlow is putting away the very two people responsible for her disappearance.

Lochlan’s train of thought changes the second he sees a scarecrow on the side of the road. Odd place for a scarecrow, he thinks to himself. But when he thinks he sees the scarecrow move, his reaction almost matches Harlow’s, only he hits his elbow on the side of the van door. “Fucking hell, man - you’ve got me all paranoid now, I’m tripping out,” he laughs, but there’s a shake in his voice that gives away his nerves.

“What did you see?”

“I thought I saw a scarecrow. I swear I saw it moving towards the road. Like a scarecrow can walk.”

Harlow laughs, but Lochlan sees through his faux confidence easily. “I don’t know man. Things are getting a little weird. But we’re a little under half way there. We could even pull over at the next gas station to clear our heads a little.”

The next sighting is one that they both share. When both of them lean slightly forward, squinting their eyes to see better, they both know that they’re not seeing things. A person in a skeleton costume stands on the side of the road, a little closer to the asphalt than the ghost or the scarecrow had been. “Is there a Halloween party in town or something? Maybe people are celebrating early because of the holiday being on a Monday.”

“Maybe. Do you think they’re trying to hitchhike into town?”

“Yeah - that would explain it. See? Everything has a perfectly rational explanation,” Harlow smiles. Despite his rationalising, his hands are yet again gripping the wheel too tight, this time his knuckles turning completely white.

THWIP.

They are very suddenly blinded by a large piece of white fabric - something that appears to be a sheet. Harlow swerves in fear. Lochlan winds down the window as quickly as he can, reaching his arm out to grab a corner of the fabric. He tugs on it, but the wind is making it difficult to move. “Quick!” Harlow hurries him, panic rising as he tries to keep himself centred on the road.

Lochlan unbuckles his seatbelt and winds the window down further so that he can half lean out of the window, using both hands to pull the sheet away from the window. Once he’s inside he gives the sheet a final tug, pulling the fabric inside with one swift motion.

Being able to see the road now is no use. In the middle of the road is what appears to be a large bronze statue of a miner. Lochlan doesn’t understand how it’s possible - surely he would have seen such a large obstruction while he was looking out of the window. He doesn’t have time to question it before the car collides with it, the statue completely smashing the window. The two officers scream, and in his panic, Harlow swerves.

The vehicle uncontrollably dips into a ditch and ends up wrapped around a tree. The thundering sound of the crash echoes throughout the empty night - but no-one is around to hear.

The officers never reach the Southfort Correctional Facility. Two hours after they’re supposed to arrive, both SPD and SHPD send out a car each to patrol the area in hopes of finding the men, but unexpected weather conditions make it difficult. A drizzle of rain and thick fog covers the road, completely hiding the wreckage from view of anyone on the main road, meaning the crash goes practically unnoticed until midday.

“We have the bodies of Harlow Jackson and Lochlan Keller here on the scene. They died not too long after impact, if not instantly,” Diane Golka speaks into her tape recorder, “No signs of struggle from the perpetrators, but they’re nowhere to be seen.”

“What are we going to do?” one of her younger co-workers asks.

“I have a strong feeling that Sweeney isn’t going to want anyone to know about this.”

monday october 31st, 1988

The escape of the killers has been kept a secret from the general public while officials investigate, all in order to keep the public as calm as possible. With the recent behaviour of the killers, many Shrike residents were almost expecting the killers to come back worse than ever, angered by their capture. The last thing Shrike officials wanted was for that to be the case, and to be held personally responsible for it. Due to the emergency at hand, the annual Halloween Spooktacular has extra precautions put in place - an earlier start and finish time, and extra security in the form of police officers patrolling the borders of the commune in order to be certain no trespassers make their way onto the property. They’re determined to protect the citizens, even if it’s to save their own hides.

An announcer stands on a small stage made of wooden pallets, surrounded by hay and festive pumpkins with silly faces carved into them, resembling anything other than the terrifying pumpkin-headed killer that had plagued Shrike for over a year. The announcer has three cards in their hand - each one bearing a name. Behind them are the costume contest entrants, standing in a line, anxiously awaiting the results.

“Okay okay, quiet now - I know you’re all excited to know who the winners are,” she says, holding up the folded cards to the crowd, “I’m very pleased to announce, that the third place winner is… Topher Hancock as Robin Hood, and his matching Maid Marian, Dolly Jensen! Now, rules do state that the prizes are to be shared if there are two winners, so we’ll leave that up to you.” The crowd cheers as Dolly and Topher approach the front of the stage. Topher bows before giving Dolly a little spin to show off her costume - he’s prouder than he could ever say, and doesn’t think he’d have won if it weren’t for Dolly being with him. The crowd claps as they collect the small jack-o-lantern bucket waiting for them. The announcer continues the presentation, “Topher and Dolly have won a small bucket of candy along with a $10 gift voucher for Shrike Mall! Redeemable at any store, including the food court! How very exciting!”

“In second place… we have Chokehold on Love’s very own Finn Dunne!” the crowd seem to cheer even louder for Finn than they had for Topher and Dolly - likely due to the fact that most of the crowd had seen his band play earlier, and a good handful were going to be seeing a secret uncensored set at the Spooktacular Afterparty on the Ramos property. Chokehold on Love are practically Shrike’s equivalent of celebrity. He dons a mummy costume. Despite putting in moderate effort, he knows that it’s likely the judges put in a few extra points just because of his performance earlier in the day. He steps forward to collect his prize. “The second place winner wins a bigger bucket of candy and a $20 voucher!” Finn takes the jack-o-lantern bucket and stands next to Dolly and Topher.

“Last, but not least… in first place…” The announcer opens the last of the folded cards excruciatingly slowly. “Ozzy and Ottilie Morrison as the Grady twins from The Shining! Together these terrifying twins get the biggest bucket of candy along with a $40 voucher! Haven’t the costumes this year just been absolutely fantastic? Take a final bow, winners!” Ozzy steps forward with a big smile on her face - the twins' hard work has paid off. Ottilie takes the bucket of candy, which feels much weightier than it looks.

Some of the mall employees in the crowd can see right through the gift card prizes - knowing that it’s just an incentive to try to get more people to shop at the mall, knowing that attendance might be lower than usual because of the attacks. Thankfully the gift cards all went to people who would already be at the mall anyway. “Now everyone enjoy the rest of their night! Remember that the Spooktacular ends at sundown!” Everyone leaves the stage to continue the celebration.

The residents of Shrike enjoy the rest of the event, going through the corn maze one last time before they’d have the twelve month long wait to do it again, relishing the last of the spiced pumpkin treats for sale at the stall. Many had slightly heavy hearts that the night was coming to a close - finding the Halloween celebration a good distraction from the tragedy of real life. As the sun sets, the residents of Shrike leave the commune and say goodbye to the Spooktacular. Those brave enough to trick-or-treat wander door to door to get their fill of candy. Everyone else knows that Halloween might as well be over. No-one at the event is harmed. The officials and the police hired for security are rather pleased with themselves, thinking that they’ve definitely made a step in the right direction regarding protecting their town. They praise themselves for it.

In the golden light of the sunset, Julio hands out one last bottle of beer before he’s officially closed. As usual, his popup cocktail bar is a complete success. Adults love nothing more than a fancy cocktail to keep their spirits high as their children run amok, which means Julio makes a pretty decent profit annually from the event. He packs up shop, but before he leaves, he figures he might as well stop by the Spooktacular afterparty on the way to the Ramos cabin to return a lost item.

He slides the last bottles of hard liquor into his messenger bag, securing it tight so that they don’t slide around and smash into each other. Slinging it over his shoulder, he picks up one of the lit lanterns by his stall and makes his way to the forest, where Greg Ramos is hosting his party.

The Spooktacular afterparty starts off strong. Greg Ramos knows that it’s going to be a huge success. The Halloween Spooktacular ending early was a great disappointment for many of the Shrike residents who enjoyed staying out late for a few extra scares. So Greg knows that throwing one of his classic bonfire parties with a spooky twist will more than make up for it, having the locals eat and drink by the fire. He hopes to sit and take turns telling scary stories - some of which will be more funny than scary, and others definitely exaggerated to seem more terrifying. But he doesn’t mind, so long as he’s spending time with the people he cares about.

Greg is considered to be one of the biggest fans of Chokehold on Love. Standing next to Finn, it’s very obvious that the younger man's costume is of the band's frontman himself. Greg’s hair is sprayed blue, and he dons a home-made band shirt to show his support for what he considers Shrike royalty. The band find it incredibly endearing, especially Finn. Greg had asked so politely for them to perform at the afterparty that the band simply couldn’t refuse. After all, their set at the Spooktacular was tamer because of the sheer amount of children at the event. The four of them found they could really let loose at a show that was for those above the age of twenty-one.

“I don’t know how Hedwig can play so well with a broken arm!” Greg is not a musician himself, so nearly anything that the band members do is incredibly impressive through his eyes.

“I actually tried to convince him not to,” Zero Heathcliff says, “But a guy knows his own limits, who am I to try take away his free will?”

“To be fair… the doctor did tell him not to, but he wouldn’t listen,” Finn tells him. He remembers being concerned the first time Hedwig had come to practice, ready to play with all their heart despite the cast on their arm. “At least there’s little chance of any serious, lasting damage. Or, so they said to us, anyway.”

“Thank you guys for coming out here, it means a lot to me,” Greg holds something in his hands, a little package tied up with a ribbon especially to give to Finn. He motions to the Chokehold on Love shirt that he wears. “Ernie helped me make this shirt. And we made one for Donnie too! Here,” he holds out the package, “If you could give it to him, I’d really appreciate it.”

“That’s so kind of you, thank you. I assure you he will love this,” Finn gives the younger man an appreciative, one-armed hug, squeezing his shoulders, “Speaking of which, I should head back. Donnie will get worried if I stay out any later.”

“Boring,” Zero teases, “Xena already forced Hedwig to go home - and now you’re gonna leave me too. I guess I’ll find something to drink and mingle with the commoners.”

Mimi Bonsignore stands by the bonfire with Posey Bryant and Dhruv Acharya, the three of them with different drinks in hand as they talk about their costumes. Mimi playfully calls Dhruv Prince throughout their conversation, as their coworker is dressed as none other than the musician, Prince. Posey is dressed as a puppet - a costume that Mimi considers a little eerie. But Posey can’t seem to figure out what Mimi is dressed as.

“So… what are you supposed to be? The color yellow?” Posey asks, not meaning to offend.

Mimi wears a yellow dress, red shoes and grey gloves. She stands up straight and holds her hands together above her head in a triangle. Posey stares, and they seem even more confused now than before they asked the question. Mimi rolls their eyes playfully. “I’m a pencil! Duh!”

Dhruv bursts into laughter, “It’s okay I knew what you were all along,” he lies.

Julio arrives to the party a little late. Despite having lived in Shrike for so long, he still doesn’t know the woods half as well as Greg does. He can make his way to the Ramos cabin just fine, but the bonfire spot is new, so it takes him a while. Greg runs up to him to greet him, throwing his arms around the man, “You came! Are you gonna stick around?”

Julio pats him on the back. He pulls away and reaches into his bag, retrieving the bottles of hard liquor. “No, I have to go home, José is expecting me. We’re having a little Halloween date night. I just wanted to give these to you. Don’t keep it all to yourself - make sure you share, mijo.”

Greg has learned a lot from Julio over the years. He’d known him since he was a child - and if anyone from out of town saw them together, they’d absolutely assume that the two were father and son. Greg’s father was always a frequent visitor of Julio’s bar, which is how Julio became familiar with the young man. Julio is well aware that Greg’s father is not known for his kindness - and for that reason, he has taken him under his wing.

“You know I love sharing almost as much as you do,” he says. “Thanks tío Julio.”

“And you know I always got you. Your father left a pair of sunglasses at the bar last night, so I’m going to leave them by the cabin before he starts accusing someone innocent of having stolen them.”

“You know where the key is!”

“Adiós - and behave yourself!”

Julio goes on his way, lantern still in hand to guide the way. Greg watches Julio leave with a smile on his face, hoping that Julio doesn’t get lost considering he doesn’t know them nearly as well as the kids of Shrike. He hopes that Julio makes it back in time for the Halloween date night with his husband. The two of them had become the most positive influences in Greg’s life, and he loves them dearly.

“Drinks, everyone!” Greg calls. He starts to pour generously into his friends cups.

Mimi was well aware that she’s due for a shift at Shrike Heights Radio the following day, but naturally, she can’t resist the proposition of a Halloween bash in the woods, taking the opportunity to socialise with her friends. Like many in Shrike, Mimi needed something to lift their spirits, to help them feel normal again. This was the kind of thing that the younger Shrike residents used to do without any fear. She misses it, and no doubt the others do too.

It’s just before midnight, the moon hanging high in the clear night sky. She wishes she could stay longer to hear more scary stories and toast some more marshmallows on the fire, but she acts responsibly. “Okay, I’m beat. I gotta head home now. If I get to sleep soon, I may be able to sleep off the hangover before work,” they tell the crowd that they’d been chattering away to.

“Hey, let me walk you to the outskirts. You’ve had quite a bit to drink, I don’t want you getting lost in the woods like this,” Micah Miller insists, standing up from his place on a fallen log that is temporarily being used to seat the party guests.

“I suppose I hadn’t thought about that - I would really appreciate it, if you have the time. Just in case. I do want to make sure I get my beauty sleep,” they accept, thankful for the offer. Mimi knows the woods just as well as any other outdoorsy Shrike Heights kid, but in the dark, inebriated, they worry they might get turned around somehow.

Micah leads Mimi away from the party, into the woods. They seem to really know their way around, Mimi thinks to herself, following them without question. She realises now just how dark the forest is in the denser areas where minimal moonlight can break through the canopy of leaves above. They’re thankful that they have Micah to guide them, or else they’d definitely have gotten lost, which would have impeded their ability to sleep off their hangover before work.

“Do you want to know something interesting?” Micah asks them.

“Sure.”

“If you’re ever out here in the woods at night and you can’t find your way back to the outskirts, you just need to find a clear spot through the trees and find the brightest star in the sky. If you’re careful and you follow that star all the way, you’ll find your way home,” they tell her.

“Is that how you’re going to find your way back to the party? By going the opposite way?”

“Well if I found myself in a pinch, yeah. But I’ve lived here a very long time, so I don’t usually need the stars to find my way.”

As they weave their way through the trees, Mimi spots a figure just slightly illuminated by the moonlight ahead. It gives them an awful fright, causing them to jump and to grab onto Micah. Their sudden movement gives him a fright twice as bad, a small noise of concern escaping him as he takes a step back. Mimi squints, as though doing so would improve her vision. It only takes her a moment to recognise the figure as a scarecrow. “Oh god, I thought there was a person, but it’s just a scarecrow! How stupid of me. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. Let’s keep going.”

Mimi’s reassurance does nothing for Micah. Upon hearing her words, a chill runs down his spine. When his dear friend Jupiter was attacked earlier in the year, he’d said that the perpetrator was dressed as a scarecrow. Though it is currently Halloween, and a scarecrow costume isn’t unlikely, it is too eerie to be a coincidence. He steps in front of Mimi in order to see into the clearing. But there’s nothing there. “Are you sure that’s what you saw? A scarecrow? It wasn’t just a trick of the light?”

Mimi hums. She’s intoxicated enough that she starts to doubt herself. “I’m not sure I mean… I guess it could have been anything. Or anyone. In a costume of sorts.” But she can still sense the tension in the air, and in order to calm Micah down, she tries to dismiss her anxieties. “You know what? It probably wasn’t even anything at all. It was probably a tree. I’m not really thinking too-”

While Mimi is mid-sentence, Micah is hit in the head.

Micah stumbles backwards and knocks into an already unsteady Mimi. Mimi loses her balance completely and feels the rough terrain graze her hands as she hits the ground. She shuffles blindly out of the way so as not to be trampled by Micah. Micah’s head is ringing, and he’s nearly rendered blind as his vision blurs with tears, making it near impossible to see in the darkness. They hold their hand to their head and wince as they feel a hematoma forming below the skin, the tender skin throbbing with pain.

Mimi uses a nearby tree to help herself to her feet, feeling a little woozy from intoxication. In the pale moonlight, she can see the Scarecrow lift their pitchfork, ready to strike Micah right through the chest. Mimi knows that if the scarecrow is successful, Micah will be stabbed right through the heart and will have no chance of survival. Despite her fear, she knows she can’t do nothing. So she stumbles forward, pushing Micah out of the way as the scarecrow thrusts the weapon forward. Micah is saved, but Mimi is not so lucky.

The pitchfork catches her hand, the force of it piercing the flesh between her forefinger and her thumb, hitting the tree beside her with a heavy thud. Mimi finds herself pinned to the tree by her hand. The scarecrow seems to contemplate whether they want to go for Micah or Mimi, but they decide on the latter, approaching her slowly. Micah’s vision is still so poor that he doesn’t even realise that Mimi has been hit. She struggles internally with what to do. She can either stay put and let the scarecrow end her life in the torturous manner they reportedly do so, or she can tear her hand away and make a run for it. The scarecrow is almost within arms reach when she decides. She clenches her teeth and pulls her hand free, the flesh of her hand tearing, hot blood dripping from the wound and all over her arm.

“Leave her alone, you bastard!” Micah shouts. His vision is slowly returning to him, and he’s a little more stable on his feet. He bends down and picks up a rock that is a little bigger than the size of his palm, and he tosses it at the scarecrow. It hits the killer in the back, the sound replicating that of a stone being thrown at a bale of hay, almost as if there was no substance to the thing. The scarecrow pulls the pitchfork from the tree with some difficulty, and with a sudden, swift movement, throws the weapon at Micah. The prongs pierce through the flesh of their thigh with great force. They scream, falling backwards onto the ground, the back of their head taking quite a beating from the rocks and twigs below. With quick-paced steps, the scarecrow pulls the pitchfork from his leg, blood immediately spurting from the wound. Micah doesn’t need to be a genius to know that that is a bad sign. He lifts the weapon above his head, ready to strike the fallen victim's chest.

Mimi cries, teeth still clenched and muscles tensed due to the severe pain. She’s in too much shock to understand how to make the bleeding stop, so she simply stands and watches as the blood drips over the dead leaves and twigs on the ground. Micah’s scream of pain snaps her out of it. She sees him in trouble again, blood pooling around his leg as the scarecrow prepares to end his life. She does the only thing she can. With her uninjured hand, she reaches for the scarecrow's old plaid shirt and she pulls it with all of her strength, giving Micah just enough time to roll and clamber to their feet. Their leg is hot and wet with blood, and the sight makes them feel woozy.

The scarecrow spins quickly, smacking the smaller of the two square in the forehead. Micah swears that the sound of the crack echoed. Mimi feels blood rushing down her nose and over her mouth, and as she tries to catch her breath from the anxiety running through her, she feels it trickle over her lips and tastes it on her tongue. Though the scarecrow attempts to stab Mimi, she moves out of the way just in time, her yellow dress getting caught on the prong as the pitchfork jams into another tree. She wastes no time running, letting the dress tear in the process. Her life is much more important than a silly Halloween costume. No one understood what she was, anyway.

Micah, having caught his breath, runs as best as he can on his injury, completely in the opposite direction. He’s confused and disoriented now, and doesn’t know exactly where he’s going, but anywhere is better than with the scarecrow. Seeing that Mimi has taken the opportunity to run also, he feels less guilty about leaving her behind. There’s a kind of unspoken understanding between them. The two of them are so scared and hurt that they don’t even have the chance to think about grouping up again - their instinct to escape and survive is too strong. Each of them hopes that the other makes it out alive.

Mimi finds herself completely lost in the woods. Her head throbs with pain and her vision is especially poor, blurry with a mixture of tears and practically seeing double due to her head injury. She holds her hand to her forehead, and similarly to Micah, the impact was so forceful that a hematoma begins to form. There’s no chance of her figuring out which star in the sky is brightest, rendering Micah’s advice useless for now. So she runs and runs until she’s completely out of breath.

She sees a blaze of light in the distance.

Micah runs as fast as they can, which admittedly, isn’t the fastest considering their leg injury. The pain in the muscle is intense. They stumble across the debris on the forest floor, skidding across the ground and scraping their hands as they instinctively try to protect themself from the fall. He lays on the ground for a moment, the only sounds being his heavy breathing and the soft breeze through the trees. He needs a rest, just for a minute to let his heartbeat slow down again.

The sound of a snapped twig in the distance wakes him up. I can’t rest. I’m losing blood, I can’t stop now, he thinks to himself, slowly heaving himself back to his feet, brushing his bloody palms against his legs. He remembers now that he mustn’t be getting enough oxygen to his brain. He knows he needs help sooner rather than later.

He moves slower now, trying to conserve as much energy as possible. With his vision a little clearer, he knows very roughly that he’s moving in the direction back towards the bonfire party. Micah feels like he’s practically dragging his leg behind him as he moves, the pain too intense to put too much strain on his leg. Micah looks up at the sky. Their brain is much too foggy for them to figure out how long it’s going to take to reach the bonfire again.

Greg and Aera Davies are completely unaware of the scene they’re about to walk into. When they see Micah, they don’t even recognise that they’ve been hurt, it’s so dark. “Hey! What’re you doing? We thought you went home, the party is practically over,” Aera says to them as they approach.

“Yeah, almost everyone has to work tomorrow so midnight has been the cut off for a lot of them,” Greg chimes in. He was well aware in the planning process that that would be the case - Halloween falling on a Monday is a crime. As they get closer to Micah, Greg notices the glistening darkness around their thigh. “Micah-”

“Mimi… I lost her. The scarecrow got us,” he says a little breathlessly, thankful to be standing still again. He feels like he could curl up on the ground and drift off to sleep, but he knows that’s not an option. “I’m bleeding… so much.”

Aera swallows hard as she examines the deep wounds, trying her hardest not to be sick. She can’t imagine the pain of something being stabbed so deep through muscle and flesh. “We need to get you some help. And Mimi too, if we can find her,” she says. It’s clear by the way Micah practically slurs their words that they’ve lost a lot of blood, and it strikes Aera with anxiety. Has the scarecrow followed him? That’s a thought Aera doesn’t wish to entertain.

“My place isn’t too far from here. I have a first aid kit at the cabin. I can wrap your leg up there and then I’ll take you to the hospital, alright? Do you think you can hold on that long?” Greg asks him. Micah takes a second to respond, nodding his head slowly. “Okay good. Follow me.” Aera wraps an arm around Micah, supporting him as best she can as they walk slowly through the forest. Greg takes his time, only so Micah can comfortably keep up with him. Micah appreciates this, and finds it much easier to continue now that they know they’re not alone. With Aera supporting and guiding him, he doesn’t need to worry about where he’s going, he only needs to focus on moving his feet and staying upright.

They head down a natural dirt path that had been formed by animals frequenting the area - that much was obvious by the way it twisted and turned with uneven ground, some areas wider than others. Aera helps Micah over a fallen tree, holding him securely so that he doesn’t fall. They continue along their path until Greg stops. “I… thought I saw something.”

Greg was not merely imagining things. From behind a tree steps a person dressed as a sheet ghost. Only, their stark white sheet is covered in dark blood. Greg and Aera are both immediately concerned for them. Was it another of the scarecrows victims? Or was there another killer lying in wait somewhere in the woods. Aera slides her arm out from underneath Micah and rushes forward to greet them. “Hey! Are you okay?”

Micah’s concussion makes it difficult to think. He doesn’t get the chance to warn her in time.

As Aera reaches to place her hands on the persons shoulders, she’s taken by surprise by the knife that suddenly slashes her over her torso, cutting deep into her flesh all over. She puts her arms up in front of her instinctively in order to protect herself, but the Ghost is not merciful. Her arms are sliced up too, the knife even scraping against the radius bone of her left arm. She takes a step back, but not far enough. The ghost stabs her deep in the abdomen, the wound squelching as the killer twists the knife. Hot blood is soaking into the mouse costume, dripping down her body. Tears stream down her face, but she can’t bring herself to make a sound.

Greg is the kind of person who considers anyone a friend - and there is nothing he hates more than seeing a friend get hurt, especially in such a horrific way. He quickly realises he has to do something before Aera is harmed any further. If he doesn’t, there’s a good chance she won’t make it. He scans the forest floor to find the biggest stick he can physically carry. He grips it tight and swings at the ghost, hitting the sheet without much resistance. It doesn’t seem to do anything to harm the killer, but the ghost pulls the knife from Aera’s abdomen and turns to face him. Blood spills even quicker down the front of Aera’s body, and she holds an injured hand over the wound in an attempt to stop the flow. Greg knows now that he’s the new target.

Despite Greg’s small stature, he had been quite good at running. He was no track star, sure, but he knows that he’s the only one who has a real chance at escaping the ghost, his other two companions losing blood fast. Despite the shakiness of his voice giving away his fear, he tries to be brave. “So scared that you won’t even show your face? Come and get me, coward.” The ghost lunges their bloody knife and Greg takes off, prompting the sheet ghost to follow.

Micah rushes as fast as they possibly can to Aera’s side. She had been the one to reassure him before - now it was his turn. Despite feeling extremely weak, tears streaming down his face, he holds her for a moment as if to try comfort her. “It’s okay. We made it through. We just need to find help… and then everything will be just fine,” he says, a little breathlessly. His head still feels woozy, having lost too much blood already.

Aera and Micah try their best to support each other as they make their way back towards the bonfire. Though neither of them can run in their current state, their hurried walking feels as though they’re running a marathon. Micah is sure they’re on the right path, but before they get too far, they see something slumped against a tree.

It’s another sheet ghost, also covered in blood.

It sends a shiver simultaneously down both of their spines. They’re anxious, terrified, there is no possible way for them to fight back against yet another killer. Micah, however, is the first to spot something different about this ghost. A bloodied hand can be seen sticking out from beneath the sheet. “I don’t think it’s the killer. Look… at the hand. Did the ghost let you see any part of their body?” Micah asks her.

“No… no, they were holding the knife through the sheet, I didn’t see their hands,” she says. Micah takes a slow step forward, watching carefully in case the figure moves. Aera reaches for him, gripping his arm weakly. “Don’t.”

“It’s okay. I think I know what’s happened,” he reassures her, shrugging her off and continuing to move towards the unknown person. Slowly, they reach for the sheet, gripping it in their hand and slowly pulling it off what they realise now is a body. Underneath, is one of the partygoers. Their body is covered in deep slashes and stabs, blood pooling all around them. The smell of the iron makes him feel sick.

Aera stammers, “Should we… should we try to carry them? We can’t just leave them here.”

“No, we’re in no position to carry them. There’s nothing we can do now to get help. Someone will find them again, I promise.”

Greg knows the layout of the forest like the layout of his own home. The ghost chases him as he darts through the trees, taking the rockiest and most complicated paths he knows in order to trip the killer up. He moves quickly, but not so quick that he loses the perpetrator. He has no issue navigating, no matter the terrain. Greg knows the way back to his cabin, but he only prays that Julio isn’t there. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he were to accidentally put his tío in any kind of danger.

When he reaches the cabin he fumbles with the keys, his hands shaking so badly from the fear that he nearly misses the keyhole. The panic is truly setting in now that the adrenaline is wearing off. He feels like his hands are numb, like he can’t control them properly. He tries two incorrect keys before getting the right one, and he rushes inside, slamming the door shut behind him. He locks it securely, taking a moment to catch his breath.

For once in his life, he wishes his dad was home. Why did he have to go on that stupid hunting trip, tonight of all nights? Anything would be better than being stuck in this cabin, scared and alone, with a terrifying predator outside of the door. This must be how those poor animals feel when dad hones in on them. Small, and helpless, he thinks to himself.

On the way to his bedroom, he rushes to make sure every single window in the house is locked, not wanting to give the ghost a chance to enter. Despite feeling safer inside his home, he’s still shaking with anxiety. Who knows how long the ghost was willing to wait for their prey? Greg would have to leave at some point, after all. “I’m not scared,” he tries to tell himself, as if saying it out loud will make it true.

Greg has never been good with guns. They’re too loud, and he doesn’t particularly agree with his fathers stance on them. He could never bring himself to pull the trigger when his father had tried to teach him to hunt. But the shotgun that he’s had since he was twelve lies underneath his bed, and he knows that right now he might have no choice but to use it. He gets the weapon and the shells, slowly walking down the hall, carefully peering out the windows to see if he can spot the killer. The inside of the cabin is dark, making it easier for him to see the moonlight woods. The forest outside is still.

He steps into the living area.

The ghost stands in the middle of the room, bloody knife in hand.

Greg takes a deep breath. He loads the shells into the gun and aims. He can’t help but think back to all the times his father had told him that he was no good at anything. He wants to prove him wrong in this moment - for his own sake. So that he can see his friends another day. So he can make them laugh. Listen to their stories. Be a shoulder to cry on. To take their minds off of the terrible happenings in the town that he still loves so much. He swallows hard. “I’m not afraid of you.” he pulls the trigger. The gun clicks, but does not fire.

Zero has hardly had much to drink throughout the night, knowing she has a shift at both The Black Cat and Myers’ Funeral Services. She doesn’t mind so much the idea of getting lost in the woods at night, but she much prefers it happen while she’s sober. From memory, they know they’re not too far from the outskirts. They think about stopping by the cemetery just for the sake of it, when they see the Skeleton lurking in the woods. Zero is knowledgable about the killers, mainly because they’re one of the people who has to see the bodies of the victims before they’re buried. Having to prepare the funeral for the police officers who had been brutalised so badly in July, she knows very well what the killer is capable of.

She inches away quietly, keeping her eyes on the killer. Just when she thinks that she’s going to make it out without being noticed, the skeleton’s head snaps to look in her direction. It sprints towards her. Zero had never been a particularly fit person, but her will to survive pushes her to run faster than she’s ever run before. Their fascination with death did not mean that they were so easily ready to accept it. Not here. Not now. Not today.

Zero runs through the woods, completely unsure of which direction they’re heading in now. For all they know, they could have been running in circles. Their bat costume snags on the trees and shrubs as they run, slowing them down and covering them in little scratches all over. The wing gets caught on one particularly sharp branch. The force of them pulling themself free sends them toppling to the ground, scraping their hands and knees as they slide downhill. From there, they slide down a bank and into what they think is a clearing.

Only, there is no clearing ahead. Instead, Zero falls into cold water, fully submerged. She feels weighed down by the fabric of her costume, the bat wings now soaked through and dragging her down. She suddenly regrets not having learned how to swim. With all her energy she splashes and flails and sputters, holding herself just above the water of the dam. She’s moving in some direction, albeit very slowly. She’s losing her energy quickly, and just when she can’t flail her arms anymore, she feels movement in the water ahead of her, and arms sliding under her own, dragging her towards the shore.

Sonnet Wozniak pulls Zero to the bank, and when the water is too shallow to support Zero’s weight, her brother - Leaf Wozniak, helps her drag Zero onto land. Once it’s clear that Zero is conscious and breathing (though very panicked, still), the siblings and their friend Posey help her to her feet. Sonnet wipes the excess water from her face and arms, her woodland sprite costume completely soaking wet. Thankfully, Sonnet has never been the kind of person who would care more about her outfit than a persons life.

“Are you okay?” Leaf asks, brushing Zero’s hair away from her face so that they can get a good look at her in the moonlight. It’s hard to tell if she’s any paler than usual. “You didn’t breathe in any water did you?”

“No, no… I’m okay, I think. I saw a killer. The skeleton. And now I have an awful feeling that everyone is in danger,” Zero told him, hugging her arms around herself as the cool breeze gives her a chill. “I’ve seen what that thing does to people. Do you think there’s anyone else out here?”

“Probably,” Posey says, “We’re out here, aren’t we? It’s likely other people are-” Posey is cut off mid-sentence by an all too familiar sound.

THWIP.

An arrow zips past them, very narrowly missing Sonnet’s shoulder. “What-?” she doesn’t really have time to process what’s happening before Leaf tells her to run. He leads the way, practically dragging Sonnet behind him, Posey and Zero close behind. The Wozniak siblings know the woods better than anyone, but not even they can see the trap before the four of them barrel into it.

The net trap springs up from the ground, surrounding the four of them as they topple into each other, the force of their collision causing them to be winded, and their heads to smash into one another as they have no time to protect themselves. The four of them are on the ground, the heavy, natural fibre of the net covering them. The four of them all clamber in the dark to find the edge of the net, desperate to escape and continue running, but it’s too late. The Hunter is there, untying the trap from the tree branch above and taking the net in his hands, dragging them with some effort across the ground towards an abandoned campsite. The four stick their hands through the netting and try to grasp onto anything nearby, as if that will somehow help them escape. Their attempts are useless.

The wolf-masked killer finds the opening to the net with no issues. First, he retrieves Posey, pulling them out with a hard grip on their upper arm and pulling the net closed again once they’re free of the trap. Posey struggles against his grip, kicking their legs and thrashing around. “What’s your damage? What did I ever do to you?” they ask, breathless from their struggle. The killer ties a rope tight around their right hand. They’re terrified of what the killer has planned.

Posey kicks him in the shin in an attempt to knock him over. “Let go!” The hunter doesn’t so much as flinch. He repeats their action - kicking them in the shin. The blow is so hard Posey fears their leg might break, and they fall to the ground with their right arm still outstretched. There’s a pop in their wrist and they feel a sharp pain. “Fuck-” they wail as the hunter continues to lift them to their feet by their dislocated wrist in order to tie their other hand. He secures them to a low-hanging branch from a nearby tree. Posey stands on the tips of their toes, desperate to keep the intense pressure off their wrist.

Zero finds themself in a state of shock, completely drained of energy and unable to think straight, meaning they don’t put up much of a fight from within the net. But Leaf frantically looks for the exit - which they know exists. Before he can find it, the hunter has opened it. Sonnet is his next victim. He grasps her wrist and begins to pull her out of the trap. Her brows furrow and she digs her heels into the ground, using all of the strength in her legs to try pull her arm free.

“No!” Leaf leaps towards the wolf, throwing his fists aggressively. Despite his fear, he refuses to let the hunter take his sister without putting up a fight for her. As his fists slam against the hunter, he realises that it has no effect on him. Leaf isn’t weak, but he’s not strong enough to make any difference at all. The hunter shoves them down with his other hand, and continues to drag Sonnet away. Despite her struggles, she’s tied up by her wrists right next to Posey, more pressure on her wrists due to her being hung at a taller section of the branch.

Leaf is next. He’s on high alert. He wants to tell Zero to watch for the opening, but he knows that she isn’t in the right mind to be able to do so. He wondered if she’d be able to move even if the opening was obviously visible. When he’s pulled from the net, he tries not to panic, eyes scanning the area to consider his options.

That’s when he spots something hanging from a nearby tree that no-one else had been focused enough to notice.

“Is that what I think it is?” They ask. The creature gurgles, a death rattle escaping it’s throat in a sickening splutter. As the hunter guides Leaf closer, he’s able to see the form properly. A human with their hands pinned to the tree by the killers arrows. A human with no skin; all flesh and fat and muscle visible. The smell of blood suddenly hits him and he can’t contain the contents of his stomach any longer, vomiting into the dirt. Sonnet and Posey hesitantly look behind them, to their left. The moment they see it, they can’t hold in their panicked screams. The hunter ties Leaf next to his sister, and Sonnet immediately tries to comfort him.

The screaming is enough to partially snap Zero out of their trance, so they slowly start to search for the exit. It’s becoming obvious to her now that the opening must have been pulled together by another piece of rope, making it nearly impossible to spot in the dark unless you know what you’re doing. Though just like their friends, they have no chance of escape. The hunter returns for her, forcing her to feet with a sharp tug of her wrist. Once she’s on her feet, she sees the skinned corpse in the moonlight. One thought materialises in her mind. He’s going to skin us alive… and there’s nothing we can do about it. He binds her wrists and places her securely next to Leaf, giving the rope one final tug to be sure it’s tight enough.

“Let us go, you freak!” Posey groans as they struggle to stay on their toes. They want to put up a fight - they want to defend themself. But know there’s no use with their injured wrist. The hunter makes his way to them. He looks Posey up and down slowly. He hasn’t forgotten them. He pulls the hunting knife from its hilt, holding it up to their throat. “What do you want with us? I don’t understand.” He drags the tip of the knife gently down their throat, careful not to make a cut. He stops at the scar on their chest - the same scar that the hunter gave them. He pushes down, slicing into the skin, tracing back along the scar, opening it up. Posey groans, tears filling their eyes.They try to be strong, they try to show the killer that they’re not scared - but it’s not true, and the hunter knows it. Blood swells quickly and slowly trickles down their chest as the hunter moves onto Sonnet.

Leaf’s eyes widen. “No- not her. Not her,” he says, voice a little higher pitched than usual due to the panic. He struggles against his bindings until his forehead begins to sweat. “Don’t touch her, please don’t touch her. Leave her, you can do what you want to me, just please don’t kill her,” he begs.

“No! Leaf don’t be stupid,” Sonnet responds, “I’m fine, I’m going to be fine, don’t provoke him-”

But Leaf doesn’t give in. They kick at the hunter, but barely make contact, the tip of their toes just scraping against his leg. The wolf-masked killer looks at them. Leaf wishes he could know what goes on inside that evil monster's head. What makes him do what he does? The hunter turns to pick up his bow. An arrow is pulled from his quiver - the head of the arrow gleaming in the moonlight as he pulls it back, swinging his aim back and forth as if he’s unsure who to shoot. He settles on Sonnet - an obvious ploy to trigger Leaf.

The hunter releases the arrow and it flies through the air with a sharp hiss. Despite the pain from the weight on his wrists, Leaf swings in front of Sonnet as best he can. The projectile hits him right in the shoulder, piercing through flesh and muscle. He screams as the pain sears with every little movement of his left arm, which is something he can’t help with the way he’s currently held up. The hunter groans, the frustration evident in his voice. It’s the first time that night that any of them hear him. He approaches Leaf, standing face to face with his victim. Leaf swears that the killer smells of real fur - seeing the mask up close it certainly looks like the real face of a wolf fashioned into a mask, which makes him feel ill. Had the wolf been killed just for that purpose? The hunter’s actions make it clear that he has no respect for life. Why would he respect that of the animal whose face he wears? Leaf lashes out in anger, kicking the killer with all of his strength.

He stumbles backwards, though otherwise doesn’t seem to be hurt - only frustrated. Another frustrated growl can be heard, this sound a little more animalistic than the last. He kicks at the ground, his foot hitting against something hard. It doesn’t harm him as much as it surprises him. He crouches, running his fingers over the object that has clearly been left behind by a camper at some point. Suddenly, he has an idea. The hunter stands once more, kicking the object towards Leaf and slowly sliding it in front of his feet. He unsheaths his bloodied knife, holding it threateningly against Leaf’s throat, putrid hot breath blowing against his face.

“Back off,” Leaf spits.

The wolf nudges the item beneath Leaf’s feet. In fear, Leaf holds his feet up, supporting himself entirely by the rope tied around his wrists. Pain shoots down their arms. They know they don’t have much time, and they have no choice but to place their feet back on the ground unless they want both of their wrists to dislocate. Sweat beads down his forehead, rolling down the side of his face and uncomfortably down his neck. When he puts his feet back down, pain shoots through the balls of his feet as something digs deep into his flesh. Although Leaf can’t look down with the knife at his throat, the others can see clearly. The hunter has made him stand on an old wooden board covered in twisted, rusted old nails, some of which are now buried deep inside his feet.

The hunter is not done with him. He’s caused too much trouble to be let off so easy. He moves behind Leaf and uses his already bloody knife to slash down back, tearing through his woodland sprite outfit and into his already aching flesh. There’s nothing Leaf can do but accept it, clenching his teeth so hard it hurts as the knife slices into him.

Sonnet cries harder than ever before. “Leaf- Leaf, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” she sobs, her face shimmering with tears in the faint moonlight.

Leaf lets out a shaky breath, “No, don’t you apologise. You have nothing to apologise for. It’s not your fault, Sonnet.”

The hunter isn’t impressed with the way they comfort each other, especially when his main purpose is to cause as much discomfort as possible. He grabs Sonnet roughly by the hair, pulling it painfully away from her scalp as he holds her in place from behind her. He reaches around the front and plunges the knife into shoulder, pulling the knife toward himself. Sonnet screams, the tears continuing to stream down her face. Leaf sobs - he’s disappointed in himself for not being able to protect Sonnet, even though she would never blame him for any of this. It’s very obvious that this act of violence isn’t witout purpose. The killer enjoys watching their suffering.

The wolf then makes his way to Zero. He grips the neckline of her dress, and with the bloody knife, he cuts through the fabric down to their belly button. The tip of the knife scrapes against their skin, and they fear that the hunter might stab them, but he moves the knife out of the way to push the fabric away from her chest. She thrashes, her hair falling over her face. She tries her hardest not to cry - she doesn’t want the killer to know that he’s getting to her, but similarly to Posey, the killer sees through the act. He slowly traces the knife over her skin, as though he’s contemplating where to start. Zero knows in her heart, however, that the killer already has a plan in mind. The same plan that he’d executed on the corpse hanging from the tree beside them.

He starts above the breast, towards the shoulder, cutting deep into the skin and slicing down until he meets the sternum, knife scraping against bone. Zero groans through gritted teeth, tears stinging her eyes. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. The hunter does the same to the other side until that cut meets the other in the center of her chest. They don’t dare to even attempt looking down, but they can feel the blood dripping down the front of their body. The murderer continues his torture, cutting a straight line down her chest, ending just above her belly button. She can no longer keep her composure, screaming through clenched teeth as her tears spill. She’s not strong enough to hold them back anymore. The hunter slides the knife under her skin and starts to slice and flay, the same way someone might skin a rabbit. The pain is so excruciating that Zero passes out for a moment. More blood drips down over her pale body as he slices, what’s visible of her torso almost entirely covered in blood.

“Hey!”

The three conscious victims hear a commotion from behind the killer. Julio stands near the edge of the campsite with his lantern in hand - held up in front of him. The hunter turns, and the moment he sees the lit flame, he jolts and drops his knife in the dirt. He quickly ducks down to pick it back up, wiping the dirty blood on his pants. Julio takes a step forward, and the hunter steps back hurriedly. It’s this behaviour that is a dead giveaway to Julio that the hunter is afraid of the flame. Being a very quick thinker, and a great problem solver, he immediately knows what to do. The bar owner throws the lantern to the ground with a smash, and the flame lights up the dead leaves on the forest floor. The hunter looks left, then right, as if he’s wondering if there is some way to fix this. But there isn’t. He runs into the darkness, leaving his victims behind.

“What if you start a forest fire?” Leaf asks, sweat beading down his forehead as he watches the fire burn the dead leaves. Normally, Leaf would know that the forest was too damp for any real damage, but in his current situation, that’s not what he’s thinking about.

“It’s okay, it’ll burn out quickly, I promise,” Julio says as he unties Posey, carefully lowering them down to their feet. They immediately hold their wrist, which they can feel has already started to swell. When Sonnet is released, she immediately helps Julio release her brother, reaching down to pull the rusted nails from his feet. The siblings immediately give each other a half hug - being wary of each others injuries. “To make sure you don’t get hurt any further, we need to break the arrow,” Julio tells him. “Brace yourself. I’ll be as careful as I can be.” Sonnet takes Leaf’s hand, and he squeezes her tight while Julio breaks the wooden arrow. Sonnet’s hand hurts, but she says nothing. She can imagine the pain Leaf’s shoulder must be in, as her own shoulder hurts deeply from the stab wound. “Okay, we’re done. Good job.” Julio rubs Leaf’s opposite shoulder very gently as a form of reassurance.

Posey wishes they could do more to help, but with their injury they feel incapacitated. Julio then moves to Zero, gently tapping their cheek until they stir. They’re dazed and confused, and it takes them a moment to come to. Julio decides to leave her secured until she’s a little more aware of her surroundings, fearing that she may collapse the second her feet touch the ground. “How’re you holding up? You’re white as a ghost,” he tells her, carefully pushing strands of white hair behind her ears.

“Mmm… it’s okay I’m always white as a ghost,” they say. Sonnet wraps her good arm around Zero’s waist from behind as Julio undoes the rope around her wrists, gently lowering her to her feet. She’s a little unsteady, and inspecting her wound makes her feel so queasy she almost faints again.

“Don’t look at it, don’t look,” Julio tells her, unzipping his jacket and pulling it down his arms so that he can wrap it around her. He helps her put her arms through the sleeves, and carefully zips it up to be sure to cover the exposed skin and the gruesome wounds. “There. Be careful, now.”

“Sonnet,” Leaf’s tone almost sounds like he’s protesting, “Wait a second.” He tears some of the flowy fabric from his own woodland sprite costume, finding the task especially easy to thanks to the killer having cut it up from the back already. He carefully ties long strips of it around Sonnet’s injured shoulder. Zero witnesses this, and feeling a little more herself now, she picks up a stick and helps, using it to turn the fabric into a better tourniquet.

“There’s a major artery in there. You’re super fucking lucky, tinkerbell,” she tells Sonnet, who is looking a little paler than usual.

Julio motions for them to move, “We have to get out of here, now. It has to have been the fire that scared the killer off, and it’s about to burn out. I know a safe place, not too far from here. We should see if anyone is around and head back to the Ramos cabin. There’s a phone there, as well as access to a road, we can call for help and get paramedics out here.”

He leads them away from the abandoned campsite, running back the way that he came with the four survivors in tow. They move at a relatively quick pace, though they’re careful to be sure Leaf can keep up with their injured feet. The branches of trees and shrubs scratch their arms and their faces as they push through the brush, and all five of them curse and cry out as they push through a group of small New Mexican locust trees, the thorns stabbing them all over their bodies as they move.

As they start to head downhill, Sonnet manages to lose her footing and she topples over a fallen tree, the thick log hitting her right in the stomach and winding her in the process. She slides a little downhill before managing to stabilise herself. It takes a moment for her to catch her breath. “You okay?” he asks, rubbing her back reassuringly.

Sonnet nods her head. “Yeah, just a little winded, it was a harsh blow,” she answers. From then on, they move at a slower pace.

“Okay, let’s take a breather here, we’re not too far now. Just keep your wits about you,” Julio says tiredly. He works long hours behind the bar, but nothing like that could have compared him for such intense cardio on such short notice.

When Sonnet can’t seem to catch her breath properly, that’s when she starts to realise that she doesn’t feel quite right. “I don’t feel so good,” she pants, struggling to get enough air into her lungs, it seems. “It hurts, still.”

“Your shoulder?” Posey asks, taking a step forward to examine the amount of blood soaking into the makeshift torniquet.

“No… yes… everything,” she exhales shakily.

This is when Leaf realises the blood slowly seeping into the front of Sonnet’s costume. He pulls her into the moonlight that beams through the cracks in the canopy above to take a better look. They use their fingers to pry open the fabric over her upper stomach, and it’s evident now that Sonnet has been impaled by a tree branch. He tries not to panic, despite the anxiety that eats away at him. “Y-you’re hurt. Badly.”

Julio takes a look, wincing at the severity of the wound. “Like I said, we’re not too far now. But I think I heard someone in that direction. You wait here while I check it out. I want to make sure we get everyone safe. Don’t touch that,” he motions to the wood that is stuck in her abdomen. “I’ll be quick, alright, cariño?”

The large bonfire crackles loudly, spitting upwards in smooth yet unpredictable flames. Rosie Mahelona and Kang Mi-Sook are the last two surrounding it, growing more and more dependent on the fire’s warmth as the night air grows colder. All of the other partygoers have scattered, spreading out and going their own ways home, something that both Rosie and Mi-Sook are considering - once Greg returns, of course, so the fire isn’t left unattended.

It’s been a long and exciting night. Mi-Sook finds herself having a surprising amount of fun with Rosie; perhaps because upon finding out that she is also the daughter of wealthy investors, she knows that Rosie isn’t just talking to her because of her wealth or her status. Rosie, on the other hand, doesn’t care much about what Mi-Sook’s intentions are; she’s having fun, and that’s all that matters to her.

Rosie is in the middle of recounting an amusing interaction with a Karaoke Dokie frequenter when another person joins the duo; they think nothing of it, and hardly even take the time to note how impressive their skeleton costume is as their night has been long and they’re eager - yet patiently waiting - for Greg’s return so that they can get some rest before Tuesday’s shifts. They both assume that this individual is in the same position.

“I have never heard anyone belt ‘It Must Have Been Love’ with that much passion-” Mi-Sook isn’t disinterested in Rosie’s story, but she finds her mind drift off to other thoughts. Greg is taking an awfully long time to return; it’s unlike him to leave without ensuring that all guests have gone home safely and that all loose ends are tied - he’s known for being a brilliant host. There’s nothing to imply that Greg is in any danger, but still, Mi-Sook feels herself grow anxious for him.

“Are you waiting for Greg too?” Rosie’s question to the skeleton goes unanswered, but their bad manners are excused as Rosie supposes they might have just had too much to drink. “You can head home if you need to; we’re not going anywhere until Greg is back, so you don’t need to worry about the fire or anything.” She’s smiling, though her friendly smile begins to falter as again there’s no response.

The skeleton simply stands there, staring at the two mall employees; their skull eyes are dark and lifeless, and they’re still, too still for someone intoxicated, too still for someone sober, Mi-Sook thinks. The skeleton takes a step forward. They still don’t speak.

“Oh! Is this a trick?” Rosie asks, her cheerful demeanour having returned. “You didn’t even ask me trick or treat!”

The skeleton takes several more steps towards them, moving in a manner that feels eerily uncanny. Rosie’s smile falters again, for good, beginning to feel uneasy. Mi-Sook stands up from the log that they’d been sitting on as a subconscious effort to make herself seem more intimidating to the slow-approaching figure.

As the skeleton is better illuminated, closer to the light of the fire, Mi-Sook can now see that they hold a large, heavy bone in their hand. Nothing about this feels like a trick, nothing about this feels right. She places a hand on Rosie’s shoulder. “Get up.”

Only a few paces away, the skeleton suddenly leaps towards them, swinging the bone towards Mi-Sook first. She manages to dodge, stepping a little too close to the fire in the process. Her fear increases as she strains her body to stop herself from stepping into the flames.

Rosie is not so lucky. She finds herself frozen in place, unable to dodge the attack like her friend, paralysed with fear - that is, until the sturdy femur bone smacks her in the hip. Thankfully the blow is only hard enough to cause bruising, though as Rosie stumbles but keeps her eyes on the attacker, she knows they’re not going to let her get away with only a couple of bruises.

Survival instincts take over, and Mi-Sook tries to make a run for it, at the very least wanting to gain some distance between herself and the fire. The thought of the bonfire possibly burning out of control is far from her mind now, all she worries about is herself and Rosie getting out of there safely; Greg is an empathetic person, he’d have wanted Mi-Sook to prioritise their lives over anything else.

Though she tries her best, the skeleton is too quick for her. They turn away from Rosie, and they lunge towards Mi-Sook, taking a hold of her hair and stopping her in her tracks. They swing the bone with such power that even Rosie can hear the ‘woosh’ that the movement makes. As the skeleton strikes Mi-Sook over the head, even Rosie can hear the ‘crack’ that her skull makes, too.

Mi-Sook has never been hit so hard before, and she swears she’s never felt such terrible pain in her head. She falls to the ground in a heap, the pain so severe that she swears she can hear ringing. She can’t know just how bad her head injury is, though she knows it must be severe from the way that the pain migrates behind her eyes. At least she’s conscious enough to recognise the pain; she tries to hold onto that, knowing she needs to stay vigilant.

To watch Mi-Sook be attacked is the scariest thing Rosie has ever seen. She’s once again frozen in fear, though even if she could find the ability to move, the scene unfolds so quickly; she can’t do a thing for Mi-Sook or herself. The skeleton turns back towards her, and before her breath can even catch in her throat as she gasps with fear, The skeleton swings at her.

Somehow, Rosie finally finds the ability to dodge. She steps back to avoid the hit, and while she avoids the bone coming towards her with another wooshing sound, she steps too far back, and her left leg lands in the fire. Hot flames immediately begin licking at her bare flesh; her Wonder Woman costume doesn’t protect her at all from the heat. She screams, and the skeleton uses her compromised position to land the next hit.

They swing the femur again. Rosie can’t escape, trapped between the killer and the flames, but she tries to protect herself by holding her arm up in front of her face, just in time before the bone makes impact. A cracking sound so like the noise made by Mi-Sook’s fractured skull echoes louder than the crackling of the flames that attack her, too. Rosie immediately knows that her arm is broken; she’s overcome and overwhelmed by the combination of this pain and that of her burning flesh.

With a loud scream leaving her, adrenaline pumping through her body, and no other choice, Rosie lunges towards the killer and she pushes them aside with her full body weight. The force causes them both to tumble to the ground, Rosie landing with a cry of pain that is midway interrupted as she begins to cough due to the smoke. The wound on her leg is covered in dirt and dried leaves, sticking to the damaged skin that has already started to weep.

While Rosie is stuck on the floor, her injuries getting to her, the skeleton scrambles to their feet; they move erratically for a moment, as if upset that they got sent to the forest floor. They hold their bone firmly and they raise it above their head, ready to swing at Rosie again.

Mi-Sook can hardly move from where she is, but through blurred, doubling vision, she can see the skeleton’s foot just within reach. She extends a shaking arm, reaching for them, but she misses it first due to her impaired state. She doesn’t give up; she reaches again. Once she has hold of their ankle, she pulls them down again.

Through tears, Rosie can see Mi-Sook’s face is starting to bruise, her forehead turning purple. She wants to tell her to be careful, she wants to thank her for her help, but she has no time to say a word as the skeleton is scrambling to their knees. They raise their weapon high above their head, and they swing, their aim again being Mi-Sook’s head.

She covers her face with her forearms just in time, and the force of the blow is so powerful that she thinks her arms might break. She’s lucky that they don’t, though without a doubt there will be bruising all up her arms by the end of the night - if she makes it out alive.

From the woods, Mimi slowly approaches the campsite. She’s cautious at first until the bonfire is in clear view; she hadn’t realised that she’d circled back to her starting point. She pauses to take a well needed breath, wondering if Micah got away safely, and that’s when she hears the commotion ahead. Despite her exhaustion, she knows she needs to intervene. It’s not time to rest yet.

She sneaks up on the remaining people around the bonfire. She tries her hardest to stifle a gasp as she spots both Rosie and Mi-Sook on the ground, injured and vulnerable, with the skeleton towering about them both. They hit them both countless times with the bone in their hand, and Mimi, concussed and a little dazed, has no time to be afraid now.

Still undetected, Mimi pushes the skeleton into the fire with all of the strength she has left. She takes Rosie by the hand and tries to pull her up, too quickly for Rosie to be able to protest. Rosie screams, crying as she tries to tug her arm away from Mimi, who had no idea that she was taking her broken arm. Mimi apologises profusely, and they help her up with her left arm instead. They feel sick, though they’re unsure if it’s from the guilt of further injuring Rosie or if it’s because their own injuries are catching up to them.

Now standing, Rosie turns her head to see that the skeleton makes no sound as their body writhes in the fire, the flames spitting and rising higher. Rosie knows what the smell of burning flesh is like - she’s unsure if she’ll ever be able to forget it after having her leg burnt by the fire. The skeleton smells nothing like that, as if there’s no flesh being burnt at all. She tries to shake the irrational thoughts from her head as Mimi rushes to assist Mi-Sook.

Mi-Sook aches all over, but no blow lands her with an injury that hurts more than her head. She sits up properly - slowly - reaching her hands up to her forehead. Rosie, having turned back from the skeleton just as Mi-Sook does this, shouts. “Don’t! You don’t want to touch it, you shouldn’t, please.”

Mi-Sook doesn’t listen. Her fingers trace over her forehead, which has already started to swell. Even so, she can feel the depression in the middle. Her head doesn’t feel right. She begins to feel as nauseous as Mimi, who swiftly helps her up with Rosie’s assistance, too. Both of them hold one of Mi-Sook’s arms each, both to support her, and to support her, and to prevent her from irritating her head injury by touching it again.

“We should find Greg. If he’s out here alone, who knows what might happen to him?” They suggest.

Ottilie and Ozzy Morrison are on their way home. They themselves are a bit of an eerie spectacle walking through the woods all alone in the middle of the night, dressed as the twins from the Shining, in identical blue dresses. The spooktacular afterparty had been great for both of them, receiving many excited compliments by those who recognised them as the Grady twins, to which they would respond with a “come play with us,” to frighten those who had had a little too much to drink.

“I think you could do what Chokehold on Love does, you know.” Ozzy tells her sister as they walk. “I could see you performing at the next party Greg throws; you’ve got what it takes, I think you might even be more talented than them.” Of course Ozzy is biassed, not only talking to her sister, but her best friend.

Though Ottilie considers it, she plays it cool, shrugging her shoulders. “Chokehold are practically famous, I think I have a long way to go before I reach their status.” She shakes her head, though the smile on her face is proof of her appreciating her sister. “I’ll think about it.” She adds, not caring to reject such a sweet suggestion.

They continue walking, but then Ozzy’s head turns sharply as she believes she hears something not too far away. “What’s wrong?” Ottilie’s cool girl demeanour melts away in a second, concern for her sister written on her face.

Ozzy listens carefully for a moment longer, but hears nothing more. “Nothing.” She dismisses it, though unease settles in the pit of her stomach. “I’m probably just paranoid.” It’s not unlike Ozzy to be paranoid, but Ottilie knows that her paranoia has always been justified. “I thought I heard something.” Ozzy finishes explaining, and it’s her turn to shrug.

Ottilie takes her sister’s hand. “It’s alright. We’re not far from the road now. It w-” Ottilie stops speaking suddenly, thinking she hears something now, too. She stops in her tracks, pulling on Ozzy’s hand to bring her to a halt also. While they’ve had moments of ‘twin telepathy’ - though far from in any supernatural sense - for them to both be mistakenly hearing things is too strange to be coincidental.

They both stand in silence, holding their breath to see if they really had imagined the noise or not. They’re met with nothing but the rustling of the leaves in the breeze. After a beat, Ottilie exhales slowly; she’s relieved. They continue.

They make it only a couple of steps further before they both hear the noise again, coming from behind them. There has to be something, they’re now sure of it. Ottilie turns her head, but nothing can be seen in the darkness. “It’s probably nothing. Just the trees in the wind. It’s okay. We’re almost at the road.” Ottilie’s reassurance is for herself as much as it is for her sister; they both repeat her words in their minds over and over. They’re both afraid.

They can see the break in the trees ahead of them, where the road runs through the forest and leads back to town. They keep moving, stepping through the trees and into the lengthy grass that’s always left overgrown beside the aged asphalt of the road. In perfect sync, the twins let out a sigh of relief, but they do so too soon.

Suddenly, Ozzy’s hand is ripped from Ottilie’s. Ottilie’s body whips around to see the cause, and she’s in too much shock to even gasp when she sees the Jack-O-Lantern killer dragging her sister back through the trees with a firm grip on her hair. Ozzy lets out a cry as she loses her footing, being dragged away from the road and her sister quickly, dragged over sticks, branches and rocks that scrape her exposed skin.

Ottilie immediately begins to chase them back into the forest, panic stricken, but determined. So many thoughts race through her mind; the Jack-O-Lantern killer was meant to be in prison, she doesn’t understand what is happening. All Ottilie knows is that she can’t let Ozzy get hurt, she must protect her sister.

She breathlessly catches up to her sister and the killer. She reaches out for Ozzy, who reaches out for her, crying. “Ot-” she chokes on a cry, their fingers almost touching, but then Jack stops and turns abruptly. With a large boot, he kicks Ottilie away from them. Ottilie lands strewn out on the forest floor, her skin getting cut and scraped on everything on the ground that has hurt her sister, too.

The large pumpkin’s face appears to be looking in Ottilie’s direction as he slams her sister’s body against a tree harshly. Her head smacks against the bark terribly hard; Ottilie winces due to the sound of the collision, and she struggles to get back up onto her feet due to her own injuries and the breathlessness that the chase and the kick has left her with.

Ozzy’s feet dangle from what feels like a great height; she’s held higher than Jack’s impressively tall height, and the dizziness that comes with her head injury makes it look like she’s even dangerously higher. She’s afraid, but she can mostly only feel her hurt. She’s crying, but she can’t seem to say a word as she’s completely stunned by pain.

Ottilie sways slightly as she gets to her feet, but she’s not plagued with the dizziness of her sister, and she quickly pulls herself together. “You let her go!” She cries, charging back towards Jack. Jack listens; he lets Ozzy go, dropping her from where he holds her, her weakened body falling to the ground harshly. More cuts and scrapes cover her body as she lands on the nature covered floor below.

Before either of the Morrison twins can do a thing, Jack now grips Ottilie by the front of her blue dress. He knocks the wind out of her by throwing her against a tree, and then he readjusts his grip, taking her by the hair and repeatedly smacking the back of her head against the tree. Her skin splits open, blood trickles down her neck onto her back, and the repeated smacking of her head smears blood against the bark; Ottilie loses her vision temporarily in the impact, but she doesn’t need to see the wound to know that it’s bad.

The killer throws Ottilie down to the ground again, and this time, she can’t get up. Her head spins, her body aches, and no matter how hard she tries, she can’t move properly. “Ozzy,” she calls out miserably, still so concerned for her sister. She regains her vision - albeit in a woozy double form - just in time to see Jack go back to the younger twin.

In an easy and smooth motion, he picks Ozzy up off of the forest floor. While stunned and dizzy, Ozzy tries to struggle free from the grip, kicking her legs and reaching for the hand that holds her firmly. Her efforts are stopped as he slams her into the side of the tree again. The large eyes on the pumpkin mask turn to face the twin struggling on the ground as he pulls out his large carving knife. It’s a sick display, even Ottilie in her impaired state can see that he’s acting so torturously in an attempt to harm the two of them at once.

“Please, no, please-” Ozzy’s chest moves up and down rapidly as she heaves, sobbing, so afraid and in so much pain. The Jack-O-Lantern killer doesn’t stop. He brings the knife up to Ozzy’s chest, and slowly he begins his torturous cut, slicing across her chest. Ozzy screams; the shriek that comes from her makes Ottilie nauseous; both girls cry harder than before, and Ottilie keeps trying to regain her strength and ability, pulling herself up into a seated position, swaying but keeping herself up.

As the front of Ozzy’s dress begins to turn dark with her blood, the killer moves the knife down, tracing down her front with the tip of the blade, enough to scratch the fabric of the already ruined dress, but not to cut her any more - not just yet.

“Stop it! You monster!” Ottilie spits, pulling herself up onto her knees, struggling but determined. She picks up a rock, throwing it in Jack’s direction. She misses, but she picks up another rock anyway, preparing herself. Ozzy can’t believe that her sister is still conscious; she cries for how hard she’s trying.

Again, Jack doesn’t stop. When the knife reaches Ozzy’s lower stomach, he turns his mask to face Ottilie again; the killer’s real eyes can’t be seen behind the mask, but still, his gaze is felt and it worsens Ottilie’s nausea and distress. She tries to pull herself up onto her feet. She stumbles once, but then regains her footing.

“Oz!” Her shoulders shake as she sobs, stepping towards them uncoordinatedly. She’s only stopped as Ozzy screams, another gut-wrenching shriek echoing through the forest. The killer presses the tip of the knife into Ozzy’s stomach, slowly, painfully.

“Stop!” Ottilie begs, in more pain watching her sister get hurt than she would be if it was her in Ozzy’s position. Jack twists the knife ever so slightly. “Stop! Take me instead! Take me instead!” Ottilie’s desperation is not at all concealed. She cries so loudly, and it’s the only thing that can be heard as the rest of the forest seems to fall into silence.

“Take me instead.” She begs. Her voice is now steady; she sounds sure.

“Ottilie,” Ozzy cries, “no!”

“You can make it out of here, Oz, you can-”

Ozzy thrashes, worsening the wound as the tip of the knife remains dug into her flesh. “No!”

“Olivia!” Ottilie snaps, getting her to stop. “You can still make it home.” Her voice breaks.

“I don’t want to make it home without you.”

Ottilie looks away from Ozzy’s eyes, directing her gaze back to the killer. “Take me instead,” she requests, “you piece of shit!” she screams, throwing the rock still held in her hand with all of her anger behind it. It hits Jack’s mask with a thud. “Come and get me!”

Ozzy sobs as the knife is pulled from her and she’s dropped to the ground. The Jack-O-Lantern killer walks over to Ottilie, and without wasting a beat, he plunges the knife into her stomach, then ripping it out just as fast. Ottilie reaches up to place her hands over the wound, and she stumbles backwards as the impact is too much on her weak and unstable body. She falls back, hitting the forest floor with a thump.

Though Jack still stands over her, looking as though he’s going to strike again, Ozzy begins to crawl her way over to her sister. She wants to call out to her, she wants to be strong enough to stand to run the few paces to her, but she can’t, and that adds to her devastation. She reaches out her hand, Ottilie reaches out too, and their fingertips touch.

They’re both sure that the killer isn’t done yet, and their hearts are broken for each other. Ozzy pulls herself close enough to be able to take Ottilie’s hand, but Jack inflicts no more pain onto them.

The call of a wolf is heard somewhere distant in the woods. The killer stops; no expression can be seen, but it seems that he’s contemplating something before he turns and leaves in the direction of the call, as though there is something more important to do than to watch at least one of the suffering twins die.

The light blue dresses are soaked with blood. Their costumes were scarily brilliant when they arrived to the spooktacular, and despite all of the horrific changes, they’re still true to the characters, only now they’re the Grady twins as they were when lying in a pool of their own blood after having been killed by their father.

At least the Morrison twins survive their attack, if only just.

Julio ventures deeper into the woods. He knows that he’s not too far from the others, but something in his gut tells him that he has to keep searching for whatever it was that had made that noise. He walks swiftly but as quietly as possible, keeping an ear out for any other noises. And that’s when he hears it. Talking. Muffled, quiet talking. It doesn’t sound threatening in any way - if anything, it sounds slightly panicked.

He follows it as best he can. “Hello?” he asks, trying not to raise his voice too loud in case danger lurks nearby, “Is there anybody out there?”

“Julio?”

Julio recognises Mimi’s voice, and not too far away, her head pokes out from behind a tree. She looks bruised and battered, and Julio realises quickly that they must have had an encounter with a killer also. She steps out into the open, and Rosie, Mi-Sook, Micah and Aera follow closely behind, all looking varying degrees of injured and dishevelled.

“I have a group of people who were attacked by the killer with the wolf mask,” Julio tells them.

“Micah and I were attacked by the scarecrow,” says Mimi.

“I was attacked by the ghost,” Aera tells him.

“We were attacked by the skeleton!” Rosie motions to Mi-sook, who stands beside her, “Then Mimi found us, and then we found Micah and Aera.”

“Thankfully I have. You all look in terrible shape,” he says sympathetically. He feels truly relieved to have found them. The group smell of sweat and blood and if human panic had a smell, he was sure that they’d smell exactly like that. Julio wants to do his best to get everyone to safety. “Greg’s cabin is not too far from here. I’ll take you there. I’m going to call a paramedic and get everyone some help.”

Mimi, Micah, Aera, Rosie and Mi-sook don’t hesitate to follow Julio back the way he came. When he reaches his original group, he counts everyone to be sure no-one has been left behind. The original quartet of victims converse with the five new additions to their group, as best as they can, anyway. They don’t have too much time to fill each other in, each one of them growing weaker by the moment.

As Julio begins to lead them in the right direction, each person carefully supports one another as best they can, carefully avoiding one anothers injuries. Still, from behind him he hears an array of unpleasant sounds, little sobs, groans, hisses through clenched teeth, and every now and again, a high pitched “ouch!” But it’s not long before he hears a groan that doesn’t come from behind him, but instead, from in front of him.

He rushes forward, into a clearing, standing beside one of the larger trees. In the moonlight he notices the glistening of the bark. The strong smell of iron was a dead giveaway that it wasn’t tree sap. Then, he sees the Morrison twins, collapsed on the ground, barely conscious and drenched in blood. He motions for the others to come forward, knowing he won’t be able to help them alone. First, he helps Ottilie to her feet. “Easy does it,” he says softly.

Posey comes forward to support her with their good arm. “We’re getting help now, just hang on a little longer.” Ottilie can’t even bring herself to answer Posey - she doesn’t even have the strength to give a nod of acknowledgement.

Ozzy lets out a cry, a sob so sad and pained that she sounds like a helpless child. Julio assists her next, pulling her up and supporting her himself. “Ottilie…” she sobs, wrapping an arm around his waist. She wants nothing more than to be the one to support her sister, but she barely has the strength.

“Come on now. I know the way so well from here, I’ve walked it a hundred times or more. I’m not going to let any of you down,” he’s determined. These are the people he sees at the mall and greets with a big smile every time they pass by, or come through his bar. These are the people he treats with utmost respect everytime they serve him in whatever store they happen to work for. Julio is a people person through and through. This trait can be seen in Greg too, it somehow having been passed onto him despite there being no biological link.

There’s a little dip before the terrain is flat again, and Julio moves down at an excruciating pace, waiting patiently for all eleven of the victims to make their way down at their own pace. However, when he thinks all is well, he takes a step that he very much regrets taking.

SNAP.

Julio drops, poor Ozzy being knocked to the ground beside him, having no-one to support her. He screams, and as he tries to move away from the source of the pain, he realises he has made a huge mistake. Courtesy of Greg’s father, a bear trap had been laid beneath the autumn leaves. It now holds his leg between its huge, rusted, steel jaws. Tears prick at his eyes, but he somehow feels the need to be strong for those who have been more severely injured than him. He wants them to feel safe with him.

“Julio! Let us help,” Micah says, hobbling towards him, “I know that a lot of us aren’t at full strength, but if a few of us try, I’m sure we can get it undone.” He carefully crouches down, wincing hard at the pain in his thigh. It’s excruciating, but with everything Julio is doing for them, he wants to be of some use to him.

“Compress the springs,” Zero tells him, “Close to the… thing.” She steps forward, motioning towards the metal disc that had set off the trap to begin with. “These things. If you compress them, squeeze it, it’ll open the trap again and he can move his foot safely.”

Aera moves forward to help, before remembering that her hands are no good for the job, having been slashed in her attempt at self defence. Posey motions for them to stay back. They’re also rendered useless with a dislocated wrist and their other arm supporting a near unconscious Ottilie. Rosie moves to the opposite side of Micah, using her left hand to put pressure on the spring. Mi-sook crouches beside her, putting the last of her strength into helping her. Sonnet is next, crouching beside Micah and, despite her injuries, putting pressure on the springs. The trap creaks and screeches as it loosens, falling open once more.

Julio pulls his leg away from the trap, his jeans soaked with blood. No doubt he has broken the bone, though he’s unsure how severely. He refuses to let this stop him. He helps himself to his feet. “Thank you. I can’t say I’ve ever had that happen before. I don’t know what I’d have done without you,” he’d be having a stern word to Greg’s father about the matter, that’s for sure. Zero helps Ozzy to her feet and supports her as Julio hobbles in the direction of the cabin.

Back on track, everyone is exhausted from the fear, but relieved that salvation seems to be just around the corner.

When Julio reaches the cabin, he struggles up the steps onto the porch. He approaches a potplant that holds a very dead aloe vera plant, and lifts it to get the spare key that Greg leaves out for emergencies. He unlocks the door, moves aside quickly and ushers everyone inside. Once he’s sure everyone is safely inside, Julio shuts the door behind them all and makes sure it’s securely locked. He lets out a shaky sigh as he really starts to feel the pain in his leg. But he reassures himself with the same words he’d been saying to the others all night. It’s not long now, we’re getting help.

Julio heads over to the fireplace, fetching a match from the mantel. He strikes it, and the tiny flame glows brightly in the dark before he throws it onto the logs. The firestarters that are in there take no time bursting into flames, the entire room filling with warm orange light. “There. Everyone stay by the fire and keep warm while I get some help.” Despite everyone being safe, the room is eerily silent. Not just metaphorically, but literally silent. No noise aside from the crackling of the fire. Julio slowly turns to face the group. All of them are looking at the hardwood floor. And that’s when he sees it too.

There is blood all over the ground, pools and splatters and distinct footprints dragging it all around the room. He wonders how he didn’t smell it before he lit up the room. Was it because his party also smelled of bitter iron? Everyone remains silent, a few of the injured looking up at him as if to say, “What has happened here?” Julio wouldn’t have had an answer even if they’d asked.

He slowly follows the trail of blood into the hallway, where the pooling of the dark red liquid gets worse and worse with every step he takes. At the end of the hall he can just make out a body lying in a heap, motionless. His gut tells him that the victim is Greg. Who else would it be? He rushes towards him, forgetting all about the severe pain in his leg as he puts his full weight on it in order to get to him faster. He hooks his arms under Greg’s, pulling him out into the living area, by the fire.

Tears start to stream down his face. “Greg! Greg, mijo, look at me,” he says, kneeling on the ground and pulling Greg’s body into his lap. The body is still warm, which Julio mistakes for a sign of life. “Someone call 911! The phone - it’s in the kitchen!” His voice is panicked. No-one has ever seen Julio in such pure distress. He holds Greg close to him, tears dripping down his cheeks and falling onto Greg’s still face. Zero makes her way to the kitchen to make the phone call, hoping that it won’t take them too long to get eleven injured people and a corpse out of the little cabin in the woods.

Julio realises now that Greg is no longer breathing. There are countless lacerations all over his body, which explains the amount of blood all over the cabin floor. No-one could possibly lose so much blood and survive to live the tale. So all he does is hold him tight to his body as he is wracked with desperate sobs. Everyone else in the room is devastated. Most of the residents of Shrike have known Greg in some capacity, especially those who had found themselves at his Spooktacular Afterparty. This is a loss for everyone. Shrike will never be the same. Even still, the injured party understand that Julio will be forever changed by this. Many tears are shed by everyone in the room, but Julio will be shedding tears for Greg for the rest of his life.

“My boy… My boy I am so sorry,” he sobs, running his hand through Greg’s blue-painted hair. He speaks as though Greg can still hear him. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to protect you. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.” Julio would never forgive himself.

In a few minutes, Julio’s cries fall silent, and all that can be heard is sirens in the distance.

plot drop 011 features ten of our muses encountering the jack-o-lantern killer, the hunter, the ghost, the scarecrow + the skeleton.

aera davies is left with several deep slashes to the arms and hands and a deep stab wound to the abdomen, resulting in severe blood loss.

kang mi-sook is left with bruising over body, several broken rips and a depressed skull fracture.

leaf wozniak is left with cuts and scratches, an arrow in the shoulder, a deep wound down the back, injuries to the feet and substantial blood loss.

micah miller is left with hematoma on the head, concussion and a stab wound to the leg resulting in substantial blood loss.

ottilie morrison is left with bruises and scrapes over the body, a concussion/head injury and a deep stab wound to the stomach, resulting in severe blood loss.

ozzy morrison is left with bruises and scrapes over the body, a concussion, a cut across the clavicle/chest and a minor stab wound to the stomach resulting in mild blood loss.

posey bryant is left with cuts and scratches, dislocated wrist, deep cut across chest and minor blood loss.

rosie mahelona is left with bruising over the body, a broken arm and a severe burn to the leg.

sonnet wozniak is left with cuts and scratches, stab wound to the shoulder, impalation to the upper abdomen and substantial blood loss..

zero heathcliff is left with cuts and scratches, scrapes and bruises and deep slices across the chest resulting in substantial blood loss.

#plot drop 11 #car crash tw #car accident tw #violence tw #blood tw #vomit tw #stabbing tw #injury tw #aggression tw #broken bone tw #head injury tw #death tw #flaying tw #skinning tw #trauma tw #burn tw

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