The kids scream. The witches cry harder and crowd together, begging to be spared in soft, panicky voices. The clowns spread out in the room to find safety with others. The farmer boys whimper, sobered up from all the fear. The two boys who were making out in the first room cling to each other, hiding behind a decoration. The others who hadn’t been in the first room shove their way to the back of the crowd, finding solace in numbers and behind crazy decorations.
The lights flicker on for a moment before turning back off. The music screeches to a stop and the sudden lack of bass and guitar is deafening. The whole room seems to hold its breath, waiting for one small thing to disrupt the tension.
Near the clown and the girl dressed as Wednesday there's a noise. A noise that sounds like sudden touching, like someone struggling against another person. There's the soft sound of tearing, of a strip of cloth or rope rubbing against itself fast. Everyone that can hear it backs away, panic in their chests, screams rising in their throats. They push into the other people as everyone clears the area near the noises.
The boy with the mask quickly shoves it back on, standing protectively in front of his friend.
The killer rips the girl's braided wig off her head and spins her around. They quickly wrap the braid around her neck and force the girl to her knees.
She chokes on her words, tears streaming down her face as she struggles to beg for her life.
The killer doesn’t care. They lift their foot and push on the back of the girls neck while pulling the braid toward themself. Overbalancing, the killer stumbles and falls onto the girl's back. They straddle her and twist the hair, yanking on the ends to cut her airways off.
The teens continue to push away from the deadly action, not wanting to be anywhere near the killer. They stumble over each other, their voices drowning out the girl’s struggling wheezes and grunts.
The girl gags and claws at the wig, squirming around as she chokes. He bucks her hips, shoving her butt into the air in an attempt to throw the killer off.
They don’t budge, instead they tighten their legs and lean back, forcing the girl into a cobra style yoga pose. The killer grumbles almost imperceptibly at how long the girl is holding on.
Growing impatient, the killer shoves the girl's head to the ground and clamps their hands around her throat. They squeeze as tight as they can, the tips of their fingers digging into the girl's vulnerable flesh.
Faster than she thought, her vision goes blurry. White spots float around the dark before turning to black creeping in slowly. It doesn’t take much longer for the black to take over her entire field of vision.
The killer grabs her head and twists hard, struggling just a little bit before snapping the girl's neck. The sound of the girls vertebrae separating and nerves snapping echoes in the room.
The lights come back on and there are gasps, cries, screams, sobs. The killer is already gone, away from the dead body. The girl dressed as a clown covers her mouth, tears filling her eyes quickly as she stares at the dead body of her best friend.
Like the last time, people rush at the door and window, banging and yanking on locks. The door opens after a good kick from a big guy dressed in football gear and everyone instantly floods to the next room, seeking safety, seeking a way out.
All except the girl dressed as a clown. She sinks to her knees next to her friend's body, not able to look at the horrible angle of the head or the blank stare of the open eyes. She stares at the spot on the floor next to her friend's hip, letting the tears spill over her eyes.
In the other room, the boy in the mask checks over his friend while also trying to keep his eye out for a specific girl with pigtails and clown makeup.
All around the room, which is themed after an alien apocalypse, people are yelling and cursing and crying. No one knows what’s happening or why. Horror, fear, panic, and most of all, hysteria is settling in the room. People begin to yell at their own friends, the people they trust because they’re letting their frustration take over.
Out of the 75 or so people in the room, only a few are staying calm and collected. This just pissed others off even more. For those it doesn’t piss off, it makes them suspicious. After all, how could one stay calm and collected in a situation like this?
They are trapped, again. They are stuck in another Halloween room with a murderer. A murderer who is very good at blending in.
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