The Carter Hollow Murders

Bryn Hafer - Challenge Four

User: CraZCanuck

I snicker when I hear the news.

'Carter Hollow. Is having. A dance.' For the first time since arriving at this gruesome, murder-filled terror house, I let out genuine, raucous laughter. 'They can't be serious, can they? Allowing people to be close and personal, within striking distance of a knife or any other weapon. What the hell are they thinking?'

I allow myself a second to think. 'What could possibly have been going through their heads?'

I walk down the hallway, thinking deeply. 'They want everyone together so no one is an easy target, I get that much. But why a dance? Do they think that it'll somehow make the murderer happy, and they'll stop killing?' A snort escapes me, and I shake my head. 'Someone's gonna die, and I don't want it to be me.'

I make up my mind as I walk down the hallway. 'I'll lock myself in my room. Alone. I'll lock the windows and barricade myself in.'

At least, that was the plan before I bumped into her.

The girl goes sprawling to the floor, and begins babbling apologies like crazy.

"Relax. It's fine." I give her a once-over. "Hmm... I don't think we've met, have we?" She stammers a little for a response. 'She okay?'

"N-no, we haven't. I-I'm Joan Holmes. Joni, if you prefer."

"Bryn Hafer," I tell her, extending an arm for her to shake. She mentions my playing tennis, which strikes me as unnerving. 'How does she know things about me...?'

"Anyway... You hear about the dance...?" She asks. I choose my answer carefully.

"Yeah, I did." And I decide to ask her first. "You going?" But she picks the only answer that isn't an answer at all.

"Not sure," she mumbles. "You?" I hesitate. 'Lie, Bryn. Lie. Don't let her know that you plan on hiding out until it's all over.'

"I was planning to." I look at my feet, a horrible liar. "Nothing better to do," I add. And I don't know what comes over me when I ask: "Wanna come with me?"

"I'd love to. Meet you there, then?"

"Sounds good." 'Very, very bad idea, Bryn. Dangerous....'

* * *

After that conversation, I overhear her talking to her friends excitedly, and that frustrates me. 'Now I HAVE to go. I don't want to make someone cry over something I didn't do, and ruin the dance for her.

So I put on some of my best clothes, and head to the dance, watching as loud music pumps through the dance area and sweaty, bouncing bodies move in sync.

And finally, I do find her.

"Joan." I slowly spin her around. "So... I'm here. Wanna dance?"

"Yeah, I'd love to." To my surprise, the night isn't so bad. It's eerily creepy though, knowing one of the people slow-dancing beside us, or even Joan, could be the one who's been plunging knives, and anything else they can find, into people. Joan and I talk a fair bit, but I feel bad for tuning out to some of it as we make small talk. I find myself fully en guard, awaiting any possible catastrophe. I find myself waiting to hurl myself into a classroom somewhere and hide. 'The killer is right here. Right in this dance pad, somewhere. And I don't know who.' That scary thought seems to dampen the dance's mood for me, and by the time it's over, I'm relieved to go back to the comfort and safety of my barricaded room.

The dance was reasonably uneventful, at least from what I've seen.