Spring Break

Chapter 8: The show

A ripple of laughter cascaded through the crowd, punctuated by sporadic whoops and cheers that echoed off the high ceilings of the grand room. The assembled guests believed it to be part of the evening's entertainment, a harmless, albeit odd, prank. Yet, I could sense an undercurrent of something off-kilter. The atmosphere in the room had subtly shifted, becoming electric with a sense of anticipation that was almost tangible.

The man adorned with a horned mask raised his hands in a commanding gesture, instantly silencing the crowd. He looked around the room, his gaze invisible behind the mask but palpably intense, akin to a predator surveying its unsuspecting prey. "Our first act," he began in a voice that dripped with an ominous undertone, "is a game of survival."

A stunned silence filled the room. The partygoers looked around at each other, exchanging confused glances; their laughter dying on their lips. Surely, it was a joke, right?

Everyone was drunk and high, believing it was just a sick joke.

But the man's next actions wiped the lingering smirk off everyone's face. He reached into his bag and pulled out a gun. His companions, also masked, followed suit. His first victim was Christopher who was standing in front of them. A single shot was fired, hitting him in the heart and sending him crashing to the floor.

Pandemonium erupted. People screamed, ducking for cover, scrambling desperately towards the exits. But the doors were locked. The windows had been boarded up from outside. There was no way out.

The horned man laughed, the sound chilling to the bone. "The rules are simple," he said, his voice rising above the ensuing chaos. "The last one standing wins."

What had started as a party had quickly devolved into a hellish nightmare. People were panicking, some were crying, and a few had even started praying.

I had heard the initial screams from the bathroom and quickly emerged, passing by the darkened room I had just been in. I noticed two bags that looked suspiciously like human forms. Trying not to dwell on the gruesome possibilities, I quickly passed by them and peered down from the second floor. I saw Christopher's lifeless body sprawled on the floor. I looked up and saw terrified faces looking down from the third floor. People were panicking and trying to escape but all doors and windows were securely locked.

There were three killers in total, all armed with multiple weapons. They were indiscriminately shooting at everyone, even those seeking refuge upstairs.

A few brave souls tried to attack the killers but they were easily overpowered, as if the killers had been training for this their whole lives. From the corner of my eye, I saw Kimberly darting through the crowd, before she pushed and fell on her back. The stampede of terrified party-goers didn't even pause, trampling her in their mad rush to escape.

Amid the chaos, they were inadvertently trampling on Kimberly. The relentless pressure of their hard shoes bore down on her head, and the sharp stiletto heels stabbed into her like knives. Suddenly, the pointy edge of someone's heel found its mark on Kimberly's eye, causing it to bleed profusely in a horrific sight.

Overwhelmed by the searing pain, she let out a piercing scream. In a desperate attempt to escape further harm, she turned her body around and began to drag herself across the rough floor, but to no avail. The crowd continued to step on her, oblivious to her distress. Her breath became ragged, then faint, until she finally lost consciousness and died amidst the crushing crowd.

However, Kimberly was not the only casualty of the panicked stampede. Others too fell victim to the chaos, their bodies tumbling down amidst the frightened masses. The rush to escape led to many being pushed and shoved violently. In the ensuing turmoil, many suffered from gruesome injuries. Their legs were broken, their ankles twisted in unnatural angles, rendering them unable to run any further. This left them at the mercy of the relentless killers or the frenzied crowd, each one fighting their own desperate battle for survival.

I was frozen in horror, watching these people die right before my eyes.

When they finally managed to break down the door, their relief was short-lived. Three bombs detonated, killing everyone who had made it outside. Then, the parked cars exploded, and those who had survived and attempted to flee into the surrounding woods, were ensnared by the bear traps that the killers had strategically placed.

For some reason, my first thought was of the children. As I ran, I saw two of the killers ascending the stairs, guns blazing. I quickly sprinted to the children's room and secured the door. "Hurry! Hide! There's a dangerous man outside!" I hastily arranged them under blankets and pillows, trying to make them as inconspicuous as possible. Suddenly, one of the little ones spoke up.

"Ryan's brother isn't here, he went to look for him," she said between sobs.

"Oh no..." I murmured in response.

I told them to stay there and not to come out no matter what.

Suddenly, all the lights were turned off, and only a few red emergency lights flickered on. I've always hated the dark, and now it seemed the killers were using it to their advantage.

The music started playing again, but the house  was eerily silent. Everyone was hiding in the shadows, trying to be as quiet as they could. As I tiptoed through the darkness, looking for Ryan's younger brother, Reivahs, I could hear the muffled crying of the remaining guests and the occasional gunshot. Each shot made me flinch as I crept on the wooden floor.

Suddenly, I stepped a little too hard, and the old floorboards creaked loudly under my foot.

I saw a dark figure in the distance, running towards me with an axe.

My heart pounded in my chest as I turned and ran in the opposite direction.

"What the fuuuuuuuck!!" I yelled as I sprinted away, terror fueling my speed.