The story begins at a house in the woods. I’m with a group of friends enjoying a weekend trip. But instead of building up suspense in the story, it starts off with us all already in the shit. There is a killer on the loose, disposing of his victims with a hockey stick.
I was walking a trail outside of the cabin late into the night when a girl from down the road came barreling down the road in her SUV. She was racing to us to warn us of the killer. I turned to the cabin, seeing the silhouettes of my friends passing by the window, and I charged after them.
Before I made it back into the house, I could see the killer had already captured someone in the yard. I dove into my car and watched helplessly. Trying to keep from being noticed, I used the light from my phone to inconspicuously shine the light on the locks to ensure the car was secured. The killer came by the car and I felt he could see me even though he didn’t stop.
Once the coast was clear, I ran back inside the house. There were only three of us remaining. One of the guys took a seat by the kitchen window as he was complaining about something. The back door opened, and the killer came strolling into the kitchen on roller skates and chopped off the head of the guy on the floor. He stopped in the center of the kitchen and greeted the other guy and myself. He explained that he was just trying to kill off the whiners. He slept underneath the bed at night and wanted to keep that arrangement.
Into the night, I couldn’t sleep. The killer was underneath my bed, snoring, hockey stick in hand. My arm was hanging just barely off the edge of the bed when I felt a slice into my finger. I pulled my hand back to see the blade of the hockey stick lodged into the side of the bed. I quietly climbed out of bed, snuck out of the house, and escaped.
And then I woke up…