“Careful,” the student says, smiling. “Rumor has it that The Butcher is back.” You smile at the old ghost story, a holdover from days spent hazing freshman every Halloween. It’s good to know the new students keep up traditions. No matter how long it’s been, some things never change.
Butcher or not, nothing beats an autumn walk in the woods. You thank the student and head down the old, familiar paths towards The Glen. You brush past the old, stone buildings you used to study in, each window black. For what feels like the first time, you see other people on campus, but they’re all at a distance, jackets pulled around their faces. No one turns towards you or acknowledges your presence, but you get the feeling that they’re watching you.
It’s a relief when you’re past the last building, it’s darkened windows behind you as you approach the path into the woods.
You look around for a group, but all you see is a note nailed to a tree. It reads:
“Dear Alumni, if you’re reading this, we’re already at the ropes course. If you know the Glen, feel free to find us. Otherwise, wait for the next Orientation Leader to arrive.”
So, what’ll it be?
Homecoming of Horrors 
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