You drop the pill on the ground and walk out. Probably smart, that could’ve been molly for all you know. Now, where are your friends? You could text the unknown number that invited you here, but you still don’t know who it is and would rather not have to stand around awkwardly as you wait for a response. They’re probably in the basement playing beer pong like the old days.  You could just head there.

A) Text the unknown number.

B) Head to the basement.

You text the number. Hey! I’m at DK, where are you guys??

To your surprise, you receive an almost immediate response.  

Hey you!!! I was starting think I’d seen a ghost earlier 👻 we’re all upstairs catching up, it’s too crowded down there. Get up here!

You make your way up the stairs. Who do they mean by “all.” You thought this would be a small gathering. You’re now regretting coming here. Do you really need to see these people? You weren’t even that close with any in college aside from a couple people and they aren’t here this weekend. This will just be awkward. You don’t do well in these situations.

At the top of the stairs you look around and spot your friends lounging on a couple couches. Keen to avoid an intimate encounter or give away that you don’t know who you’ve been texting you give a not so enthusiastic, “hey guys” without looking anyone in the eyes followed by a lousy wave.

“Hey!!!” “You made it!” “What’s up bitch!” “Nice jacket”

You spend the next half hour catching up with old friends. Old drinking friends really, the type you only spent time with when you went out in college. You had nothing to talk about with them when you were sober then and you certainly don’t now.

“Hey! How are you?”

“Good, it’s so weird being back.”

“I know right? I feel so old.”

“Haha.”

“So how’s your job? You still at the same place?”

“Yep, same place. It’s good, pays the bills.”

“Haha yeah…”

The two of you stand awkwardly exchanging soft smiles while you wait for the other to check their phone first. A piercing scream cuts through the deafening silence. Thank fuck, you were about to resort to commenting on the weather. The screaming is getting closer. You look down the hallway and see a girl running towards you. She’s covered in blood. Is it her blood? It’s hard to tell.

“BOBBY’S DEAD!!! STABBED!! EMOJI FACE!! AAAAAHHHHHH!” she screams.

Emoji? What the hell is she talking about? She sees you guys. She sees you first and is running right towards you. She grabs your arms, getting blood on your jacket in the process. C’mon! 

“HE’S DEAD!!! STABBED!! THEY TRIED TO KILL ME TOO!! HELP, PLEASE HELP!!!” she pleads to you. She’s trembling uncontrollably. You don’t care about your jacket anymore, now you’re scared.

You want to help. This girl is begging you, you can’t just leave her. She’s been stabbed and needs your help. Be a hero! Yet, if what she is saying is true there is a murderer up here and the thought of that makes you want to get out of here as fast as you can. You could jump out of the nearest window. You did it once after a brother caught you stealing Patagonias from the bedrooms on this floor so you’re confident you’ll survive the fall. Fight or flight, what will it be?

A) Help the bloody girl.

B) Jump out a window.

Why would you head to the basement? Have you never watched a horror movie? You’re dead.

Try again?
Credits

Why would you head to the basement? Have you never watched a horror movie? You’re dead.

Try again?
Credits

You tell yourself to breathe – to calm down and think. You’ve seen enough horror movies, you know what not to do. Rule one: never go alone. You pull a couple friends along to come with you to check out the floor. You saw the girl running down from the hallway, but you don’t know which room she was in. There is a trail of blood leading down the hall and into a room on the left. Must be this room. Wow, you’re a real sleuth. You gingerly approach the room. With your friends close behind, you kick open the door. Best to come in hot, but you’re stopped dead in your tracks. There he is. Bobby, or so you assume, is laying in a heap on the bed. His body is covered in blood. Where does the blood end and Bobby begin? Movies never prepared you for the reality of this scene. You freeze, as do your friends. You can practically hear the crowd shouting at you. Move! Run you stupid bitch! Why can’t you move? You should run, or grab a weapon, but you’re petrified by the pure and sickening shock of Bobby’s bloody body before you. THEY’RE BEHIND YOU! Fuck, they’re behind you. You can feel a fourth presence at your back. You turn your head, in between your friends’ faces is a third. It’s yellow and shiny with uneven eyes. it’s not a real face…it’s a mask! An emoji mask! 🤪 The emoji slices your friends’ throats with swift slashes from the blades they carry in each hand.

“No! Please no!! Don’t kill me please.” You plead, but you know fully well this is no emoji of reason. This is the zany emoji, the crazy eyes emoji, the Grinning Face With One Large and One Small Eye emoji. It does not know the meaning of reason. This cannot be the last face you see before you die. Except, it is.

The emoji has no final words for you. The zany stare of those crazy eyes say it all. Lifting their hands overhead, the slasher brings their blades down on to your collar bones in one precise motion. They bring their masked face close to yours, remove the blades and leave you to bleed to death beside your two friends.  

 

One more shot?
Credits

“Ok, ok slow down what happened?” you ask the girl. She’s on the floor now crying into her knees. She’s in shock and unable to respond. You could call the cops. Tell them someone has been killed at the DK house. Although, you don’t actually know if that’s true yet. Imagine, as an alum, calling the cops into a DK party for a false alarm. You’d never be welcomed back. You’d be a narc for life. Maybe you should just investigate the situation on your own. Ok, definitely not on your own, but with a friend or two.

A) Call the cops.

B) Investigate the situation with a couple friends.

Why would you head to the basement? Have you never watched a horror movie? You’re dead.

Try again?
Credits

You bolt! You find the nearest window, open it, squirm through and jump. On your way out your foot gets caught on the window sill. You’re falling head first now and you realize you’ve made a grave mistake. The window you jumped out of last time was at the front of the house. This one is in the back where the ground below is lower, allowing the basement to open out to the backyard. You’ve just jumped from three floors, not two, and this time you won’t even land on your feet.

SPLAT! If you hadn’t close your eyes you would’ve seen it coming. Though it’s not like you could’ve prevented it. You are impaled, head first by a horseshoe stake in the ground. It’s a dead ringer. All the Patagonias on frat row wouldn’t have softened this fall. Karma is a bitch.

You can keep trying!
Credits

You take out your phone and dial 911. An operator picks up.

“Hello, what’s your emergency?”

“Hi, umm there’s been a uhh murder…or at least we think there has. I – someone’s been stabbed, a girl. She’s bleedy – bleeding! She’s bleeding.” You’re fumbling over your words. To be be honest, you’re not really sure what the emergency is. Well, you know there’s a girl and she’s been stabbed, but how do you communicate the full extent of the situation to this operator. There should be some sort of code you can give in these scenarios. Like a 405 or something easy and succinct like that. Instead, you’re just blabbering to the operator. You hadn’t prepared what you were going to say before you called.

“Bobby dead – maybe…upstairs down the hall…uhh something about an emoji face.” Oh no, you start to think to yourself that you sound guilty. Stop sounding so guilty.

“Please, slow down. What is your address?” says the operator.

“13 Vincent Lane, in the upstairs.”

“Oh, the DK house?” Why the “oh”? Do they think this is prank call? 

“Yeah…I mean yes! Yeah the DK house.”

“We’re are send a unit there now.”

“Ok, great thanks. Have a good night.”

“Please stay on th-” but you’ve already hung up. Shit, you can’t call back now. You don’t want to. You’re relieved the call is over. Why was that so stressful for you?

“Nice,” chirps one of your friends. Screw them, why hadn’t the girl run to them? Why’d she have to choose you? You aren’t cut out for this kind of pressure. Doesn’t matter now, the call has been made and the police are on their way. For now, you decide to wait it out with your friends and the bloody girl. There’s safety in numbers.

Five minutes pass. There’s commotion downstairs, a spontaneous clamor.  

“COPS!!!” yells someone from below. “Hide the drugs!” yells another. “Just plain hide!” yells yet another. The stairs begin to rumble. A hoard of students are running up the stairs. They run right past you, your friends and the bloody girl still sobbing on the floor and scatter into each and every room on the floor. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck. This isn’t good. You did not think this one through. You’ve just called the cops to a house full of shitfaced, mostly underage, students. In doing so, you’ve inadvertently sent a few to their deaths in one of these rooms.

This is all too much. You can’t help these kids, you never could. The bloody girl choose the wrong person. All you can do know is save yourself. You go downstairs, leaving your friends behind, and are greeted by a few cops and several kids being held in custody. The cops briefly question you, but let you go once you tell them you are an alum. It’s a flow blown blizzard outside now. The wind is howling and the snow is swirling in every direction except down. The ground isn’t blanketed yet, but it will be soon. You want to go back into the house, but you can’t go back in there now – there’s no way. Your only real option is to head back to your room so that’s what you do, but you don’t make it.

You freeze to death on the long walk back. You are never found in the morning. In fact, you aren’t found for months and are quickly forgotten. Beginning with tonight’s storm an exceptionally long and cold winter befalls the campus. Snow covers every inch of earth well into April. Finally, in the closing weeks of the spring semester, your body is discovered by a tour group. You are perfectly preserved.

“Nice jacket,” says a mom in the tour.

Give it another go?
Credit