My heart pounded as I ran through the darkening woods, desperately searching for my friends. How had I gotten so turned around? The trees all looked the same in the fading light.
"Ben? Erica! Anybody!" I screamed, my voice echoing in the eerie silence.
That's when I saw it - the bus. Our only means of escape was pulling away, leaving me behind. A wave of panic washed over me. I was officially more afraid than I'd ever been in my life.
Movement caught my eye. Derek. My brother. But not the Derek I knew. This Derek had a bloody ax gripped in his hand, his eyes wild as he stalked towards me with predatory intent.
"Derek, what are you doing?" I called out, my voice shaking. "It's me!"
He didn't respond, just kept coming. I turned and ran, my feet pounding against the dirt path. The mess hall loomed ahead - shelter, at least for a moment.
I burst through the doors, frantically scanning the room for anything I could use to defend myself. My eyes landed on the old radio sitting on a shelf. Without thinking, I lunged for it and hit play. The opening chords of "Carry On Wayward Son" filled the air, an oddly fitting soundtrack to my nightmare.
"Think, think," I muttered to myself, trying to formulate a plan. My gaze fell on the kitchen area. Knives. I yanked open a drawer, grabbing the largest one I could find.
The sound of splintering wood made me jump. Derek was breaking through the door. I ducked into the storage closet, pressing myself against the wall and trying to control my ragged breathing.
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!
The ax tore through the door, sending splinters flying. I gripped the knife tighter, my palms slick with sweat.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Derek's voice sing-songed, a chilling parody of our childhood games.
I inched towards the door, knife raised. The music faded out, leaving an oppressive silence. Perfect timing. Not.
"Derek," I called out, my voice barely above a whisper. "Please, snap out of it. This isn't you."
He whirled around, his eyes locking onto mine. For a split second, I saw a flicker of recognition. Then it was gone, replaced by that terrifying blankness.
"No!" I screamed, lunging forward and plunging the knife into his chest.
Derek roared in pain and fury. The ax swung, catching me across the face. I flew backwards, crashing into the shelves.
Stars exploded behind my eyes as I hit the floor. Derek loomed over me, yanking the knife from his chest with a sickening squelch. His hand closed around my throat, squeezing.
"Derek," I gasped, clawing at his fingers. "Stop... please..."
He lifted me off the ground, slamming me against the shelves. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision as I struggled for air.
My hand brushed against something. A sack. With the last of my strength, I grabbed it and shoved it over Derek's head.
He stumbled back, momentarily disoriented. I wrapped the sack tighter, trying to incapacitate him. But Derek was too strong. He threw me off, sending me sprawling across the floor.
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