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Wow. This site now makes me want to leave and never come back

Because it's the truth?!? Wow Stop deleting my BLOGS ! now I feel more invested calling it out.

like survivor so your not always stuck playing with the game folks that premade instead of just trying to be social and make new friends

Chapter 4: Run or Stay 💄 For a few seconds after Weston died— No one moved. No one spoke. It was like the entire clearing had frozen around him. Then everything broke at once. “WE HAVE TO GO!” Leighanna screamed. “Get up—get UP—” Octavious was already moving, grabbing Weston’s shoulder like there was still something he could do, like refusing to accept what was right in front of him. Grace-Lynn felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her ears rang. Her hands shook. Her vision tunneled in and out. Cashmere grabbed her arm. “Grace—Grace—look at me!” Grace-Lynn blinked hard, forcing herself back into the moment. “He’s dead,” she said, voice flat and wrong. That made it real. Theodore let out a broken sound, stumbling backward into one of the folding chairs and knocking it over. “No—no—no—this is—this is not—this is not happening—” “STOP!” Octavious snapped. Everyone froze again. His voice had changed. Not calm anymore. Controlled panic. “We don’t split up,” he said, breathing hard. “Nobody runs. We move together.” Too late. Regan and Luther were already gone into the woods. “Regan!” Grace-Lynn shouted. No answer. Just the trees. Just the dark. ⸻ The fire suddenly felt too bright. Too exposed. Like a spotlight. “Kill the fire,” Cashmere said quickly. “What?” Theodore said. “Kill the fire—we’re visible—” Octavious didn’t argue. He kicked dirt into the flames, grabbed a nearby jug, and dumped water over it. Steam hissed up violently, swallowing the light. The clearing dropped into darkness almost instantly. Only the lanterns remained. And even those felt wrong now. Too small. Too weak. ⸻ “Where are the keys?” Grace-Lynn asked suddenly. Octavious’s head snapped up. “Cars.” They ran. Not into the woods. Toward the SUVs. Leighanna nearly slipped in the dirt, catching herself on the side of the car. Theodore fumbled with the door handle before yanking it open. Octavious jumped into the driver’s seat and twisted the key. Nothing. Again. Nothing. “Start!” he shouted at the engine like it could hear him. It didn’t. Grace-Lynn moved to the second SUV. “This one—try this one—” She yanked the door open. The inside light flickered. Then died. She climbed in anyway, hands shaking as she searched for the ignition. The keys were there. She turned it. Click. Nothing. Her stomach dropped. “Octavious,” she said, voice tight, “it’s not working.” “Keep trying!” She did. Again. Again. Nothing. Then she looked down. Wires. Hanging loose beneath the steering column. Cut clean. Deliberate. “Oh my God,” she whispered. She stumbled out of the car. “They’re cut. Both of them. He cut them.” That hit harder than anything so far. Because it meant— This wasn’t random. This wasn’t someone passing through. This was planned. ⸻ A branch snapped behind them. Everyone spun. The lantern light barely reached the trees. But something had moved. “I saw that,” Theodore whispered. “So did I,” Leighanna said. “Get away from the tree line,” Octavious ordered. They backed toward the center of the clearing instinctively, forming a loose circle without even meaning to. Grace-Lynn’s heart was pounding so hard it hurt. “He’s out there,” she said. “I know,” Octavious replied. “Where are Regan and Luther?” Cashmere asked. No one answered. ⸻ Then— A voice. “Hello?” It came from the woods. Soft. Uncertain. Relieved. Regan. “Guys? Where’d you go?” Leighanna took a step forward immediately. “Regan—!” Octavious grabbed her arm. “WAIT.” The voice came again. Closer. “I lost him—I don’t see him anymore—hello?!” Theodore looked like he was about to cry. “That’s him—that’s literally him—” Grace-Lynn’s entire body went cold. The man’s warning. If you hear someone calling your name from the woods… don’t answer. “Don’t,” she said. Leighanna looked at her like she was insane. “That’s Regan!” “No,” Grace-Lynn said. “We don’t know that.” “Grace—” “Listen to me!” The voice shifted. “Leighanna?” It was perfect. Exactly right. Tone. Pitch. Panic. Leighanna’s face broke. “That’s him—he’s hurt—” Octavious tightened his grip on her arm. “He’s trying to pull us out there.” The voice came again. This time— Behind them. “Octavious?” Everyone turned instantly. But there was nothing there. Just empty dark. Theodore let out a strangled sound. “No—no—no—” Now the voice came from the left. “Grace-Lynn?” Then the right. “Cashmere?” Then— All at once— From everywhere. Calling. Whispering. Repeating their names. Perfectly. Not distorted. Not wrong. Too right. Grace-Lynn covered her ears. “He recorded us—he recorded us earlier—” Cashmere shook their head slowly. “No… that’s not just recordings…” The voices overlapped. Layered. Moving. Surrounding them. Like the woods themselves were speaking. ⸻ Then— A lantern shattered. Glass exploded beside Theodore’s feet. He screamed and stumbled backward. “RUN!” Regan’s voice shouted from somewhere in the trees. That broke them. They scattered. Not far. But enough. Leighanna ran toward the tents. Theodore bolted toward the cars. Cashmere grabbed Grace-Lynn and pulled her the opposite direction. Octavious turned in a full circle, trying to track everything at once. “STAY TOGETHER!” he shouted. No one listened. ⸻ Grace-Lynn’s foot caught on something. She went down hard. The ground disappeared beneath her for half a second— Then snapped tight around her ankle. A wire trap. She screamed. Pain shot up her leg as she dangled awkwardly, half-lifted, half-twisted, the snare pulling tight. “Grace!” Cashmere dropped beside her, hands already working the wire. “Hold still—hold still—” “I can’t—!” The wire cut into her skin as she struggled. “Stop moving,” Cashmere said sharply. “You’re making it worse.” Grace-Lynn forced herself still, biting down hard on a scream. Cashmere worked fast, fingers shaking but precise. From the woods— Movement again. Closer now. Grace-Lynn saw it. A silhouette. Watching. Not rushing. Not panicking. Just… observing. “He’s right there,” she whispered. Cashmere didn’t look up. “I know.” The wire snapped loose. Grace-Lynn dropped hard to the ground. “Go,” Cashmere said, pulling her up. They ran. ⸻ Back near the firepit, Octavious had regrouped Theodore and Leighanna. “Where are they?!” Leighanna cried. “Here!” Grace-Lynn shouted as they stumbled back into the clearing. For one brief second— All five of them were together again. Breathing hard. Shaking. Covered in dirt and fear. No voices now. No movement. Just silence. Heavy. Wrong. ⸻ Octavious looked around slowly. “He’s not rushing us,” he said. Grace-Lynn swallowed. “He doesn’t need to.” Cashmere nodded, eyes scanning the trees. “He’s playing with us.” Theodore shook his head violently. “No—we’re not staying—we’re not staying—we have to go—we have to go now—” “Go where?” Leighanna snapped. “The cars don’t work—there’s no signal—he’s in the woods—WHERE DO WE GO?!” No one had an answer. Because that was the truth. They were stuck. And for the first time— They all understood it. ⸻ A slow creak came from behind them. Everyone turned. The front door of Morrow House… was open. Just slightly. Enough to see darkness inside. Enough to know— It hadn’t been open before. Grace-Lynn felt her stomach twist. “No,” she said immediately. Octavious stared at the doorway. “He wants us in there.” Cashmere exhaled slowly. “Or he wants us out here.” The wind shifted. The trees whispered. And somewhere, far too close— Something moved again. ⸻ No one said it out loud. But they were all thinking the same thing. Out here— they were exposed. In there— they were trapped. And the killer had already decided— they weren’t leaving tonight. Cast Members : MarieEve Grace-Lynn She/Her Cinnamon Octavious: He/Him YanderTron21 Weston: He/Him 🔪❌ Rain Regan: He/Him RobbieRIOT Leighanna: She/Her hwest14 Theodore: He/Him Envious Luther: He/Him Justini Cashmere: She/They

Vote Tally: IronMuffin: 6 TrueBlood: 4 7th person voted out of Outcasted... IronMuffin

Should've been on the Zeus network. More Like KoBaddies 😂

Malibu STAN

In Royale I will personally by them anything in the shops You have 10 minutes

arrascaeta

Corey1

Discord: spookycreamz22 ADD ME

Want a gift ? Comment or tag below and I'll choose one to gift.

All these coins and nothing I want in the shops LOL Where are the dresses and the high fashion outfits LOL The hair that fits my avatar would be nice 😂

Chapter 3: No More Jokes No one spoke for a second after the man said it. The fire cracked loudly between them, like it was the only thing brave enough to make noise. Weston was the first to recover—of course he was. He let out a small laugh, raising his drink like this was all part of the atmosphere. “Okay… I mean, that’s a strong opening line.” The man didn’t smile. “You need to leave,” he repeated. Up close, he looked worse than Grace-Lynn expected. Not just older—worn down. Like he hadn’t slept right in years. His eyes didn’t move much when he looked at them. They stayed fixed, scanning, like he was checking if something was missing. Or if something extra was there. Octavious stepped forward slightly, calm but firm. “Sir, we’re just camping for the night. We’ll be out in the morning.” The man shook his head once. “That’s what they all say.” That made the air shift again. Leighanna crossed her arms. “Who is ‘they’?” The man ignored her. His gaze drifted past them—to the tents, the cars… then slowly to the lodge. His jaw tightened. “You see anything in that house?” he asked. No one answered right away. Grace-Lynn felt Cashmere glance at her. Weston scoffed. “It’s boarded up. There’s nothing in there.” The man snapped his eyes back to him. “That’s not what I asked.” The tone shut Weston up. A beat passed. Then Cashmere spoke quietly. “We thought we saw something in the upstairs window.” The man went still. Completely still. For a second, even the fire felt quieter. Then he let out a slow breath through his nose. “You hear anything yet?” Theodore forced a laugh. “What, like ghosts?” The man looked at him. “No,” he said. “Like people who aren’t there.” That landed. Hard. Regan shook his head. “Okay, this is getting weird.” “It’s supposed to be weird,” Weston said quickly, trying to regain control. “It’s Halloween. This is like—peak experience right now.” The man stepped closer to the edge of the firelight. “Listen to me,” he said, voice lower now. “If you hear someone calling your name from the woods tonight—don’t answer.” Grace-Lynn felt her stomach drop. “Doesn’t matter if it sounds like your friend,” the man continued. “Doesn’t matter if it sounds hurt. You hear it—ignore it.” Octavious frowned. “Why?” The man hesitated. For the first time, something like fear crossed his face. “Because it won’t be them.” Silence. Nobody had a joke for that. The man looked at each of them one more time, like he was trying to memorize their faces. “Pack up,” he said. “Leave now while you still can.” Then he turned, got back in his truck, and drove off into the dark. The headlights disappeared faster than they should have. Like the woods swallowed them. ⸻ For a few seconds, nobody moved. Then— “Okay,” Weston said, clapping his hands once. “That was… a lot.” “Weston,” Leighanna snapped. “No, seriously—think about it. That’s exactly what locals do. They scare people off. It’s like a tradition.” “That didn’t feel like a tradition,” Cashmere said. “That felt like a warning,” Grace-Lynn added. Regan exhaled hard. “So what, we just leave?” No one answered immediately. Because no one wanted to be the one to say yes. Octavious looked around at the group. At the fire. At the gear they had just set up. “We stay,” he said finally. “But nobody wanders off. Nobody goes near that house. And we keep eyes on each other.” That felt like a compromise. A bad one. But enough. Weston seized on it instantly. “Exactly. Thank you. We’re fine.” Theodore raised his drink again, weaker this time. “To not answering creepy voices.” A few of them half-heartedly echoed it. The mood never fully recovered. They tried. Music came back on, but quieter. The jokes returned, but thinner. The laughter didn’t last as long. The woods felt closer now. Like they had leaned in. ⸻ About twenty minutes later, they started another round of drinks. That’s when Weston got an idea. Which was always dangerous. “Alright,” he said, standing up suddenly. “Game time.” “No,” Grace-Lynn said immediately. “Yes,” Weston said. “It’ll loosen everyone up.” “We don’t need to be loosened up.” “We absolutely do. Everyone’s acting like we’re about to die.” “That’s because—” “Relax,” Weston cut her off. “Trust me.” Grace-Lynn didn’t trust him. No one really did. But they played anyway. Because that’s what people do when they’re uncomfortable. They distract themselves. ⸻ Weston grabbed a notebook from one of the bags and tore out pages. “Secrets and fears,” he announced. “Everyone writes one of each. We mix them up. If your name gets pulled, you either reveal the secret or face the fear.” “That sounds like a terrible idea,” Leighanna said. “That sounds like content,” Theodore added. Cashmere tilted their head. “What kind of fears?” Weston grinned. “We’ll find out.” That should’ve been the second warning. ⸻ They wrote. Folded the papers. Dropped them into two separate cups. The fire burned lower. The woods got darker. The game started. At first, it was harmless. Theodore admitted he once lied about being allergic to avoid a date. Regan revealed he had a fear of deep water. Leighanna refused to answer one and took a dare instead. They laughed again. It almost worked. Then Weston reached into the secrets cup. He unfolded a paper. Frowned. “Okay… which one of you wrote this?” “What?” Octavious asked. Weston held it up. “It says… ‘One of us wasn’t invited.’” The laughter died instantly. “That’s not funny,” Leighanna said. “I didn’t write it,” Weston said. “Neither did I,” Regan added quickly. One by one, they all shook their heads. Grace-Lynn stood up slowly. “That’s not from us.” The paper looked different. Cleaner. Thicker. Not from the same notebook. Cashmere reached out. “Let me see.” They turned it over. No handwriting they recognized. No tears from the page. Just a message. Simple. Cold. Real. Then— A soft buzz came from behind them. Everyone turned. Grace-Lynn’s duffel bag. She frowned. “My phone’s dead.” The buzzing came again. Slow. Deliberate. Octavious moved first. “Don’t touch it.” Too late. Weston had already unzipped the bag. Inside was a phone. Not Grace-Lynn’s. Old. Black. Cracked screen. The notification lit up. Weston stared. “Okay…” he said slowly. “This is messed up.” “What is it?” Grace-Lynn asked. He turned the screen toward them. A photo. All eight of them around the fire. Taken from behind the tree line. Close enough to see their faces clearly. Close enough to know— Whoever took it was still nearby. Below the image was a message. LET’S PLAY FOR REAL. No one moved. No one breathed. Then— A faint sound came from the woods. Not loud. Not rushed. A single step. Grace-Lynn’s voice came out in a whisper. “We need to leave.” Octavious nodded immediately. “Now.” But Weston— Weston stepped forward instead. “HEY!” he shouted into the trees. “REAL FUNNY! COME OUT!” “Weston—” Grace-Lynn started. Too late. A sharp WHISTLE cut through the air. No one even saw it coming. The arrow punched through Weston’s chest with a sickening force, driving him backward. For a split second, he just stood there. Confused. Looking down at the black shaft buried beneath his collarbone. Then the blood came. Fast. Too fast. Leighanna screamed. Theodore dropped his drink. Regan staggered backward. Cashmere froze. Grace-Lynn felt her entire body go cold. Weston hit the ground hard. Choking. Gasping. Hands clawing at the arrow like he could pull it out and undo it. Octavious dropped beside him instantly, pressing down on the wound. “Stay with me—stay with me—” “There’s too much blood,” Grace-Lynn said, her voice shaking. “There’s too much—” From the trees— Movement. Fast. A figure slipping between shadows. Grace-Lynn saw just enough. Tall. All black. Face covered. Watching. “THERE!” she screamed. Regan took off toward it. Luther followed without thinking. “STOP!” Octavious shouted. They disappeared into the trees anyway. Theodore backed away, shaking. “No, no, no—this isn’t real—” Weston made a horrible wet sound. Then another. Then— Nothing. Octavious’s hands were covered in blood. Weston’s body went still. The fire crackled beside them like nothing had changed. But everything had. The game was over. The night had just begun. And now— they knew they weren’t alone. Cast Members : MarieEve Grace-Lynn She/Her Cinnamon Octavious: He/Him YanderTron21 Weston: He/Him 🔪❌ Rain Regan: He/Him RobbieRIOT Leighanna: She/Her hwest14 Theodore: He/Him Envious Luther: He/Him Justini Cashmere: She/They Chapter 4 tomorrow :) Hope you all enjoyed the first death ! :)

“The Party Begins” 🫥 The last of the daylight bled out faster than any of them expected. One minute the clearing was washed in cool gray-blue dusk, and the next it felt like the woods had pulled a curtain around them. That changed the mood. Not completely. Not enough to ruin the fun. But enough that everyone seemed to move a little quicker. Lanterns were hung from low branches around the campsite. Theodore and Regan argued over the best place to set the speaker while Weston kept insisting he had a “vision” for the bonfire layout that nobody else could understand. Octavious, as expected, ignored the nonsense and got the actual work done, stacking wood, checking the camp stove, setting out emergency lights, and making sure everybody knew where the first-aid kit was. Grace-Lynn noticed all of it while pretending she wasn’t noticing much at all. She sat on a cooler for a moment, watching the others work in the growing dark, and felt that strange shift again — that tiny pressure in the chest that comes when a place doesn’t feel fully empty, even when it should. Leighanna dropped a folded blanket beside her. “You’re doing that thing.” Grace-Lynn glanced up. “What thing?” “The thing where you act calm when you’re creeped out.” “I’m not creeped out.” Leighanna gave her a look. “You touched the ash like you were in a crime documentary.” Grace-Lynn snorted. “It was weird ash.” “That is not helping your case.” For the first time since they arrived, they both laughed without forcing it. Nearby, Cashmere was helping Theodore string a few battery-powered orange lights around one side of the clearing. Their rings flashed whenever they reached up, tiny glints of silver catching firelight from the lanterns. Theodore was talking, of course, because silence seemed physically impossible for him. “I’m just saying,” he said, holding up one end of the lights, “if I die looking ugly, I’ll haunt every single one of you.” “You say that like haunting us would be inconvenient for you,” Cashmere replied. “It would be inconvenient emotionally.” “No,” Cashmere said. “You’d thrive.” Theodore placed a hand to his chest. “You know me so well.” Not far from them, Regan and Weston had moved on from “setting up” to wrestling over the speaker playlist. “Take that one off,” Regan said. “It’s Halloween.” “It’s terrible.” “It’s iconic.” “It sounds like a haunted carnival threw up.” Weston gasped like he’d been slapped. “How dare you.” Octavious passed behind them carrying firewood. “Play whatever you want as long as it’s not so loud none of us can hear if someone’s coming.” The words landed heavier than he probably meant them to. Weston looked over. “You are really committed to making this feel like a murder weekend.” “You picked an abandoned lodge in the middle of nowhere,” Octavious said. “I’m adjusting accordingly.” Luther came in from the edge of the clearing with an armful of branches for kindling. His dark clothes had faded almost completely into the tree line before he stepped back into the lantern light. Grace-Lynn noticed dirt on his hands. “You went off by yourself?” she asked. Luther shrugged. “Not far.” Octavious immediately looked up. “Don’t do that.” “It was thirty feet.” “I don’t care if it was ten.” Luther dropped the branches by the firepit. “You’re not my dad.” “No,” Theodore called out, “but spiritually he is all of ours.” That got enough laughter to break the tension. Eventually the bonfire caught. It started small — low flames curling around dry wood, sparks skipping up into the dark — but within minutes it was a full blaze, bright enough to push the shadows back from the center of camp. Orange light danced across everyone’s faces, making them look different. Sharper. Wilder. Like the fire itself had turned them into a temporary version of themselves. Music started up. Drinks were opened. The first real wave of excitement came back. This was what they had come for. The camping trip. The party. The freedom of being somewhere no one could interrupt them. For a while, they let themselves have it. Weston passed out drinks like a host at some unhinged private event. Regan took over grilling despite having no idea what he was doing. Theodore nearly dropped the bag of marshmallows into the fire and blamed the wind. Grace-Lynn and Leighanna sat in folding chairs with their legs stretched toward the heat, talking quietly about nothing and everything. Cashmere moved easily between conversations, laughing here, listening there, seeming more relaxed than before. Luther lingered near the edge of the group, not separate exactly, but never fully at the center. Octavious stayed closest to the camp setup, checking things almost absently, as if some part of him refused to stop being prepared. At one point, Grace-Lynn looked around the fire and thought, This is the version I want to remember. That thought unsettled her enough to make her look away. Later, when the food was eaten and the fire had settled into a stronger steady burn, costumes came out. That changed the energy all over again. Suddenly it was louder, sillier, brighter. Grace-Lynn disappeared into her tent with Leighanna and came out ten minutes later transformed — sleek black and red, fitted devil costume, dark makeup, sharp liner, silver hoop earrings catching in the light. She looked less like someone going to a Halloween party and more like she had arrived to ruin one. Weston whistled. “Okay, wow.” “Relax,” Grace-Lynn said. Leighanna stepped out behind her wearing a black-and-gold look with feathered details and dark lipstick, elegant enough to make the whole campsite look cheap by comparison. Theodore clutched his chest. “Why are y’all serving end-of-my-life visuals in the woods?” “Because some of us commit to a theme,” Leighanna said. Cashmere emerged next in layered black lace, silver jewelry, smoky eyes, and a look that managed to be both soft and untouchable at once. They smiled when they saw everyone staring. “What?” “Nothing,” Grace-Lynn said. “You just look insane.” “In a good way?” “In a way that would get people written out of a movie.” Cashmere laughed. The guys’ costumes were less impressive but equally committed in their own chaotic ways. Weston had gone full fake vampire — dark shirt, dramatic cape, fake blood at the corners of his mouth. Regan wore a blood-splattered athlete look that mostly just looked like Regan after a very bad party. Theodore had somehow found a priest costume and was far too excited about it. Octavious wore all black with a long coat and gloves, simple enough to be cool without trying. Luther just wore black jeans and a fitted dark shirt with a small skull pendant and let everybody else decide if that counted. “You didn’t even try,” Regan told him. Luther took a drink. “This is my costume.” “For what?” “Bad decisions.” Theodore pointed at him dramatically. “See? That right there. That’s why people think you’re mysterious.” Luther deadpanned, “I’m not mysterious. I’m tired.” That made even Octavious laugh. By the time the costumes were fully on and the second round of drinks had started, the campsite almost felt magical. The orange lights glowed softly in the trees. The fire cracked and popped. Music drifted through the clearing. The lodge stood dark behind them like a backdrop nobody wanted to acknowledge too much. Weston, naturally, wanted photos. “Oh no,” Grace-Lynn said immediately. “Oh yes,” Weston said. “We did not come all the way out here looking this good just to not document it.” He herded them together by the bonfire before anyone could protest too much. It took forever. Regan kept making faces. Theodore kept changing poses. Leighanna wanted better lighting. Cashmere said candids were better. Octavious just wanted it over with. Luther looked like he was attending a funeral against his will. Eventually Weston set his phone up on a cooler and ran into place. The timer flashed. Eight friends crowded together in front of the fire. Grace-Lynn in the center, Weston half-leaning into frame, Theodore grinning too wide, Regan throwing one arm around Octavious, Leighanna angled perfectly toward the light, Cashmere smiling just enough, Luther standing at the edge with that unreadable expression. The camera clicked. Then clicked again. Then one more time. Weston ran to grab the phone. “Okay wait — these are actually sick.” He scrolled, laughing. Theodore immediately leaned in to judge. Regan demanded veto rights. Leighanna said she wanted them all. Cashmere asked him to send the one where nobody looked staged. Grace-Lynn stepped back from the crowd for a second, smiling despite herself. That was when she heard it. A sound from the woods. Not an animal. Not wind. A single sharp crack, like a branch snapping under careful weight. She turned so fast her neck hurt. Nothing there. Just dark trees. Black space between trunks. The faint edge of lantern light hitting leaves. “Grace?” It was Octavious. She looked back. He had noticed her expression. “You hear that?” she asked quietly. Everybody else was still talking over one another around the phone. Octavious listened. For a second, the only sounds were the fire and the speaker. Then— A faint scraping noise. From the direction of the lodge. Both of them turned. The upstairs window looked black and empty. But one of the boards covering it was moving. Slowly. Not swinging in the wind. Lifting. Then settling back into place. Grace-Lynn felt every hair on her arms rise. “Tell me you saw that,” she whispered. Octavious did not answer right away. That told her enough. Weston noticed them looking and turned. “What?” Grace-Lynn almost said, someone’s in there. But she didn’t. Because the second everybody looked up, the window was still. The board unmoving. The glass dark. Regan frowned. “What am I looking at?” “Nothing,” Octavious said too quickly. Grace-Lynn shot him a look. He gave a slight shake of his head — not because he didn’t believe her, but because he clearly did not want the whole group spiraling yet. Weston shrugged. “Haunted house vibes. Love it.” Theodore lifted his drink toward the lodge. “If there’s a demon in there, they’re welcome to join us if they bring better alcohol.” Leighanna did not laugh. Cashmere looked from the lodge to Grace-Lynn and back again. “You saw something.” Grace-Lynn hesitated. “Maybe.” “That means yes,” Leighanna said. Luther had gone still, staring at the second floor now with a look Grace-Lynn couldn’t read. “You know this place?” she asked him. He took too long to answer. “My uncle talked about it once,” he said finally. “Said people around here avoid it.” “That is not enough information,” Theodore said. Luther looked at the fire instead of at any of them. “There was some story. A party, years back. Kids disappeared. Small-town urban legend stuff.” Weston let out a breath. “See? Legendary.” “No,” Leighanna said sharply. “Not legendary. Weird.” That shifted the mood more than anyone wanted. The laughter thinned. The music suddenly felt too loud. Even the fire seemed to crack differently. Cashmere crossed their arms. “I’m not saying we should leave, but I am saying I don’t like that house.” “Then we ignore the house,” Weston said, trying to recover the fun. “We stay here. Bonfire, drinks, costumes, no creepy lodge talk.” Grace-Lynn looked at him. “You picked the creepy lodge.” “And now I’m choosing emotional growth.” Theodore burst out laughing, and somehow that helped. A little. Enough that they sat back down. Enough that the conversation restarted. Enough that for ten more minutes it almost felt okay again. Then headlights appeared through the trees. Every voice stopped. The music kept playing for two more seconds before Regan lunged and turned it off. The clearing fell silent except for the crunch of tires over dirt and dead leaves. An old pickup truck rolled slowly into view from the narrow access road. Not fast. Not lost. Purposeful. It stopped just beyond the outer edge of the lantern light. Nobody moved. The driver’s side door opened, and an older man stepped out in a weather-worn hunting jacket and boots muddy to the ankle. He shut the door behind him and looked over the eight of them, then at the lodge, then back at the fire. His face had the kind of hard, tired expression people get when they’ve spent too many years seeing things they never wanted to believe. For a few long seconds, he said nothing. Then: “You kids need to leave.” And no one laughed. Cast Members : MarieEve Grace-Lynn She/Her Cinnamon Octavious: He/Him YanderTron21 Weston: He/Him Rain Regan: He/Him RobbieRIOT Leighanna: She/Her hwest14 Theodore: He/Him Envious Luther: He/Him Justini Cashmere: She/They Chapter 3 will be posted tonight after I get off work! You definitely don’t want to miss it 🔪🕷️🙈 I hope you all are enjoying this!

Which designer wants to take me as a client ? Can you make me look elegant

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Chapter 1: The Drive Into Black Hollow By the time the sun started sinking, all eight of them were already running late. That was how things usually went when the whole group got together. Someone forgot a charger. Someone packed too much. Someone needed snacks. Someone changed outfits three times. What was supposed to be a smooth afternoon drive to their Halloween camping party had turned into two overloaded SUVs, four coffee stops, one gas station argument over ice, and a group chat full of voice notes, threats, and blurry costume selfies. And somehow, that made it feel perfect. This was exactly why they had all said yes in the first place. It wasn’t really about camping. It wasn’t even really about the Halloween party. It was about one last wild memory before life kept dragging them in different directions. Grace-Lynn stood beside the open trunk of the first SUV in ripped black jeans and an oversized hoodie, holding two bags in one hand and glaring at the disaster inside the car like it had personally offended her. “Tell me why there are six bags of chips, three bottles of vodka, a fog machine, and no one can find the flashlight case.” “Because priorities matter,” Weston said. He leaned against the side of the car with that easy grin of his, all confidence and chaos. Weston was the kind of person who could make strangers laugh in under thirty seconds and make his own friends nervous in ten. He had been the loudest about this trip from the start, hyping it up for weeks, calling it legendary before it had even happened. He also had a habit of acting first and thinking never. Grace-Lynn narrowed her eyes at him. “If we die in the woods because you packed decorative fake cobwebs instead of batteries, I’m haunting you personally.” “You’d miss me too much.” “I really wouldn’t.” Behind them, Octavious was calmly reorganizing the back of the second SUV with the patience of a saint and the expression of someone trying very hard not to regret being friends with idiots. Octavious was the one people trusted without even realizing they did. He wasn’t loud, didn’t need attention, and never forced himself to the center of anything, but somehow when things needed to get handled, everybody ended up looking at him. He was practical, steady, and annoyingly good at staying levelheaded. He held up a plastic container. “I found the batteries. They were in the cooler.” There was a pause. Then Theodore pointed at Weston. “Jail.” Weston threw his hands up. “That was one time.” “That was today,” said Luther. Luther stood slightly apart from the group, holding a duffel over one shoulder. He wasn’t unfriendly—just quieter than the rest, the kind of person who watched more than he spoke. When he did say something, it usually landed harder because everybody knew he meant it. He had a dry humor that could sneak up on you and a look on his face that always made it seem like he knew something he hadn’t said yet. Theodore, on the other hand, never seemed to know when to stop talking. That was part of his charm. He bounced around the parking lot in a half-buttoned flannel and jeans, carrying two grocery bags and somehow making even that look theatrical. Theodore was dramatic in a way that never quite crossed into fake. Everything with him was louder, bigger, funnier. He could turn a gas station stop into a story and a bad situation into a bit, which was usually useful—until it wasn’t. He tossed one of the bags into the trunk. “I’d just like the record to show that I brought the marshmallows, the hot dogs, the matches, and the mini candy bars. So when y’all are warm and fed later, remember who loves you.” “No one asked for hot dogs,” Leighanna said. Leighanna shut the passenger door of the SUV and adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. She had the kind of presence that didn’t need to be loud to be felt. Smart eyes. Good posture. Controlled expression. Even when she was joking, there was usually a little distance to her, as if part of her stayed protected no matter who she was with. But tonight there was excitement under it too, hidden in the corners of her smile. “And yet,” Theodore said, placing a hand over his chest, “one day you’ll understand my vision.” Leighanna gave him a look. “Your vision is sodium and bad decisions.” “That is also Weston’s vision,” Regan added. Regan was leaning on the hood with his arms folded, laughing at everybody else while pretending he was above the chaos. He had that restless kind of energy that came from always needing something to do with his hands, his mouth, his attention. Quick with jokes, quick to challenge people, quick to act like he wasn’t bothered even when he absolutely was. He and Weston fed off each other in a way that could be hilarious or exhausting depending on the hour. Weston pointed at him. “You’re lucky I invited you.” “You invited yourself to your own plan and just dragged us into it.” “That is leadership.” “That is kidnapping with decorations.” Cashmere laughed from the far side of the car, where they were sitting on the edge of the trunk fixing a silver ring back onto one finger. Cashmere always looked put together in a way that seemed effortless until you paid attention and realized every detail was deliberate. The layered jewelry, the sharp eyeliner, the clothes that somehow felt both soft and untouchable. But it was their energy that people remembered most—warm one minute, distant the next, thoughtful in a way that made their silences feel full instead of empty. They looked up with a crooked smile. “Honestly, if this ends with all of us on a missing persons poster, I want everyone to know I almost stayed home.” That got a few laughs. Too many, maybe. Because for a second, the words hung there. Grace-Lynn noticed it first. That tiny weird pause after the joke. The subtle shift in the air. “Why almost?” she asked. Cashmere shrugged, but not casually enough. “Bad feeling.” Weston groaned. “No. Absolutely not. We are not starting creepy foreshadowing in the parking lot.” “I’m serious.” “Cashmere,” Theodore said, lowering his voice theatrically, “if you sensed doom and still came, that’s kind of on you.” Cashmere smirked. “That’s fair.” Octavious closed the trunk. “Everybody got their phones charged?” A chorus of mixed yeses followed. “Portable chargers?” More uncertain answers. He sighed. “Great. We’re all going to die because none of you prepare for anything.” “Again with the die talk,” Weston said. “Can we maybe manifest a sexy, memorable, iconic night instead?” “That usually is how people die,” Luther muttered. Even Grace-Lynn laughed at that. For a little while, it all felt normal. That was the worst part later—how normal it had felt. The drive started loud. Music up. Windows cracked. Weston and Regan arguing over the playlist. Theodore singing songs he didn’t know. Leighanna pretending to be annoyed. Cashmere recording bits and pieces on their phone. Octavious driving like he was transporting something fragile. Grace-Lynn in the passenger seat, half involved in the conversation and half watching the road ahead as the city gave way to empty stretches of highway. In the second SUV, Luther drove in silence for long stretches while Theodore filled them with commentary. Regan kept sending ridiculous voice notes to the group chat from the seat behind him. Leighanna occasionally reached over to turn the music down when it got unbearable. Cashmere sat by the window watching trees flash by in the dusk. At the first gas station stop, they all piled out into yellow light and cold air. Weston bought more beer. Theodore bought enough candy for a small army. Grace-Lynn bought energy drinks and ibuprofen. Leighanna came out with wet wipes, gum, and a look that said she didn’t trust any of them to survive without her. Octavious topped off both tanks and checked the tires. Regan flirted badly with the cashier. Luther stood outside under the buzzing sign, staring toward the dark tree line beyond the parking lot. Cashmere noticed. “What?” Luther looked back at them after a second. “Nothing.” But his expression said otherwise. Back on the road, the highways narrowed. The streetlights thinned out. Trees grew taller on both sides, black branches lacing together overhead. The group got quieter the deeper they drove. Not silent. Just softer. Like the woods were listening. Grace-Lynn watched headlights spill over an old wooden sign half-hidden by vines. BLACK HOLLOW – COUNTY ACCESS ROAD Something about the name made her sit up straighter. “You really picked a place called Black Hollow?” she asked. From the backseat, Weston grinned. “Tell me that doesn’t sound incredible.” “It sounds like where bodies are found.” “Exactly. Atmosphere.” Octavious kept his eyes on the road. “It also sounds like somewhere with no signal, so text whoever you need to text now.” That made everyone check their phones. One by one, little bars dropped. Regan groaned. “Fantastic.” Theodore leaned forward between the seats. “Okay but genuinely, if a masked killer comes out here, which one of us dies first?” “Weston,” Grace-Lynn said immediately. “Rude,” Weston replied. “You’d literally investigate a noise.” “You would too.” Grace-Lynn opened her mouth, then closed it. Everyone laughed. Leighanna looked out the window. “No, he’s right.” “What?” asked Octavious. She didn’t answer at first. Then she said, very quietly, “I just feel like once we get there, something’s going to feel off.” The joking died down after that. The road turned to cracked pavement, then gravel in places, then back again. The trees pressed closer. Their headlights caught old fencing, broken signs, and stretches of woods that looked too deep for the amount of land there should have been. Then they saw it. The old property sign. Tilted. Weather-rotted. Barely readable. MORROW HOUSE – PRIVATE LAND And beyond it, through the trees, the dark outline of the abandoned lodge. No one said anything for a few seconds. Even Weston. The place looked wrong before they even stepped out. The lodge sat at the edge of a clearing like it had been left there by mistake—two stories of sagging wood, black windows, and a porch leaning slightly to one side. The campsite nearby was open enough for the cars, tents, and bonfire setup Weston had promised, but the woods around it felt close. Too close. Like they had edged in over time. When the engines cut off, the silence rushed in. No city hum. No distant traffic. No neighborhood noise. Just wind. And somewhere far off, something metallic hitting something hollow. Clang. Grace-Lynn got out first and looked around. “The vibe is,” Theodore said from behind her, “deeply illegal.” “The vibe is amazing,” Weston said, though even he sounded less certain now. Octavious opened the back and started unloading gear. “Let’s set up before it gets fully dark.” Everybody moved then, slipping back into routine. Leighanna and Cashmere started sorting bags. Regan dragged out folding chairs and complained the whole time. Theodore carried lanterns and talked too much. Luther set down the tents with quiet efficiency. Weston kept trying to get everyone hyped back up. Grace-Lynn wandered a little farther toward the firepit. She stopped. There was ash inside. Fresh-looking ash. She crouched and touched the edge of one blackened piece of wood. Not warm. But not old either. Someone had used this pit recently. “Octavious,” she called. He came over. “What?” She pointed. He studied the ash, then the woods, then the house. “That wasn’t here by accident,” he said. Behind them, Cashmere had turned slowly toward the second floor of the lodge. “What is it?” Leighanna asked. Cashmere didn’t answer right away. Then they said, “I thought I saw someone in the window.” Everybody looked up. The upstairs window was dark. Empty. Weston forced out a laugh. “Okay. Great. Cool. Love that for us.” Regan grabbed a lantern. “Probably an animal.” “In a window?” Grace-Lynn asked. “An ambitious animal.” Nobody laughed that time. The sun slipped lower. The clearing darkened. And somewhere past the tree line, hidden where none of them could see, someone stood very still and watched the eight friends unload their costumes, their drinks, their blankets, their food, and all the little pieces of themselves they had brought into Black Hollow. Watching who led. Watching who wandered. Watching who stayed close. Watching who would be hardest to break. The figure raised a phone and took a photo. Eight friends. Still smiling. Still whole. Still unaware. Then the figure stepped backward into the trees and disappeared. Cast Members : MarieEve Grace-Lynn She/Her Cinnamon Octavious: He/Him YanderTron21 Weston: He/Him Rain Regan: He/Him RobbieRIOT Leighanna: She/Her hwest14 Theodore: He/Him Envious Luther: He/Him Justini Cashmere: She/They Chapter 2 will be posted either tonight or tomorrow ! I hope you all enjoy and good luck Survivors ☠️🔪