I was jerked awake by my tent, which was moving around me.
My breath hovered in front of my mouth, which was numb from the
threatening cold.
Mike was already out, racing across the ground with pretty much nothing on,
clutching a video camera to his face.
A scream echoed in the dark night and I stood shakily up in the mess of
sleeping-bags pillows and clothes that littered our tent.
And I ran.
Mike was about 25 feet in front of me, running as fast as he could yet I
could not see him because I was blinded by my own fear.
Out of nowhere a big abandoned house loomed in front of me, The door,
gaping like an ominous black mouth.
I ran into the rotting building, the smell of decay and cedar suddenly
filling my nostrils.
My foot scraped across something, a piece of glass and a sharp pain shot up
my leg.
My mind was racing; everything was going too fast for me to think.
I came to the bottom of a staircase.
Along the walls were the smudged, bloody handprints of the children that
were murdered here many years ago.
On the floor above me I could hear Mike screaming "JOSH, WHERE ARE YOU" and
then Josh's murderous cries, coming from not one direction, but from all
around me.
Suddenly Mike's cries were below me and I turned and ran down the staircase
to the basement.
Bricks and planks of rotting wood carpeted the ground.
Then the cries stopped as I turned around.
Mike stood in the corner, arms to his sides, head cocked at an almost
painful angle, motionless.
Everything went black and I fell into a pool of darkness.
