Bloody Snow

Hey! I'm REALLY happy i could get the new chapter out this fast. It took me 5 hours, 12 popsicles and a hell of an attention span :).

The first half of this chapter came to me SOOOO easily. The second half took me like, four times as long. It dragged on foorrrrevvvverrr!

Anyway, is anyone (besides the amazing reviewer James) out there? hellooo! I saw I got a decent amount of views, I expected more than one review :(... ANONYMOUS IS ON!

To the start of chapter 5- 3 victims die, and one of the Lewis sisters has a flashback, resembling one of the first scenes in "Juno" :)

Still Alive (I Hate Retyping This):

Adam

Andrea

Becca

Carmen

Campbell

Carrie

Claire

Corinne

Daniel

David

Devin

Diane

Drew

Graham

Greg

James

Jeff

Kaden

Katrina

Keith

Kenn

Kylie

Luke

Madison (Forgot her by accident last time. woops!)

Mason

Moe

Noelle

Rachal

Raymond

Roy

Shea

Trent

Wilson

Chapter 5- Cut Off

Claire sat in the corner next to Carrie, who was unsuccessfully trying to comfort her over the death of her husband.

"Why Tom… Why him! Why not you!" Claire said, spurting tears, gasping for air from hyperventilating.

"Claire, honey, it's okay, it'll be okay…" Carrie said, pulling her friend into an airtight hug.

Across the room, Mason was by the fireplace, trying to clean it up of Tom's blood from his stab wound, as well as cutting the rope with his pocket knife. "Damn, this is one thick rope," Mason whispered to himself, and he continued sawing. Eventually, the corpse of Tom collapsed into a bed of ash, creating a black cloud around Mason. He coughed loudly.

"What are we going to do?" Graham asked, clearly panicked, and freaked.

"What should we tell Kaden?" Carrie questioned.

"Calm down, people, calm down," Roy said, unusually calm. He stood up in front of the fireplace. "Grab some of the shotguns from the closet. Let's not let one of us be next," Roy continued, pointing to the weapons closet at the other end of the lobby. Mason, Carrie, Claire and Graham all grabbed a gun, while Moe and Roy picked theirs off the ground.

"Until later, I think everyone should go to their rooms," Moe suggested, and everyone went back to take naps, shower, and clean themselves up.

"CORINNE! DANIEL! SOMEONE! HELP ME!" the panicked Raymond shouted across the mid afternoon. At first he thought he had heard someone yell back- it had just been the echo of his own cries for help. "OFFICER! BLAIRE!" he continued screaming, hoping for someone, anyone, to answer his calls.

After about half an hour of senseless calls for assistance, Raymond suddenly felt winded, out of energy. He found an opening in the root of a large tree, and crawled under onto the damp soil. It was then that Raymond lye down, and took a nap.

"Trent, I'm telling you, we should go this way!" Noelle yelled, arguing with her older brother. The arguments cause was simple; he wanted to go left, she wanted to go right.

"Look, Noelle, I am pretty freaking sure that I heard something over this way!" Trent argued, and he was right. Except what he had heard was Raymond's distant shouts.

"How about this. You can go your way, the losers way," Noelle started, snickering. "And me and whoever else wants to can go my way, the cool way." Noelle finished, standing triumphantly. Until Wilson walked over to Trent. Noelle frowned.

"I'm with him," Wilson responded, confirming Noelle's thoughts.

"Adam, Andrea?" Noelle asked hopefully, glancing with puppy dog eyes at the indecisive young couple. They leaned together to whisper. Andrea nodded and they pulled apart.

"We're going that way," she said, pointing straight ahead, with neither Trent or Noelle. "I think I heard someone scream up there," Andrea finished, grabbing Adam's reluctant hand. She clutched it with full strength.

"Fine. I'll just go alone then," Noelle said, staring at the ground, hoping for her last chance to guilt them into coming with her. Andrea frowned, and dragged Adam along, headed straight ahead.

"Bye, sis," Trent said, tauntingly, as he tapped the reluctant Wilson on the shoulder. He followed Trent.

Noelle was left standing in the snow, all alone, and went off in her direction. "TOM! REVEREND!" She yelled over the winter wind. But it was to no use.

"So you're saying you don't feel bad at all about leaving your sister all alone out here?" Wilson asked, obviously feeling guilty himself.

"Not really, no," Trent responded, which was the truth. His whiny sister had been a pain for him all of his life. Now, for once she had to fend for herself.

"Trent, you realize there's a reason I picked you over your sister. And it wasn't that I wanted to go in your direction," Wilson admitted. Trent looked confused. "I'm in love with Becca. I'm her ex boyfriend. And I figured you could get her to me the fastest. So she realizes how much she loves me, and dumps that bastard Luke." Trent gasped in disbelief.

"Freak! You're the stalker boyfriend Becca had! She needed a restraining order! Isn't that still in affect?" Trent asked, freaked at the rediscovery of his friend's stalker.

"Shut up. No one knows," Wilson said, pulling out a knife. "Now take me to her. Or I'll kill you." Trent's eyes widened. He nodded, and turned in a different direction.

Then he ran. As fast as he could. And he screamed. Louder than he had ever screamed before. "SHIT!" Wilson yelled, pursuing Trent, sprinting through the snow. But Trent was much, much faster.

Noelle stopped in her tracks when she heard screams. "TRENT! IS THAT YOU! IT'S NOELLE!" she screamed, panicking.

She heard her name yelled in the distance. She ran towards the screams, pitter-patter, pitter-patter, across the packed snow and the forest floor.

Then it happened. Noelle fell, face first, into the snow. She spit snow and grass from her mouth, as she struggled to get herself together.

Amnesia struck. Noelle had no idea what she was doing. And by then, the screams had stopped, and Noelle began to search for the missing people once again.

"Guys, did you hear that?" Keith asked his twin, and his friend David. They nodded.

"I think it was a scream. A guy's scream," Kenn added. David nodded.

"Should we split up? Find the source of the screams? Then meet back up," David suggested, and the twins nodded vigorously. The three went in different directions.

Who is that screaming? It's really loud, David thought, over the noise of the snow going crunch, and the sounds of the shrieks. He couldn't see the source. He couldn't see anything over this glare.

This is ridiculous! David thought once again. He ran faster and faster. David could see no one, nothing. The green of the pine trees blended together, and the bareness of the rest of the plant life also seemed to become one big gray blob.

"Hello…" David whispered, his whispers carried by the wind.

Nothing. No response. David thought he had heard a rustling in the bushes nearby- he went to see.

"Hello…" He whispered again, this time not so much a whisper, but a faint call.

Fuck you, Luke, for bringing me here, David thought. If I make it out of here alive, bro, you're in for it. Hesitant, David pulled out a small pocketknife, ready to defend himself. One more time, he thought.

Cautiously, David jumped around the corner of a tree. He screamed with terror only matched by few before.

David saw the corpse of Ms. Carol Mendez, pinned to that tree. The rustling was just the wind. "HELP!" he shrieked, over the wind, loud, so loud. "HELP ME! SOMEONE!" he boomed. His cries were useless.

"She was just so amazing. So very beautiful, and alluring," Devin continued, as Kylie grasped his hand. Kylie giggled quite girlishly.

"I see," cue giggle. "Truthfully, Devin, I really think you should move on. It's your friend's fiancé. Not good, not good at all," Kylie continued. Devin nodded solemnly. "Why don't we just keep moving then. Keep it moving, keep it moving," Kylie suggested, and she swung Devin's arm up down and around. Kylie was in love with him as he loved Becca.

"BLAIRE! TOM!" Devin yelled, over the wind, and the afternoon glare.

What a perfect moment, with a perfect guy, Kylie thought.

And what a perfect moment it was.

"Daniel, babe, I think we gotta keep moving," Diane suggested to her overwhelmed husband, who sat depressingly in the snow.

"I guess," Daniel answered, and with a groan, he stood up. He grasped the hand of his trophy wife. "Let's find my daughter. Our daughter," Daniel said, smiling weakly. "BLAIRE!" He yelled, determined as ever.

"We need to get her back to the Inn," Jeff said to his longtime friend James. He nodded. "I'll take her back- why don't you continue searching?" Jeff suggested, and James nodded reluctantly.

"Alright, fine," James said, kissing Carmen's forehead. "Take care of her," James demanded, and Jeff nodded. James and Carmen weren't an item; they were just really, really good friends. James moved a strand of hair from Carmen's forehead, and reluctantly parted with Jeff and Carmen, who headed in the Inn's direction.

Keep her safe, James thought to himself.

"DAVID!" Kenn yelled over the wind's whipping. "KEITH!" Kenn had been wandering for about half an hour, and after screams had stopped, he started screaming for his ex-group. Where the hell were they?

"HELLO! Someone…" Kenn said, his screams dying down in volume. He heard someone call his name. David, he thought, thankful, he sprinted.

"DAVID!" Kenn screeched.

"Kenn…" David screamed, though it was far enough to Kenn that it seemed like a distant whisper.

Kenn and David sprinted towards each other, and, after about 5 minutes, they finally reached each other. "David!" Kenn said excitedly, and pulled his friend into a hug. They gasped for air; both winded, they sat down. "Did you find anything?" Kenn asked, after regaining his breath. "I found nothing."

"Carol… Carol's dead…" David said, pausing, choking with tears.

"WHAT! CAROL! Was it an accident?" Kenn asked, hopeful.

"No… Hell no. There were 4 or so arrows in her… She was murdered… And it makes me wonder: what about the rest of them? Were they murdered, too?" David asked himself and Kenn, obviously deep in thought.

Kenn stood up, panting, pacing, and looking for a reason for Carol's murder. "No… No! Carol can't be dead! The others can't be either… Or are they? Ugh! Help!"

"They're all dead. I can feel it," David said, staring at the sky. "I can… I can feel it."

"Mommy, please! Stop it!" Kaden Lewis yelled at his mother. She was trying to get him to bathe.

"Kaden, sweetie! It's unhealthy to go this long without a bath," Carrie responded, and turned her head in disgust at the smell of him.

"Fine. I'll go, but mom, please, give me my space," Kaden said, acting cool. He went into the bathroom, stepped into the bathtub and locked the door.

Carrie giggled at her young son's sense of humor. Kaden was a good kid, just stuck in a bad situation, here. Carrie remembered the day she first learned she was pregnant.

((--------------------------------Flashback----------------------------))

Carrie looked at the test in disbelief. A plus sign? What did that mean? Carrie didn't want to believe it. She threw out the test, drank a gallon of Sunny D, and came back for another.

No. A third? Same thing. 3 plus signs. Carrie just sat in cried. She was 16, pregnant, and alone. The father died in a car crash earlier that month, days after she had gotten pregnant.

This baby would be the love of Carrie's life.

((End Flashback))


Moe Forks lye down on his comfortable, tacky hotel bed in his musty, lightly furnished hotel room, alone, watching TV. Suddenly, Moe heard a light rap on the door. "Come in," he murmured, just loud enough to gain the attention of the figure outside. When they didn't answer, Moe spoke again, this time louder. "Come in!" When they didn't answer again, Moe became frustrated.

Moe just continued to be blissful, lying down, staying on top of the covers. A re-run of Will & Grace was on- it was his favorite episode. The knocking continued. At first, Moe ignored it.

Then it became too much, too annoying, for the usually polite butler. "Damn it," he mumbled, shuffling his feet over to the door. He looked through the peephole in the door.

This was his fatal mistake. First, Moe scratched his head when he just saw white outside the peephole. He looked through again.

The figure fired a revolver, right through the towel, using it as a silencer. The bullet went straight into Moe's head, killing him instantly. He crumpled over backwards, his blood showering all over the room.

The figure casually walked away, inwardly commending himself for his creativity of using the towel as a silencer.

"Andrea, honey, are you sure we're going the right way?" Adam asked worriedly, as they had been walking for the better part of an hour.

"Of course I know. How dare you doubt me!" Andrea said, matter-of-factly. She continued walking forward, and when Andrea was in this kind of mood, Adam knew better than to piss her off.

"Look, Andy girl, I really think we should try to find our way back to the Inn. We've been out here for hours," Adam suggested.

"NO! We have to keep looking. I'm sure we'll find them," Andrea snapped back. "And what did you call me? Andy girl? Well fuck off. I don't want to be called that. The name's Andrea, dumb ass."

Andrea's last words had stung Adam, so he just followed foolishly through the forest, unaware of the danger that lurked here.

"Luke, I feel like we've been walking forever," Becca groaned, tugging on her fiancé's arm.

"Becca, we have to keep moving. Our friends may be out here," Luke continued.

"Luke, their not my friends. I don't really care. Donna's a snob, Tom cheated on Claire with Carol, and Blaire's a BITCH!" Becca whined, and stopped in her tracks. Drew just watched from a few feet back.

"You two, cut it out. I'm with Becca. I really think we should go back. If we can find our way," Drew added, thoughtfully. Becca nodded vigorously.

"Luke, seriously, you're tired, I'm tired, Drew is tired too. We should really start back now- we have no idea when we'll actually get there," Becca reasoned. Luke nodded slowly, reluctantly.

"Fine. Let's go," Luke said, grasping Becca's hand.

Drew, Becca and Luke walked in circles for what seemed like hours. "We'll never get back," Drew said, groaning, while the bride and groom nodded.

"Ugh. My legs are jelly!" Becca admitted, sitting in the snow. "But we need to get back. And keep moving," she said, contradicting herself. Becca got up and they kept walking in circles.

"Oh, Camp- OH!" Katrina moaned, stopped mid word by her recent fiancé, who made out with her furiously.

Campbell stopped suddenly. "Do you think it's gone yet?" he asked, speaking of the bear that had chased them moments ago. He pressed his ear to the wall, eager to answer his own question. "It's not there. I don't hear it. But I'll go first," Campbell volunteered. Katrina nodded.

Campbell found a small hatchet in the corner, and quietly opened the door. He beckoned Katrina out. "It's safe," he said. They crept out. Campbell still held the hatchet up. Katrina smirked.

"Come here," she said, and pulled Campbell close, as they kissed passionately. In truth, Katrina couldn't survive an hour without Campbell's tongue inside her mouth. They pulled apart at the same time, as if they were linked psychologically.

The loving young couple held hands, and walked through the forest, not a care in the world.

"BLAIRE!" Rachal yelled, wandering hopelessly through the woods. Her husband Greg was long gone. Now it was her and her adopted sister, Madison, wandering together.

"TOM!" Madison shrieked, in her loudest scream. They were tired and hungry, tired from searching, and didn't really care anymore. They heard a patting of feet on the ground.

"RACHAL!" The person yelled.

"HELLO!" Rachal yelled back. In a few moments, Shea Allen was standing in front of her eyes. "Shea? What are you doing here?" Rachal asked, surprised at her sudden appearance.

"There's a murderer… We found Tom and Jay hung, and the Reverend all chopped up!" Shea yelled, panicking.

"Oh god!" Rachal gushed, and she went pale.

"Yeah! Thank GOD I found you guys! Wait… Where's Greg?" Shea asked.

"He… We lost him…" Rachal answered, with sheer horror stretched on her voice.

"For your sake, I hope he's alive. Let's go back to the hotel," Shea suggested, and the two sisters followed Shea through the forest.

They were hopelessly lost.

"Hello? Someone?" Greg Schmidt asked, wandering through the thousands of trees in the forest. "Blaire? Rachal? Madison?" No answer. No one could hear him anyway.

"Someone! AHH!" Greg screamed, falling deep into a manmade pit-trap. "SOMEONE! HELP ME!" Greg shrieked. No one could hear him. Not even the person who had set the trap.

"Anyone out there? David? Kenn?" Keith asked the wind, and for his question the wind had no answer.

Keith walked, and kept walking and walking for what seemed like forever. Then, he tripped over something and rolled down. "What the hell!" He said, quite loudly. He crawled back up the hill to see what he had tripped on.

Keith looked at the lumpy black garbage back before him. The stench was horrible- he wasn't sure if he WANTED to open the bag now.

Cautiously, Keith stuck a nail into the bag, and dragged the nail across, splitting the bag open. And inside, Keith was screaming at the top of his lungs.

Outside, Keith was throwing up all over the corpse of Blaire Buckingham.

"Where are we?" Katrina asked Campbell. They'd been holding hands, kissing and walking around in circles for hours.

"I have no idea. But who cares. If we find the Inn, then we find the Inn. And if not, there's always that cabin again," Campbell said, winking.

Katrina giggled. "Then we can get FUNKY!" She said, ecstatic.

"Uh… Sure!" Campbell responded, laughing hysterically at his fiancé.

"I think it's like 3:30 PM. We still have like, 3 hours until we should be back. Want to keep searching?" Katrina asked. Campbell nodded. "BLAIRE!" Katrina yelled. "This is useless," She decided on her own, and before Campbell could speak or pull away, she brought him into a passionate kiss.

Run, was the only word that popped into Trent's mind. By now he had stopped screaming; he had definitely outrun his attacker, but no way in hell was Trent going to look back or slow down his pace. SHIT! Side stitch! That was the next thing to pop into Trent's head, and then just crap, crap, crap, as he tumbled head under, over and behind heels, all around.

Trent heard the footsteps of his pursuer. A mad scrambling of his legs followed, and he barely stood up. But it wasn't fast enough.

"Hello, Trent," a familiar voice said. Trent reluctantly turned around.

"What! You! I was expecting…"

"…Wilson. I know," the figure interrupted. They raised their machete so that it gleamed in the mid afternoon sun.

"Please, c'mon, what did I ever do to you!" Trent begged, pleading for his life. He went to turn around, but slipped on the icy snow, and fell on his rear end.

The figure loomed over him. "Oh, Trent, how foolish to stop running, to look back. Oh, how stupid you are," the figure said.

"Please… Please! Leave me! Leave me alone! I won't tell anyone! I'll kill anyone for you!" Trent begged. The figure cackled sinisterly.

"That's very nice of you, Trent! Begging for your life in the exchange of others! But they'll all die at the hands of me and two of my friends anyways. Just like you," The figure added, smirking, raising their machete.

"Please… NO! HELP!" Trent yelled. He was too far away to be heard. The figure raised their machete to eclipse the sun. Trent closed his eyes and braced himself.

The figure swung with all their might, and cut off Trent's head, leaving it at his side.

"Well, I think that makes nine. With many more to go," the figure said, sneering as they walked away.

Mason Lewis sat on the bed in his hotel room, looking over business papers, ready to start his first business. He looked again. It couldn't be true. The slacker, the loser, the failure, that was supposed to be Mason, was now over. He was about to open his own restaurant.

Cooking and baking had always been a passion of his, and he realized one day that he actually wanted to do something with his life. It had started when he'd realized he had blown through his inheritance, and his uncle Roy wouldn't lend him any more money. Mason couldn't afford to pay rent and other living expenses with his job as a Wal-Mart clerk.

So that's how the idea of Mason's Darling Diner came into existence.

After that, Mason realized he didn't even have the funds to open up a single restaurant.

And that's where Mr. Graham Collins came in.

Mason knew his one and only chance with Graham was at this wedding, and since he was well off, he'd surely be nice enough to lend the money to him, right? Correct. Graham did give Mason the money he needed to open the diner, and all Mason needed now was employees to hire.

That's how Mason's Darling Diner had come into existence.

"Come here, Luke, let me slit your throat…" Wilson murmured to himself, holding his knife up in the air. He had clearly lost Trent already. He hoped that Trent was dead.

"Becca… My love, come to me, be mine…" Wilson whispered to himself, again, this time swinging the knife at a gnat.

"Luke… Let me cut off your head and hang it on my wall…" Wilson said, louder this time, enraged. He stalked through the forest, looking for someone, anyone to murder.

He heard footsteps, and heavy breathing. Wilson smiled sinisterly, and followed the sound of the steps like a predator stalking its prey.

"Did you hear that?" Campbell asked. Katrina shrugged.

"Hear what?"

"Footsteps. Breathing. I swear someone behind us…" Campbell stopped. Katrina got the hint. She stopped. They heard a wild shriek, and Wilson jumped out from behind them.

"KATRINA! RUN! GET HELP!" Campbell screamed as the vicious Wilson almost sliced him.

Katrina didn't budge as tears streamed down her face. "I'm not leaving you!" she insisted, as Wilson lunged at her. She screamed.

"Fine!" Campbell yelled. Katrina got up her strength and ran around behind Wilson and kicked him in the neck. He collapsed.

Campbell gaped. "Whoa. Good job," He said, as he took his pulse. "He's alive- at least you didn't snap his neck."

"Thank god! I don't want to be a murderer," Katrina admitted, still sobbing. Campbell glanced around the woods, and found some twine. He tied Wilson's hands behind his back, and took his knife. "Wait… Didn't you have a hatchet earlier?" Katrina asked her fiancé.

"Yeah… It must've fallen out of my pocket. I'll just take this," Campbell responded, picking up the knife. He got Wilson up. "We're bringing you back to the Inn," Campbell said. Wilson frowned, as they walked in a random direction.

Claire jumped at any noise of any footsteps coming through the hallway adjoining to her room. She cried and cried into the dusty old covers, and then she cried some more.

It had been a long day for Claire Gorshaw- her husband, as well as 2 others, had been found murdered. It wasn't the brightest occasion.

In that small room, Claire felt more alone than she had ever felt before.

"Seriously, where the fuck are we?" Drew asked, frustrated at Luke and Becca for bringing him here. "How far is the Inn?"

"Truthfully, I don't know," Luke admitted, as he sighed a huge sigh. Becca groaned.

"We should find one of those hunter's cabins that are all around here, and stay in one of them!" Becca suggested suddenly. She was proud of herself.

"Great idea!" Drew said, suddenly livened by the idea of rest.

"There's one close, I think," Luke said. With that, the trio, suddenly alive, trekked through the now blizzard to find a cabin.

"Hello! Blaire!" James yelled, basically the only one still searching for the missing guests.

"Someone! Tom!" James yelled again, louder, with more fear.

"CAN ANYONE FIND ME!" He screamed in an all out panic, and at this point James' fear took control of him.

"James!" he heard a voice. A figure came out from behind him.

"You! I AM SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU!" James said, jumping up and down, although the figure stayed still.

"James, I wouldn't say that," the figure said, pulling a rope from their pocket.

"What? What is that… What the hell are you doing! HELP!" James shrieked, as the figure approached menacingly. As if screaming would help.

"James, James, James…" The figure whispered, approaching slowly.

"HELP! HELP!" James screamed one last time, as the figure pulled the rope around his neck, and yanked it toward him so that it cut off James' airway, by crushing his windpipe.

James died in a few seconds.

As his corpse collapsed to the ground, the figure realized that they didn't care if his corpse was found.

So in the middle of the woods, James' corpse lay still on the snow.

DEATHS:

Moe Forks - "The Butler"

Trent Lucas - "The Drunk"

James Young - "The Athlete"

I really had no trouble killing off anyone this chapter. I'm shortening the cast of characters drastically.

Meaning of chapter name-This one was really easy. The characters are cut off from the outside world, Trent's head was cut off, and James wind pipe was crushed, so his airway was cut off.

Review! Please! Tell your friends! ANONYMOUS IS ON! There will be 14 chapters. 3 killers, and, no, Wilson is just psycho, HE IS NOT A KILLER. Also, please tell me your favorites, who's next and who's the killer. Reviews are appreciated. No, worshipped. I can't figure out, like, 5 character's fates, and so later on, maybe around chapter 10 or so, when most are already dead, I'll hold a poll to vote for who you want to live, kinda like Julie's Jewels did. Read and review her story, Harper's Island 2, as well.

I love the way Katrina and Campbell are developing, they might be MY favorites right now :). Btw, only ONE death next chapter :(. Don't worry: that doesn't happen much.

The more reviews, the more motivated I become. And next chapter may take a little longer- I'm with friends tomorrow, and then I have homework I've been putting off to do Sunday-- then back to school :(.

Preview of next chapter: "Katrina and Campbell struggle with Wilson, guests wander the woods being attacked, turning on one another. An 11th victim is claimed."

Bye for now :D

Meaning of chapter name-This one was really easy. The characters are

cut off from the outside world, Trent's head was cut off, and James

wind pipe was crushed, so his airway was cut of chapter name-This one was really easy. The characters are cut off from the outside world, Trent's head was cut off, and Jameswind pipe was crushed, so his airway was cut off.