A/N: Holy hades! Thanks for all the great reviews and watches on my story! I'm really glad you're all enjoying this story. So here's chapter 6. This Chapter has been quite a headache for me, because it never felt right. Everytime I re-read it, I made more changes to it. I'm at the point now where I don't wanna look at it, because I can't change it anymore.
And fair warning - this one is violent and heart stopping.
Oh, and Dear Annonymus... I can't reply to your comments unless you have a log in. Sorry. Don't kill me.
PART SIX
OUTSIDE CHRIS' CABIN 3:34 AM
For the first time, the two female Bass members realized how cold it was outside in just their PJs. They huddled together on the porch steps, watching over Harold who had not come to since seeing Chef Hatchet's bloody corpse. Surprisingly, Bunny had stayed with him the entire time, curled up on his grooming his grey coat. The girls only wished that they could be at that kind of ease tonight.
Bridgette anxiously scanned the distance with the flashlight, shaking as she moved the beam left to right. Courtney wasn't much better off, holding onto the butcher knife so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Both were so focused straight ahead, that they squealed in surprise when the boys came noisily plodding down the steps behind them.
"Sorry," apologized Bridgette as she tried to compose herself. Their companions thought nothing of it as they took a seat on either side of the girls.
"Find a phone?" Courtney inquired.
"That would be too easy," dejected, Duncan dug into his left pocket, pulling out some cash and a watch he'd pilfered while inside.
"You are such a pig," Courtney scolded.
"That's why I bring home the bacon," Duncan grinned mischievously, reaching into his other pocket. The girls gasped as he revealed a map, more specifically a map of the island. The four gathered around as he indicated the northern shoreline circled in red, "It's a second dock on the north shore of the island. I've never seen it on any other map, but I'm willing to bet, that's where the 'Boat of Losers' is stashed when it's not hauling one of our asses off. That's our ticket out of here."
There was a moment of silence while Duncan beamed arrogantly at his discovery. Courtney abruptly flung her arms around him in joy and cried, "Duncan, you're awesome!"
"I know," he chuckled, pounding fists with Geoff's in approval.
ELSEWHERE IN THE FOREST 3:26 AM
Flashlights in hand, the three Gophers gradually made their way through the dark forest towards Chris' cabin. There wasn't any rush according to Gwen, who remained firmly skeptic of the whole murder fiasco. They had also expended some time searching the campgrounds and infirmary one last time for the opposing team.
Gwen led forest trek, even though she was dragging her feet and yawning every few minutes. Trent had to quicken his pace just to keep up, and Leshawna was at the rear, frantically searching the darkness with her flashlight. Despite Gwen's resolve that this was nothing more than an idiotic challenge, she and Trent remained unsure.
"So," Trent began, attempting to coax the Goth from her drowsy lull, "you seem to know a lot about scary movies."
"Yeah," she brightened a little, "I love horror movies, even the bad ones."
"So, you really think this challenge is all staged to be like a horror movie?"
"Absolutely." she confidently answered.
"Okay," the musician appeared persuaded, "So, what do we need to know to survive this challenge than?"
"That's easy," she beamed, "I'm like an encyclopedia on the do's and don'ts of slasher flicks. Like, you should never go off alone; in fact try to stay in groups if you can. Don't agree to pair up, especially if it's guy/girl, because that's just a recipe for being slashed. Never go off into the forest at night, and don't go into the forest to make out. Don't follow the strange voice whispering your name because curiosity will kill you…"
As Gwen and Trent became engrossed in their own conversation, Leshawna's attention became gripped by the shadows and whispers of the forest. The pair had practically forgotten about her and it went unnoticed when she stopped dead in her tracks. The sound of deep but soft laughter filled Leshawna's ears, beckoning the young woman.
"Y'all hear that?" she inquired, but neither of her companions heard her, their voices fading as they continued ahead. The outgoing girl shook her head at her obvious paranoia, deciding, "I'm just hearing things."
Barely taking another step forward, Leshawna shivered as the forest began to chant her name again in echoing whispers. Her eyes widened in fright and she quickly scanned the trees for the source of the voice.
"I know I heard it that time," she insisted squinting into the blurry darkness around her. Leshawna cursed her poor eyesight for the hundredth time since arriving at Wawanakwa, the darkness only adding to her inability to see distances. The flashlight's beam finally reflected off the pale slender arm of someone sitting behind a nearby tree. Even though she couldn't see them clearly, she knew it was a person and curiosity got the better of her.
Precariously, Leshawna tiptoed towards the individual whose long strands of black hair fell loosely over her shoulder. Only a couple of meters away, the African-Canadian now had no doubt who was behind the tree, but she still inquired aloud, "Heather?"
Heather didn't answer back, nor did she move a muscle. Leshawna's flashlight scanned the earth around the slender girl, shining on a knife near her fingertips and the streaks of blood crusted on her arm.
"Oh snap," Leshawna breathed, letting the flashlight roll from her grasp. The instinct to flee filled her body, but she could only stumble back slowly. Abruptly, her backside encountered something firm and unyielding, but it didn't feel like a tree. Leshawna had no voice to scream as she glanced behind her.
THE FOREST 3:36 AM
"If your trying to outrun the killer, expect to trip and fall at least twice, you're never going to outrun him no matter how far he trails behind you. Don't try to be the hero, your sacrifice will mean jack squat in the end. Oh, and stick with the weird Goth girl, she'll be the one most likely to survive," Gwen gladly continued to spout off her wealth of horror film knowledge. Trent was hanging onto her every word, but in reality, he was just contented to listen to the sound of her voice.
"I'll remember that one," he smiled warmly. She returned the smile for a brief moment before she looked as though something painful had struck her. Whirling around, she saw the absence of their third party member and blurted, "Damnit! Where'd Leshawna go?"
"She was just... there?"
"She couldn't have gotten that far," Gwen presumed, hurrying back the way they came. Both teens called out to their missing teammate, their voices echoing against the thick forest. They weren't sure when they'd became separated, but they knew it was because they were off in their own little world. Gwen started to panic as she used the tree trunks to propel herself faster through the dense patches of trees. Even though she didn't believe there was a killer on the loose, something about being lost and alone in the forest was primitively terrifying.
Abruptly, Trent came to a halt, calling for Gwen's attention. She double backed to where he stood, her vision following the beam from his flashlight. Under a shrub lay an arm that undoubtedly belonged to Leshawna. Feelings of overwhelming guilt washed over Gwen at seeing her teammate on the ground like that.
"Leshawna," Gwen started but Trent held her back, aware of something else behind the bushes. The pale goth's attention snapped from him to a green-coated figure rising up from behind the shrubbery. Flashlights focused on a clown-masked man as he scoped up Leshawna's arm, and only her arm. Sadistically he waved the disembodied hand at the two Gophers than revealed the blood soaked carving knife in his other hand.
Both teens screamed at the sight of the grotesque appendage displayed before them. The murderer stepped out from behind the bushes, the motor of his carving knife roaring out.
His laughter filled the night air once again as the two campers desperately turned tail to escape.
Amidst the chaos, no one noticed slender pale fingers reaching across the damp earth towards the fallen knife. The bloodied hand tightly gripped the blade and drew it up to their side. Unsteadily, Heather pushed herself to stand against the tree, her hair spilling all around her face. Through the mess of raven tresses, her lips curled into a smile.
CHRIS' CABIN 3:36 AM
"What'd I miss?" Harold sprung upright from his spot on the cold, hard earth. He glanced over to see his teammates huddled together in intense discussion. The geek was relieved to reach down to find Bunny grooming himself atop his chest. Gathering the grey fuzz ball up, he made his way to rejoin the group.
"Evening sleeping beauty," Duncan sarcastically welcomed.
The redhead immediately observed the map marked in red at the center of their meeting. He leaned forward to study it, seeing the shore circled, with "Boat of Losers" and a question mark written next to the location. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what he had missed as he continued to massage the rabbit. Bunny continued to groom himself fixedly, picking repeatedly at the offensive red liquid mixed in his fur.
"It wasn't chef and it can't be any of us," Bridgette resumed past Harold's interruption. They'd been trying to deduce the murder's identity while waiting for him to come around. "We were all in the cabin at the time," the blonde considered the nights events.
"Duncan wasn't," Harold didn't miss a beat, "He was the last one to the scene."
"Harold, would you stop trying to blame Duncan!" Courtney snapped.
"It's a legit accusation Princess. I was the last to the party," the brunette deflated, stunned that Duncan would so readily admit that he could be a suspect. The juvenile couldn't deny facts, just as much as he couldn't deny his criminal record.
"But Duncan didn't murder Chef," Bridgette pointed out, "He was with us."
"Yeah," Courtney avidly agreed, "Duncan hasn't left my side since we found… well you know."
"It's probably Heather, she was the one who 'found' the body," Duncan offered his main suspect into the mix, but Bridgette was ready to defend her too, "No way, Heather might be mean, but she's no killer. Could she even take on a guy like Chris or Chef? It's none of us, that clown is someone else."
"As riveting as this game of detective is," Duncan stood, stretching out, "I move, that we get our asses out of here."
"But the Gophers," Bridgette pleaded, even though she knew what Duncan would say.
"If we run into them, than they can come," the delinquent shoved his hands into his pockets, "But I'm not waiting anymore."
"I'm still not down with leaving a man behind," Geoff stood too, shaking his head. The girls remained seated, also unsure about any plan to save themselves and leave the others. They had no idea where any of the Gopher team members or DJ was anymore. Worst of all, they had no idea if the other campers were even alive or how long it would be before they confronted the killer.
Meanwhile, Harold had lost focus on their exchange and instead methodically studied his hand, experimentally extending his fingers apart. He gently set Bunny down beside him, speaking mostly to himself, "This rabbit's fur is really sticky."
"That's because blood is sticky," Courtney sighed, rolling her eyes.
"I know that, gosh!" the teen turned his back to the girls as he continued to study the dried red liquid. Sure blood was sticky, but it had been drying on Bunny's fur for quite sometime now. Harold cautiously sniffed dried red substance on his fingertips, than murmured triumphantly, "Boo-yah."
"What?"
"Nothing," Harold denied, frowning deeply at the bossy C.I.T.
"You are so weird Harold," scoffed Courtney, standing to get away from him.
"Yeah, so?" Harold instantly confronted the girl, unaware that Bunny had started to hop away.
"Ugh, never mind. Stop being so defensive."
"Whatever, I am not defensive." Harold crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing through green tinted spectacles.
"Children," Duncan scolded, "Don't make me come back there to break you up."
"She started it!" Duncan whined.
"And I'm gonna finish it."
"You always take her side."
"Well yeah," Duncan pulled Courtney to his side, while she tried her best to look annoyed, "She she's a hot babe, and your a dweeb."
"Whatever," Harold sighed, searching the ground for DJ's pet rabbit, "Um, where'd the rabbit go?"
The girls looked down, searching the ground for any sign of the fluffy, grey critter. Geoff keenly pointed to the side of the cabin, spotting Bunny hopping towards the back, "There's the furry dude! I'll get him."
"Forget the stupid rabbit," Duncan moaned but the cowboy had already given chase. Frustrated by another delay, the delinquent grumbled incoherently and flopped back down onto the steps of the cabin. Bridgette moved across the deck to watch her teammate jog after the quick-footed creature. Geoff clumsily tried to snatch the rabbit to no avail and pursued it past the cabin and towards the forest. She looked back to her team gathered on the porch steps and approached to voice her concern, "Maybe we should go help him."
"Listen, if he wants to be all sentimental about the rabbit…" Duncan received a sharp elbow from Courtney, silencing his complaint.
"I just don't want him to be alone," Bridgette expressed and reluctantly Duncan stood to join the rabbit hunt. Rounding the cabin corner, they saw no sign of their jovial blonde teammate. Bridgette grew increasingly nervous as they reached the back of the cabin and there was still no sign of him.
"Geoff! Where are you?" Duncan hollered into the endless tree line surrounding them.
a/n: Do you think Gwen's a believer now? Will the "weird goth girl" and Trent escape the clown masked killer? Will the Bass team make it to the Boat of Losers and swim out of this story safely? What fate has befallen Bunny… I mean Geoff? And what of Heather, what is she up to? Stay tuned to find out.