The sun was setting over the neon-lit strip of Las Vegas, casting a warm glow over the MGM Grand hotel where the infamous crew from the Until Dawn and The Quarry had gathered for a long-awaited reunion. The plan? To reconnect, reminisce, and probably get into some ridiculous trouble. But mostly, they had one goal in mind: hit the casino.

It was a rare sight to see this many survivors of horror and chaos gathered in one place, but here they were, crammed together in an elevator heading down to the casino floor. Samantha Giddings, Joshua Washington, Mike Munroe, Jessica Riley, Emily Davis, Christopher Hartley, Ashley Brown, Matthew Taylor, Laura Kearney, Max Brinly, Abigail Blyg, Kaitlyn Ka, Nicholas Furcillo, Emma Mountebank, Ryan Erzahler, Dylan Lenivy, and Jacob Custos – an eclectic group, all staring down their fate as if they were about to face Wendigos all over again.

"This is it, guys," Mike announced, adjusting his jacket in a way that made him look far too confident. "Tonight, we're going to make a killing—"

"Hopefully not a literal one this time," Josh cut in with a smirk.

"Shut up, Josh," Mike replied, rolling his eyes. "I'm talking about money. Big bucks. I'm feeling lucky. Vegas is practically begging me to take its cash."

Abigail frowned, pulling at her sleeves nervously. "I don't know, gambling seems... risky."

"Yeah, that's kind of the point, Abs," Kaitlyn chimed in, already holding a handful of casino chips she swiped from a distracted couple at the entrance. "The whole 'risk it for the biscuit' thing. You in?"

"I don't eat biscuits," Abigail mumbled, still uncertain.

Kaitlyn shrugged. "Well, then, risk it for... I don't know, something else."

The group finally stepped out of the elevator, greeted by the overwhelming sounds of slot machines, clinking glasses, and the unmistakable sense that someone somewhere was about to make a very bad decision.

Entering the Casino...

They split off into various clusters, each person drawn to their own particular form of self-destruction. Joshua, with his calm but mischievous demeanor, headed straight for the poker tables. Mike followed him, boasting loudly about his "unmatched gambling instincts."

"Seriously, Josh," Mike said, walking beside him, "I've been watching YouTube tutorials. I'm about to clean house."

Josh raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. So, did those tutorials cover how to recover from losing your entire life savings in one go? Just curious."

"Very funny," Mike replied, already eyeing the high-stakes tables with greed in his eyes.

Meanwhile, Jessica and Emily were drawn to the slot machines, giggling like they were 18-year-olds sneaking into a casino for the first time. Jessica pulled the lever dramatically. "Oh my GOD, Emily, we're going to win a jackpot. I can feel it. I'm already planning our yacht party."

Emily looked at her skeptically. "You do know the odds are like one in a million, right?"

"Shh!" Jessica shushed her. "You're ruining my vibes. This is Vegas. Anything can happen."

Across the room, Chris, Ashley, Laura, and Max hovered around a roulette table. Max, already looking out of place in his hoodie and jeans, stared at the spinning wheel with pure confusion.

"Okay, so like... I bet on red, right?" Max asked, his brow furrowing. "Or is it black? What if I just put all my money on both?"

Laura sighed, clearly amused. "That's not how it works, Max. Just... pick a color and pray."

"I'm praying alright," Max muttered as he tossed his chips on the table. "Praying I don't screw this up."

Kaitlyn and Jacob were nowhere to be found – a surefire sign that they were probably plotting something, as usual. Or they were at the bar, which was just as likely.

Ryan, Dylan, and Nick hovered near the craps table, where Dylan was already in his element, explaining the rules as if he'd been born for this moment.

"So, basically, it's super simple," Dylan said, gesturing wildly with a half-empty drink in his hand. "All you gotta do is roll the dice, scream something about being lucky, and then BOOM, instant millionaire."

Ryan blinked. "Pretty sure that's not how that works."

Nick nodded. "Yeah, mate, there's a bit more strategy than just... screaming."

Dylan waved them off. "Details, details. Just watch me."

Chaos Ensues...

An hour passed. Then two. And then it became clear that most of the group was not destined for a life of high-stakes gambling. Jacob had somehow managed to get himself kicked out of two different blackjack tables after loudly accusing the dealer of "using magic" to rig the game.

"There's no way the dealer keeps pulling those cards, man!" Jacob shouted, being dragged away by a security guard.

Kaitlyn, on the other hand, was already up fifty dollars from betting on random people at the craps table, all while snickering at Jacob's misfortune. "See, Jacob? Maybe if you didn't scream 'It's rigged!' every time you lost, you'd have better luck."

"Shut up, Kaitlyn," Jacob mumbled, sulking near the bar.

Meanwhile, Abigail had managed to lose every single chip she started with at the slot machines. She was now staring at an empty cup of quarters with a lost look in her eyes.

"I knew this was a bad idea," she said, shaking her head.

Emma sidled up next to her, cheerfully holding a cocktail in one hand and a stack of chips in the other. "Don't worry, Abs. It's just money. You can always sell your soul to the devil later if you need to."

Abigail stared at her blankly. "Is that supposed to be comforting?"

"Absolutely," Emma replied with a wink.

Jessica and Emily, meanwhile, were still at the slot machines, but now Jessica was banging her fist against the side of the machine like she could force it to spit out money.

"This thing is broken!" Jessica whined. "How is it possible to lose THIS many times in a row?"

Emily, sipping her drink calmly, shrugged. "Vegas, baby."

Over at the poker table, Josh was the only one still fully composed, his pile of chips growing larger and larger by the minute. Mike, on the other hand, had lost all of his chips in a spectacularly bad bluff and was now pacing around the table like a man possessed.

"How are you winning so much?" Mike asked incredulously. "I swear, this game is cursed. Is there a curse in this casino?"

Josh smirked. "It's not cursed, Mike. You're just... how do I put this? Bad at poker."

"I AM NOT BAD AT POKER!" Mike insisted, throwing his arms up. "I'm just... unlucky."

"Sure, sure," Josh said, casually throwing in another bet that doubled his chip pile. "Or, you know, maybe you should've watched those YouTube tutorials in real-time instead of double-speed."

"Shut up, Josh."

By the end of the night, Josh was the only one who had made any significant money. In fact, he had made enough that the casino staff was beginning to eye him suspiciously, like they were ready to send in some goons to gently suggest he call it a night.

"I think we should leave," Chris whispered to Josh as he eyed the burly security guards hovering nearby.

Josh laughed. "Oh, come on. It's just getting fun."

"No, Josh, seriously," Ashley said, glancing over her shoulder nervously. "If you keep winning, they're going to... do something."

"Like what?" Josh asked, raising an eyebrow. "Throw me out for winning too much? This isn't a movie."

Just then, one of the casino managers approached, his smile tight. "Mr. Washington, you've had a great night, haven't you?"

Josh's smile faded slightly. "Yeah... I guess."

"Well, the house would like to invite you to... take a break," the manager said smoothly. "You know, just to let others have a chance at the tables."

"Uh-huh," Josh replied, clearly understanding the not-so-subtle message. "I was just about to call it a night."

The group gathered their things, most of them grumbling about their losses. Kaitlyn was the only other person up, but only by the smallest of margins.

As they exited the casino, Mike glared at Josh. "You couldn't have thrown me, like, one winning tip?"

Josh shrugged. "Hey, man. All's fair in love and poker."

Kaitlyn snickered. "And apparently, Mike's got no love OR poker skills."

"Shut up, Kaitlyn."

The group walked back to the hotel, defeated, but not entirely broken. After all, they'd survived worse.

"Well," Ryan said as they trudged into the elevator, "At least we didn't, you know, die."

"Yeah," Dylan agreed, patting Ryan on the back. "And hey, there's always tomorrow. Maybe we'll get lucky then."

Mike groaned. "There's no such thing as luck in this city."

Josh smirked, holding up his wad of casino chips. "Except for me."

Mike glared at him. "I hate you, Josh."

Josh grinned. "Love you too, buddy."

As the elevator doors closed, the sound of slot machines chiming in the background, the group knew one thing for sure: Vegas had won this round. But tomorrow? Tomorrow was another story.

Or at least, that's what they told themselves as they collapsed into bed, ready to do it all over again.