AN: For readers, there are a few chapters that never made it over from Ao3, but since I've fallen out of love with the Simpsons and my style has gone through some changes, I am no longer continuing that specific story arc. We're heading into uncharted waters and updates going forward will be when I am inspired to write horror. If you are interested in what the story was, pop over to Ao3 to check out the missing chapters.

Terri never made it to the Spuckler residence. As she climbed into the waiting minibus, a bright light bled into her vision. Before her eyes cleared, an odorous damp rot rose into her nostrils and she was soon greeted by the shadowy interior of Burn's dingy study. Cold sheets of rain ran off the cracked window pane behind his cobweb laden desk.

Concealed in the dancing shadows of a fireplace stood the loathsome Mr. Black. In the orange light, his umber suit glistened with an oily sheen. Muddy-green tentacles oozed from beneath his the hem of his jacket, licking the ground with an alien sentience. Aware of her sudden arrival, he slid around to face her with a glass of wine clutched in his spindly fingers.

"It really has been such an abhorrent display, wouldn't you agree, Miss Mackleberry?" He asked, twisting in her direction like a marionette." The portrait of decay, Mr. Black's cheeks, were sunken in a vampiric flair with sagging skin bulging around his eyelids similar to the water-logged corpse Terri remembered getting fished out of the Springfield bay.

"Um, which part?" She jerked, finding herself standing in a vicious solution. The floor had bubbled up her leg, trapping her in place like quicksand. "Whoa." Terri tried to pull free, but to no avail.

Mr. Black appeared amused by her distress. However, he remained silent, appreciating the dry flavor of his cosmic red wine. ""The whole ordeal. So predictable it's almost disappointing." He glided over to her, his feet never gracing the ground. "Murderous girlfriends. UFOs. An evil corporation pulling the strings…"

"Hey don't knock the classics." She shrugged with a deadpan expression. "So where is everyone else?"

"Still on route to save Bart." Mr. Black stopped in front of her, a cold smile on his thin, colorless lips. "But do not fret. This rescue mission will be delayed indefinitely."

Terri's eyes became pensive as they met his detached gaze. "Speak plainly.

He stared right through her, dissecting Terri into her base parts. "It has become so… boring. We need to reshuffle the deck." He turned. His human arm becoming longer with a cracking noise as bone splintered, then retracted as it beckoned to someone in the hallway. "She's ready." The floor was kind enough to swirl Terri so she could face who approached.

She braced for Jenda to appear but lost what little color her face when a jazzy swing ballad started to play. Roaring applause washed over Terri as her clothes transformed into a black corset and miniskirt with chains over her shoulders.

Heels tapping off tile, announced her dance partner. "Hey, T…" Jessica said with a sing-song falsetto. She twirled on her approach, the glint of a knife visible in the fabric of her sheer form-fitting dress. "Don't look so shocked."

Terri frowned, swallowing a pesky glob of mucus forming in her throat. "Jess, I swear if this is another one of your little episodes."

Jessica sniggered and gave a dramatic curtsy. She flitted her black hair with her hand. ""I am afraid it is. We're having one last dance." Her dark eyebrows danced with a malicious glee. "Turns out killing you is the quickest way to reset the timeline."

"Oh my god," Terri mouthed, but no sound emerged. Her fear evaporated and with an excited squeal, she clapped. "Dying in a sapphic musical was my fourth favorite way to die!"

"See this is why I love you, Terri." Jessica skipped around, putting her arm around Terri's waist from behind.

"Mmm, wish Bart was here…" Terri sighed, feeling the knife sliding along her spine. The hot breath on her neck caused her to wiggle her hips while pushing backward. "He deserves to see me get killed."

"I know, but it can only be us." Jessica reached up, her hand sliding between her to-be-victim's breast. "Sherri and Bart might try to interfere with the ritual. It's for the best we handle this ourselves."

"I'm still going to tell Sherri," Terri said, squeezing the groping hand as it worked to unhook her bra.

"She'll understand. It's not cheating, it's just girls' stuff." Jessica spun around, guiding Terri by her waist. The floor released its prisoner. An unseen jukebox clicked over; the upbeat, jazzy tune rising into a fever pitch melding into the intoxicating aroma of lust. With each punctuating thump of the unseen drums, Jessica drove the knife into Terri. First, it was her abdomen with a playful but fleeting kiss.

Terri's sight sparkled with blotches of black liquid, her thoughts swimming with delirium as her mouth grew wet with saliva. Arousal mixed with agony, creating a deafening ecstasy as she pushed her fingers into the gash. Another sputter of blood dripped onto the floor.

"Harder, bitch. You know I like it rough," Terri rasped, bending over to better grind on her murderer as she pawed blood on the white foundation coating her cheeks. "That's my girl!" Jessica kicked her leg up, belting out another verse as she rolled over top Terri's back, then stabbed her in the side between the ribs.

Drenched in red and meat, she pushed Terri over. Standing over her, Jessica licked her lips, waiting for the music to reach a crescendo. The crowd was going wild, but remained only a distant hallucination. Terri found her limbs weak, writhing on the ground she pushed her knees together in a demure performance. "Mmmm. Next time, we switch and I get to penetrate you."

Her word wavered as she spoke. Jessica ran her tongue over the bloody knife. "I'd like that." She knelt, stabbing it twice into both of Terri's thighs.

Hovering above the grisly scene, Terri watched herself die. It was a calming experience, as she had always fantasized it would be. With a numbing chill rising through up into her sternum as her heart's thumping became chaotic as it leapt into her throat and then into her stomach. Coughing, she spat into Jessica's face, and Terri smiled. "I'm going to curse you with an unplanned pregnancy and a miscarriage."

"I hope it's in that order!" Jessica exclaimed, her eyes wide. "Don't worry, our memories will be right as rain in the next timeline…" She pressed the knife into the flesh of Terri's neck. "We may have to fill in the rest, and who knows what might change? It'll be an adventure."

The last sensation Terri felt was that of the knife opening her throat. She slipped into the comfort of the void, then with a jolt, she was outside. A chill was in the air, bringing a cloud of white from her staggered gasp. Layers of frost coated the bleachers she was nestled under. Bart had his arm around her, the two of them sharing a joint.

She mumbled under her breath, then stood abruptly. Sweat formed on her brow as Terri collected her bearing. Through the cracks in the bleachers, she saw the track team doing laps to the rhythmic whistle of Coach Krupt. The trees on the horizon were a beautiful crimson-yellow, confirming it was still autumn. Unzipping her jacket, Terri pulled up her faded sangria turtleneck.

"T?" Bart asked, the tip of the joint glowing in his mouth. "Are you greening out?" He watched her worriedly checking her ribs, on which her skin was pulled taught. "Now, I don't mind a little strip show."

"I'm …" Terri sighed, relieved. She chewed her lip. "That was so hot…" She turned and jumped on him. "I need you right now, Bart." He almost fell on his ass as she straddled against his groin, only now realizing she was wearing a raggedy dress. A change from the skinny jeans she normally wore.

"Here?!" Bart exclaimed, looking around dumbly, not keen on such a public display. "Can't we go somewhere quieter?" "Hmm, we probably should." Terri strained her neck, pushing her tongue into his mouth with a sloppy kiss. Her arms squeezed him close, as she reached beneath his beanie to tussle his lovely head of blonde hair. "Got a rubber right?"

"In my shoe." Bart winked. He found her lavender perfume was overpowering when mixed with the layer of grunge that had overtaken them both. "What's gotten into you, T? This strain was supposed to be a downer."

"I have no idea!" Terri squeaked manically; "I'm not even sure if any of this is real!"

"You two better be decent," Sherri interrupted, ducking underneath a support beam on the bottom of the bleachers. Her sense of style remained unaltered for the most part. A black turtleneck and an identical dress to her twin. The only departure from her previous iteration was Sherri had fashioned her purple hair with blunt bangs.

Terri remained latched onto her boyfriend. "Define decent." Her cheeks were as red as a stoplight.

"This is decent for you two," Sherri said, fishing a cigarette out of her purse. "What's the occasion this time?" She squinted at her sister. "You're not pregnant, are you?"

"What?! Gross!" Terri slid off Bart, gagging. Trying to regain her mysterious air, she snatched the joint from him, taking a long pull off before promptly coughing. "Urm, where is Jess?"

"She's with Nelly. He's borrowing a couple of computers from the lab," Sherri said, coming over to her sister. She reached out, taking her by the hand, and rubbed a thumb over Terri's palm. "You're trembling, T. What happened?"

Terri wobbled, falling to the ground. All of sudden clarity descended upon her as the crushing reality of what had transpired rushed to swallow her. Choked sobs emerged as she rubbed her eyes despondently. Her thighs burning with unseen knife wounds. "You won't believe me…"

Bart look at Sherri, who looked back at him. They both hugged Terri immediately. An executive decision was made that school blew, and she deserved a Krusty burger. So it was decided. Seated next to the window looking out over the street, through mouthfuls of fries, Terri regaled them with her adventure. Even saying it all aloud, she knew how insane it sounded. There was little doubt, she in different company she would receive a one-way trip to a padded room.

Sucking on a French fry until it was soft, Bart removed his beanie. "Whoa…" He believed her, and could tell Sherri did as well. "That sounds metal."

Terri puffed her cheeks. "I wanted you to be there, but noooo."

Sherri popped her knuckles. "I'm gonna have to kill Jess." She sighed dramatically. "Shame, but no matter there are other sexually confused sluts in Springfield."

Slurping nosily on his soda, Bart said, "Well lets not be drastic. We knew the risk of being her friend." He pilfered a dollop of ketchup from Terri's plate. "What's really scary is that Mr. Black is our guidance counselor now."

Terri twitched, her chewing slowing until she coughed, a piece of meat catching in her throat. "Guidance counselor!?"

Their foray from the school's hallowed grounds was cut short and, upon her insistence, Terri was standing with Bart in the deserted corridor of the basement. A single office stood at the end of the hallway, silhouetted by the flickering of an overhead florescent light. The sign on it confirmed the worst. Black, it read. No first name was provided.

Sherri had left them to find Jessica. Terri chewed on her hoodie's zipper, then took a deep breath, pushing inside. Mr. Black was seated at his desk, reading a copy of the Springfield Gazette. Slaying on Industry way! Declared the headline.

He crinkled the paper, peering around the corner with a single eye. "Ah! Miss Mackleberry, please sit."

"I'd prefer to stand," she said, backing up into Bart for reassurance.

"Suit yourself." Mr. Black sighed, getting up and shuffling over to a filing cabinet. His office was a soothing gray, lacking any avenues of stimulation, aside from a murky snowglobe on his desk. There was a miniature town enveloped in a miasma of gray ash sprinkling on top of its ramshackle rooftops.

"You're going to answer my questions." Terri clonked her heavy boot against the tile.

"That's why I'm here, Miss Mackleberry. Because I love answering bright young minds' pressing questions." Mr. Black took out a piece of paper out of a manila envelop. He looked at Bart who, like a moth, was staring into the light-bulb of the crooked lamp on his desk. "Well, most bright young minds."

"Don't give me that! You let me get murdered!" Terri was ready to leap over the desk, but Bart held her in place.

Mr. Black stared at her unmoved. "Quite an accusation. Do you have any proof?" He did not let her answer. "No? Are you sure this isn't just a complex con to renew your little club?"

"Oh crap, I forgot about that." Bart reached into his pocket. "Yo, Mr. Black, get me your signature."

Terri took a peek at the note. It was for a stargazing club with an emphasis on identifying Unidentified Flying Objects. Some things never changed, it seemed.

"In a minute," Mr. Black said, putting the paper aside. "Now, Terri, if you want to go to go on our yearly Fall Break trip to Kamp Krusty, I need you to get your mother to sign this."

Terri lost what little color remained in her face below the alabaster white foundation as she took the slip of paper. "Kamp Krusty?"

"Yes, that's right." Mr. Black's lips curled upward. "Is that going to be a problem?" He steepled his fingers. "Because should you choose to forgo the trip, it would reflect poorly on your transcript."

Her eyes narrowed on his stony face. "What is your angle?"

"No angle. Kamp Krusty has just been shown to… improve students with a record of behavioral problems."

Seeing Terri might take a swing, Bart held onto her wrist. " Ah, don't worry, T. This slimy bastard hasn't beaten us yet."

Mr. Black cocked his head at the statement. "Beaten you? What makes you think that's my intent?"

"Mostly the sinister scheming and eldritch powers," Terri said bluntly; "Fine, Mister Black. I'll play your game again. Don't think for a minute you'll get another murder show."

She took Bart by the hand, the two of them leaving. Mr. Black smiled. "That depends on Jessica, doesn't it?"

Clothespin on her tongue, Jessica pled her case to the corner of the Mackleberry basement wall. She had been grabbed by the scruff by Sherri, who was in no mood for excuses regarding her cosmic crime.

"It was consensual!" Jessica huffed, folding her arms. Despite her protests, she kept her nose in the corner. "Terri enjoyed herself!"

"Terri has had her head banged against Bart's headboard a few too many times," Sherri said, looming over her girlfriend with frightful intentions.

"Hey!" Terri protested, laying on the carpet in front of their CRT television, which was set upon a pile of cinder blocks borrowed from a local construction site. "I wish!" A black and white mummy crawled from its coffin on the screen.

Bart was sitting on the couch, one hand in a bag of chips with both feet kicked up on the rickety coffee table laden with esoteric tomes. "Yeah, my bed can't support two people."

"Huh." Nelson popped the tab on his soda. "Here, I thought you two preferred the floor." A mental image of a toned yellow ass appeared in his head and he shuddered, guzzling his carbonated beverage.

"Jess." Sherri placed both hands on her hips. "How about next time instead of murdering my sister at the behest of some tentacle-laden freak, you come talk to us?"

"It's not like he gave me the option!" Jessica spun on the stool. "And I wanted to learn how powerful Mr. Black truly was!"

"Oh, and killing my sister was worth the cost?" "Yeah." Jessica blinked at her dully. "It was the sexiest thing I've ever experienced." Terri hummed, bobbing her head. "Well, she's not wrong."

"Not the time, T." Sherri snapped her finger. She tugged on the clothespin on Jessica's tongue. "Apologize."

"Nuh uh." Jessica shook her head.

"Eh, I'm over it, Sherri," Terri said with a disinterested shrug. "I'd have done the same if I was a jealous sow."

"Takes one to know one!" Jessica cried, placing a thumb on her nose so it was pushed into a Mackleberry-esque snout. "Oink."

Sherri swatted her on the head. "Just for that, we're taking a break."

"A break!?" Jessica gasped, pushing her lower-lip out. "Sherri, baby! I'll die!"

"Nope." Sherri sauntered away, sitting with her sister. "We're moving on to more important matters now."

Nelson leaned into the torn couch. "This timeline doesn't seem so bad by comparison. Let's try not to blow it." He looked at the back of the twins. "So, what's the skinny on Kamp Krusty?" "You don't remember?" Bart asked, glancing back.

"I drink… A lot, Bart," Nelson said. Bart wasted no time reminding them of their ill-fated experience in the fourth grade. Where campers were treated as slaves by the Krusty corporation. Culminating in a revolt, led by him.

Nelson blinked slowly. "Yeah, yeah. I remember something like that." He laughed. "Great summer break. Three hots and a cot."

"Yeah, who cares if a bunch of campers got disemboweled in 91?" Sherri giggled morbidly. "And everyone got parasites from the imitation gruel." "Weight loss, you say?" Jessica leaned forward. "This place sounds better and better."

"Oh yeah, it was the bee's knees. Still got scars from the hikes," Bart said, hiking up his baggy pants to reveal the scars in question along his calf.

Terri rested her head on her sister's thigh. "You know, this is a different universe. So…" She cast needy eyes in his direction. "Maybe we slip away and find a nice little clearing in the woods to reenact Friday the 13th Part Five."

"Doesn't that girl get her eyes gouged out by head clippers?" Bart asked, only slightly concerned.

"Yes, and? I've already been murdered once now." Terri reached over to pat him.

"And you wanted me to apologize," Jessica said, glaring at Sherri. "Never forget, your sister is a whore."

"Pot meet kettle." Terri snorted. She raised an objecting finger. "Am I really a whore if I do it for free?"

"A bad one, for sure." Jessica flitted her eyelashes. "You should charge way more."

"Nuh uh. It's hard enough to get this one…" Terri pushed Bart. "To get a clue without adding math to the mix."

Their back and forth continued for an unreasonable amount of time, finally culminating in a tearful apology from Jessica for murdering Terri. Girls were strange, Bart and Nelson concluded, or their girls were strange. One or the other. It was often hard to tell.

Hindsight was often twenty-twenty. Stepping onto the rattling yellow bus at the rear of the waiting convoy, Terri realized that the only students chosen for the excursion into the wild were those with less-than-stellar reputations. However, it was too late to retreat, and she found herself seated in the very back of their waiting steed.

Rolling along, civilization, inch by inch, surrendered to the growth of nature. Tall pines speckled with frost scraped a cloudless blue sky as the gravel popped off the bottom of the bus. Terri found the window pane refreshingly cool, gazing off into oblivion while Bart was engrossed in the latest issue of Radioactive Man.

Nelson and Jessica's struggle for the last chip in the bag came to an abrupt end as the trees on each side of the dirt path formed a canopy darkening the sunlight overhead. Chewing on her thumbnail, Sherri craned her neck for a better look. "Bit grim."

She climbed over to the seat, to be closer to Terri, who scooted into the middle, and almost knocked Bart into the walkway between rows. On the horizon, a rusted sign holding on by a single cable read, Kamp Krusty. The wooden bridge rumbled under the weight of the bus and, once passed, collapsed entirely into a cloud of dust.

Watching the posts crumbling into the water below, Jessica raised both eyebrows. "No way out."

"No way out," her friends repeated solemnly.

As they greeted their new fears, a mist rolled down from the mountains on the horizon, soon engulfing the environment in a thick haze. They lurched to a stop, filing out into the center of four decaying cabins arranged in a semi-circle.

There was an odor of ozone in the air. Nelson coughed. "Ugh, it reeks."

"What? No love for that fresh mountain air, Nelly?" Sherri giggled, shifting her bag to her opposite shoulder. "Geez, though, this place hasn't changed a bit."

Black patches of mold grew in colonies all along the rotted wood of the buildings. Each cabin and the longhouse in the middle of them had a bowed in roof from years of neglect.

"I'm gonna get Lyme again," Terri said glumly, checking to make sure her tights were tucked securely in her boots.

Bart pulled his arms into his hoodie, having neglected to pack a travel bag. He looked around, feeling a scrawl of panic in his chest. As if a predator in the woods was peering at him.

The thought evaporated when the double-doors of the longhouse were flung open and clad in olive drab military fatigues, Herman stepped outside. In his hand was a clipboard. "Welcome to Kamp Krusty," he said, stopping in front of the group of students. His cigarette moved from one corner of his mouth to the other. "We're here to enjoy the great outdoors, but before that there is one important rule." His eyes scanned the myriad of faces. "When moving between cabins or around the grounds, always do so with a buddy."

"Oh, that's not foreboding," Sherri said, linking arms with her sister.

Nelson grabbed Bart and Jessica panicked cried, "But we have an odd number!"

This conundrum went unaddressed as, on the other end of the line, Francine blew a big pink bubble, smacking her lips. "You sure you are qualified to be running this place?"

"No, and no more questions," Herman replied curtly. He pointed at the leftmost cabin with a broken window. "That's the girls' barracks." His finger moved to the cabin with a sagging roof. "That's the boys. Anyone caught after lights out in the other sex's cabin will have to spend the night… in the hole."

Disconcerted murmurs went around the teens. Bart stepped forward, "Yo, boot. What the hell are we actually doing out here?"

"Building character. What else, Simpson?" Herman waved his hand in a quick gesture. "Now to your bunks, we eat lunch in two hours."