There’s a sound.A rustle that makes us both flinch until I realize it’s not a rustle, it’s a crackle coming from the closest gas lamp.The relief that it’s a loose wire, rather than a murderer, pulls a shuddering sigh from my lips.
“Let’s keep going,” Wes murmurs as he rolls out the tension in his shoulders.The false alarm doesn’t stop his questions, though, and I’d guess maintaining our conversation is more of a fear-reduction technique than a do-over for our bad first date.
“So, what’s the first rule of slashers?”he asks as we walk farther down the hallway, and that surprises me.It’s the classic marker of the original slashers from the seventies and eighties.The way you can identify the inimitable Final Girl—the conventionally attractive, doggedly determined heroine who hacks down the killer—among the other nubile, soon-to-be-dead teens.
“You don’t know?”
“I told you, I’m more of a Sandra Bullock fan.”
He’s half joking, but I get the feeling he’s aSpeedrepeater.
Wes does his usual “every angle” observation before looking back down at me, one brow quirked.I try to maintain eye contact, but it’s no use.I avert my gaze down to the petals.“Don’t have sex.”
“Sorry?”
I glance up to see the other eyebrow has joined its friend, high in the middle of his forehead.
“That’s the rule.If you have sex, you die.”
His eyes narrow in thought, like he’s considering the two options that rule presents, then he looks over at the entrance of the corridor, breathing out a sigh.
“Damn.”
At first I think he’s disappointed thatthat’sthe rule.Like getting lucky was high on his list of things to do tonight, right under “avoid a mass murderer,” but then I look down and see the rose petals have stopped at the edge of the carpet.The whole point of a trail is to lead to something, right?But we’ve just followed them right back around to where we were standing at that first crossroads.I can see the bar on the edge of the dance floor straight ahead, and if we turn left we should see the others waiting for us.
We would’ve noticed the trail if it had been there from the start.So that means whoever is doing this has been mere steps away from us this whole time.And the idea the killer could have snuck up on Laurie and the others while Wes and I were following his trail makes the espresso martinis churn in my stomach.It makes my hand sweat around the straps of my heels, but it also just makes me… confused.
I think Wes is right: the trail was deliberate.It was a message.If I were to go a step further, I’d say it was symbolic.You don’t need to have studied romantic movies to know roses equal love.I just can’t figure out why they’re here in the middle of a massacre.
We complete the final turn, and I see the rest of the group exactly where we left them, standing in the corner with their backs against the wall.The bloodstain on the floor has stopped a few feet from encroaching on their “safe” area, and as we hurry down the corridor, Billie, Jennifer, and Laurie all jerk their heads in our direction.They each have varying degrees of relief and expectation etched on their faces, but all I have to do is shake my head and they know.We didn’t find a way out.
Wes stiffens beside me, slows down.It draws my attention away from the three women, and that’s when I realize someone is missing.
“Where the hell is Campbell?”Wes blurts out, and I can’t believe I didn’t notice earlier.
Well, actually I can.This is Campbell we’re talking about.If anyone was going to run as soon as possible, it was him, and whenLaurie informs us that he all but sprinted away as soon as we were out of sight, I can’t rustle up any kind of surprise.
Billie snorts from where she’s still propped in the corner, arms folded across her chest as she remarks, “Well, he was pretty flighty during our date, so at least he’s consistent.”
“Where the fuck would he have gone?”I ask, but it’s more a general exclamation rather than something that requires answering.
Campbell hasn’t displayed any kind of instincts in the time he’s been part of the group, and I just can’t help but think this is the kind of decision that gets you killedearlyin the first act of a slasher.
“Should we look for him?”Jennifer asks, following Laurie and joining me and Wes in the hallway.They both immediately place their backs against the opposite wall, so they have a 180 view.
Smart women.
It’s Jennifer’s cautious concern, teamed with her general wholesome aura, the fact she’s brunette… I shouldn’t be thinking it, but she’s got all the indicators of becoming a Final Girl.I push that thought away as quickly as it comes because there’s only one way someone becomes a Final Girl.When the rest of us are dead.
“We stick to the plan,” Wes murmurs as Laurie tries to swap out our weapons.I push her bottle away.Using broken bottles to defend ourselves seems laughable now.They aren’t enough to go up against someone who has killed seven people in the last hour or so.It’d be like trying to fight a samurai with a toothpick.But I want her to have the bigger bottle, the sharper one, just in case.
“We go and wait on the dance floor for the others.Hopefully they found a way out,” Wes says.“And we just have to hope Campbell hasn’t gotten himself killed.”
“Yay,” Billie says, finally pushing off the wall and joining our group.“Can’t wait to see how this turns out.”
That’s how we find ourselves moving back down the corridor,turning away from the end of the rose petal trail and coming into view of the bar that takes up an entire edge of the dance floor.I can’t help but glance up at the mezzanine above it.That’s where we’re going to have to move our search if the others haven’t found an exit.Considering the evolution of Cravin’ into Serendipity seems to be more of a facelift rather than anything structural, I know what to expect up there.It’ll be larger, more hallways, more rooms, more dead ends.It’ll be so much easier to get lost.So much easier to be found…
The glint of the railing catches my eye, and it’s not the first time I’ve considered how dangerous it is to have this open space above the dance floor.Not when it would be so easy to fall over the edge and end up on the bar.Or maybe that’s just from watchingChopping MallandDeath Ship.Those railings just give you a little more flair as you’re plummeting to your death.
