I don’t know what I grab, I think an extra toilet paper roll, but I launch it through the air. It hits her before she shuts the front door again, saying, “Ow.”
“Heard you had quite the morning with the showers.” A kind-faced man smiles next to me in line at the cafeteria. I recognize him.
Last year at the party, his wife was Pennywise, and he was the balloon. It was hilarious. I just can’t remember his name.
“Hi ... yeah, it was terrifying,” I chuckle, trying to seem friendly, even though I’m not really in the mood to people. So much so, I came straight to the cafeteria after taking a shower ... with the curtain open.
“I feel like I should apologize,” he presses, accepting a roll on his tray.
“Ah,” I say, half smiling. “You must be part of the team that arrived Monday.”
“Guilty.” He winces.
I nod as the cafeteria lady holds up a spoon with some kind of hash-looking stuff.Man, I miss Chase... Fuck, I can’t even escape Noah-adjacent thoughts.
“Well,” I breathe out as I turn my face to my new friend. “As the head of research and development, I can say if you’re aiming for people to have a heart attack before showering, you’re on your way.”
He chuckles, and I take a scoop of the weird runny potato-like substance. “Are they feeding us the same stuff they give the kids? Because I think that’s child abuse. We should call someone.”
“What do you mean?” he says, taking his turn with the same future food poisoning.
I motion with my head as I hold my tray. “You know, because the guy throwing this wants a whole realistic experience for everyone. Like this is what the kids would’ve had.”
“Oh yeah,” he chuckles. “I thought that you meant this camp was still active. Like you thought kids had just been here.”
I start to say something, but he keeps talking.
“From what I’ve heard, Weonoke was a real camp. But it closed down. Some of the locals said it was the site of a massacre back in the mid-nineties.”
I suddenly realize I’m just standing there listening, but it looks like I’m waiting for him, so I turn to leave, but he follows. Still talking.
“Yeah, I guess some local kid who was a janitor went full slasher on the counselors at the end of the year, and it’s been closed ever since.”
What the fuck?I know this was the alternative to a heady situation back home, but I’m feeling like we jumped the gun.
I swallow hard. “I’ve never heard anything about that ... I feel like if this was true, Evie would’ve been salivating over it. She’s ... morbid.”
He smiles as if I’ve given her the greatest compliment as we put our trays down and sit.
“You know how it is with news that happened pre-internet.” I watch him dig into the potato massacre in current times, trying not to dry heave. “There’s probably a thousand and twelve things we’ll never hear about.”
I laugh nervously, hating every word he’s saying. “So many ... wow ... yeah, that’s a lot to think about. Especially since it’s such a specific number ... I don’t ...”Love that.
My sister’s voice bleeds in behind me, saving me from trying to hijack the death-log truck so I can escape.
“Russ, are you telling my sister that freaking urban legend nonsense? You’re really trying to make that happen, aren’t you? Gretchen Wieners, you gotta letfetchdie.”
She sits down next to me, and I look at her, wide eyed, as Russ ruminates on who Gretchen Wieners is.
“It’s not true,” she dismisses.
But Russ disagrees as he takes another bite of that gross shit. “All urban legends are based on some truth.”
I look down at the mush on my plate, then back at my sister. “I hate it here.”
She laughs. “I mean, if it was true, then we’d probably be in the cabin of a dead person ... You know, because we’re in the staff quarters. Ooo, who here has a Ouija board?”
Russ perks up as I shake my head.Yep. I absolutely hate it here.Before I can say anything, a voice invades the moment: “I do, but only if I can join in on the fun.”
