Don't judge me. I brought you two new 2 Ball updates and yes, we're nearly done and that's on my mind, but BUT...it's October. And...I don't think I've done anything Halloweeny since I've been on the site. I did want to start Season 2, but I didn't have a Halloween episode (I have since added one), but then...inspiration. So, long story short, I played the demo for Resident Evil 7 on this past Sunday and it terrified me. I've also since learned that I only experienced ONE ending. Delightful! Anyway...it was too good to resist, so...here's your scary story for October 2016! AND...it's gonna be a yearly series, like Treehouse of Horror. At least I hope so. We'll see. Anyway...here we go! Oh! Before I forget: Hey kids! This is a scary story based on a scary video game that is not at all marketed to children. So scary imagery and bumps in the night here. Reading discretion is advised. October 15th, 2016 11:25PM Location: Redison Farmhouse Inside M00f615 tx-52 “KITCHEN” Found within same house as seen in footage 00 : 00 : 07 : 25 The video tape began at the 7 minute and 25 second mark, however actual video didn’t come onscreen until about five minutes later. Despite the current times, the video was in black and white, but the scene seemed clear enough. As the title stated, filming seemed to have taken place within the kitchen, a dilapidated room, seemingly left to rot until the intrusion of the lone frog who was moving slowly on the floor. The body groaned, as though in pain, as it moved from its back to its side. Raising its hands to its face, the discovery of rope wrapped around its wrists seemed to startle it into a more wakeful state. “What?” it muttered, revealing the scratchy voice to belong to a male frog, highly confused and obviously suffering from whatever had laid him out on the blood-soaked floor. Another groan caused the frog to look up at the camera or rather, at the person who was possibly recording the video. It was clear however that the frog knew the camera person, as he uttered an “Oh no” when he saw them. Whoever was controlling the camera seemed to be coming to, just as the frog had. As the camera person moved, so did the second person in the room, causing the frog to try to get up from the floor. The video skipped a section. Now, the frog was rushing over to the second person. “You alright?” he asked. The camera moved up and down, once, then twice, signaling that the second person was coming around and seemed to be fine. However, upon raising their hands, they were in the same predicament as the frog – rope was wrapped around their wrists. Again, the video skipped and moved on to the frog looking around the floor until he dropped to his knees, sliding slightly through a pool of blood. Making a disgusted sound, he turned back towards the second person, this time a butcher knife held in his left hand. “We gotta get outta here,” he panted, trying his best to cut the rope around his companion’s wrists. However, the knife wasn’t cutting and the rope wasn’t budging. Muppet Horror Story presents: House of Horrors Pain. Confusion. If I had to give a name to what I was feeling at the moment, it was those two things. Thankfully, the pain seems to be receding as I open my eyes, but that only gives way to confusion. Where was I? And how did I get here? Where I was looks to be a room and I have apparently just woken up on the floor, seemingly between a rust colored leather arm chair and a small coffee table. I sit up on my knees. I’m in complete darkness. No. Wait. That wasn’t true; there was a sliver of light coming from…me, as though I’m holding a flashlight, but I’m not. My hands are completely free. Instinct takes over, as I pat myself down, checking for any type of injury and thankfully finding none. However, I do find the source of light – it is coming from me, or rather a small headlamp that I have wrapped around my forehead. That’ll be useful. Still on my knees, I move my head slowly to gather my surroundings. I’m in a…sitting room or a den. There’s a second leather chair further away and on the table, there’s two cups and a kettle. Was I in here earlier drinking tea? A broken cell phone in the middle of the table catches my eye. Is it mine? If so, it’ll be no help to me. For some reason, I grimace in pain. This was an expensive phone and I can just feel a bill coming to me from my boss. Near the cups is a note. Perhaps my host left it for me, which would be helpful. I’d like to know where I was and how I got here, everything is so fuzzy and I’m having a desperate time trying to remember. Reaching out, I pick up the note and read it. I will slay them all What. The. What. I’m not going to even bother to figure what this hot mess could possibly mean because I’m getting out of here. Using the table, I get to my feet and stagger slightly as the room sways for a second. I’m starting to get a picture here and it’s not something I like – I’ve been drugged. Obviously. One of those cups must have been mine. That’s problem number one. Problems number two through a hundred are all going to be centered on why the heck I’ve been drugged, what the heck I’m doing here, who the heck the host was, why the heck he or she is trying to kill me, and so on and so on. Back to my initial ‘I’m getting out of dodge’ idea, I start slowly looking around. There’s a TV in the back-right corner behind and it’s on, showing nothing but static. There’s no sound, so it must be on mute. Had we been watching TV? Walking slowly to it, I see it’s connected to a VCR. In this moment, when most of my thoughts are focused on getting out of here, a sudden thought of why a person would have a VCR in this day and age hits me. It was all about the streaming now, though some people still had Blu-ray and DVD players. Actually, I guess it’s not so weird. I still have my old VCR, not that I use it. I’ve gotten into streaming. I’m hip! I’m with it! Thinking that whatever we watched had reached its end, I hit the eject button, but nothing happens. Lifting the lid, I can see why. There’s no tape in here. Okay. Dead end. Ugh, why did I have to say dead? I take a step and start turning to the left. Wherever I was, this was not a modern home. Not because of the VCR, mind, but because of the peeling wallpaper and dust covered walls. Turning to the left, I walk towards an old empty bookcase that’s up against the wall next to a burnt-out fireplace. There’re no books, just one picture of a flower and two metal containers. I hate to rifle through someone else’s belongings, but I’m trying to escape and maybe there’s something important inside. I try to pick the first one up, but find it’s immoveable and so is the second one, like they’re glued to the bookcase. Okay. Turning again to the left again, I scan the mantel of the fireplace, but nothing catches my eye. Well, almost nothing. There was a picture on the wall of a middle-aged couple, happy and smiling. I don’t know who they are, but wondering if one or both had been my host. But if so, why would they want to drug me? Nice middle-aged couples don’t drug people. Usually. Most of the time. Looking and turning, I examine the room to the best of my abilities; across from me, on the other side of the room was an upright piano, but it was the fuse box next to it that held my attention. Quickly hurrying towards, my happiness is soon dashed. Out of four fuses, only three are still inside. Taking another turn around the room, I come to a disappointing conclusion – I need to leave the room. And that terrifies me. So far, I’ve been relatively safe in this room, but who knows what kind of trouble I’ll encounter if I leave. Taking a deep breath, I take a few steps towards the door. As I take a few steps, my feet feel heavy on the floor and I immediately stop. Was that me? Or someone outside the door? I don’t hear anything else so I quietly go to the door and open it. Looking both ways, I hold my breath in case something will happen, but nothing does. It seems my room isn’t the only dark part of the home – the hallway was dark too, with only my headlamp broadcasting a small circle of light in which to lead me. Stepping out into the hallway, I look left, then right. To my right is another door; to my left is the continuation of the hallway, ending at a boarded-up window. A broken cabinet has been thrown down in front of it, splintering out in the case. Left seems to be the way to go, so that’s where I head, passing by a small end table as I go. There’s a single lamp sitting on it, its light reflecting in the hazy mirror above it and casting my shadow against the aging staircase. I won’t lie. I jumped a little at seeing it before I realized it was just my shadow. This feels like the start of a horror movie. Not sure why I’m thinking that, but I am. Here I am, in an abandoned house, possibly drugged by the caretakers, who seemed to have disappeared and there are no lights because…I don’t know and don’t care. I have renewed my efforts to just leave. The hallway table has two drawers, but only one opens. There’s a mannequin’s finger inside and I immediately close the drawer. I will not ask any questions other than ‘how do I get out of here?’ Heading towards the window, I pass by the staircase that leads up to the second floor, which is also dark. I’ll leave that as a very last resort, as in I will jump from the second floor if it means I can escape. Past the staircase is the entrance to the kitchen. Even from the hallway, I can smell the rotting food and decay, causing my stomach to turn slightly. I enter it rather quickly, passing by a small table before reaching the actual kitchen. Ugh, the smell is much stronger in here, probably due to the uneaten food that’s been left on two plates sitting on the kitchen table. Turning from the sight and smell, I see a small microwave on the counter and open it, immediately turning in discuss upon seeing a dead crow inside. What was that? Were those footsteps? I stand still, listening, but the noise is gone. However my sense of preservation is not and is only heightened. I’m fairly sure that I’m not alone, which means I needs to go. Looking around the kitchen, I walk around the dining table towards a large cabinet; it’s empty and one of its glass doors is just hanging from its hinges. But underneath it are a set of drawers and I eagerly open both and once again, find nothing. My frustration is building, but not as much as my fear. I’m really getting the sense that there’s someone else and it scares me to the core. There’s another entrance out of the kitchen, where a dresser currently stands. Walking quickly, I stand in front of the doors, but find that they are chained up. Why would anyone put a chain on a dresser? Because they don’t want someone to find out what’s inside! Duh! Which means, brain, there is something awesome in this dresser and I hope that awesome something is a clue on how to get out of here. Turning around, I see I’m in another hallway and at the end is another door. At some point, one of these doors is my way out and that’s what I’m looking for. Striding forward, I open the door and walk in to…I don’t even know. It’s another short hallway and another door in sight, possibly the front door, but that’s not what I’m registering. It’s the bodies. There are bodies on the floor. Bodies. Bodies of…I don’t know. Oh my god. There are bodies on the floor! They’re large and…ripped open. Their skins lay on top of bones, barely actually because I can see the bones; their ribcages. They were…large…animals, maybe? Cows? Oh god, pigs? Geez, I really hope not. I’m really hoping I didn’t know these guys. I want to stop staring, but I can’t, but that’s when my eyes pick up something that’s protruding out of one of the bodies. It’s red…no, the handles, two handles are red. Steeling my courage, I grab the object and pull it from the corpse. Bolt cutters? Bolt cutters! That’s good! I can cut those chains off the dresser and hopefully find the answer to leaving here. Baby tap dancing Jesus! Something just fell from the ceiling! Bending slightly, I see it’s just a doll. Right. Dolls fall from ceilings all the time. Okay. Oh, wait. My brain’s telling me something. “Hey dummy! Use the bolt cutters to break off the knob of that door. Or break a window!” All good suggestions, brain, except one thing. I’m assuming you can also hear the strange sounds in the house, the ones that don’t belong to us and suggest that someone else is here? I propose we do not alert them to our presence. Good point. But my brain also had a point. The bolt cutters could come in handy. Walking towards the door, I tried the knob. Locked. Of course. Maybe I could use the bolt cutters and…no. No, these bolt cutters are for the chains on that dresser and when opened, I will find said key to this door and I will escape into the hopefully morning or afternoon air, in which I will then get the H-E-double hockey out of dodge! With an even more stronger purpose of getting out of here, I retrace my steps back to the dresser with the chains on it and, using my trusty bolt cutters, snip the chains in half. Freedom, here I come! I open those dresser doors and… No key. Nothing much, actually. Just this video tape. Why would anyone hide a video tape in a dresser? Wait a tick…this has got to be a clue. I woke up in a room with a VCR, but no tape and now, I have found a tape. So there must be something important on this tape! This tape could be exactly what I’ve looking for, but that means I have to make my way back through the kitchen, down the hall, and back to the room I awoke in. Not ideal, but this tape could hold answers. Maybe it’ll explain why I’m here and why I woke up in that room. Even better, maybe it’ll tell me how to get out of here. Trepidatious but resolved, I make my way back through the kitchen, down the hall past the staircase, and into my little previous room. But things are different now. The once silent TV is now on full blast, the sounds of static frightening me. When I was last in here, that TV had no sound or was at very least on mute and now it’s blaring at its top volume. I’ve got no time to ponder that. Shaking off the fear, I march straight to the TV and pop the tape in and wait. I just hope I haven’t made a grave mistake.