It'd been such a long night, and Amber was, like, totally beat! Even cutting all of her classes and sleeping until one hadn't been much help because there was just totally too much to do on a Friday night. It was the best being a Tri-Delt, and the guys from Pika were so cute, but after midnight the bars just started to blur! This guy Brad, one of the Pika guys, had this fake ID, so after Shooter's and Niffer's had carded them (and that totally sucked!), they'd gone to the Pika house and had beer and wine coolers with this really awesome stereo system that thumped, like, right through the floor. This guy Boozer was laying on the floor with a funnel in his mouth, and then he'd come right up to her, and he bet she couldn't funnelshoot, and well then she totally had to then! Boozer poured the beer in and it got all over her best Tri-Delta sweatshirt with the triangles on the front, but she'd drunk everything that got into her mouth and Brad was totally like, looking at her! It was awesome.

Now, it was really late, like two or three in the morning, and she was so tired and really, really thirsty, but for some reason she just wasn't ready to sleep.

What she really felt like doing was...

"Hey, Amber!" Chrissy was standing in the doorway, wearing a Tri-Delta T-shirt and a pair of lacy panties. That was really weird, but somehow it didn't bother Amber tonight. "We're all going to take off our clothes and have a pillow fight in front of the windows! Come on!"

Yeah!  That's what she wanted to do!

Soon Amber and twenty other Tri-Delts were down in the first-floor lounge, giggling and hitting each other with pillows as they hastily stripped out of their jeans and T-shirts. Some of them even stopped to put on their sexiest panties -- no cotton here! It was great! Oh, Okay, like, there was this sort of funny feeling that this was, like, a little weird, but it was so much fun that
Amber didn't think about it much. She hit Nikki with a pillow and giggled, then bounced away toward the window. Of course she didn't look out of the window, because the pillow fight was a lot more fun than looking to see if anyone could see in! It was really nice having the drapes pulled back like that, though... maybe later, after the pillow fight, she'd stand in the window and play with herself for a while!

Orchid snickered, looking in the window from the hedge outside. She shook her head in disbelief, then looked over to Hack, who was staring through the window with that special obsessive, worshipful, lethal kind of attention that still made her a little nervous. The hockey mask didn't help. She was half-convinced that if she could ever get that thing off of him, Melvin Beckerwood was under there somewhere. But what the hell. It wasn't like she was going back to being Jane Orcrest any time soon. Sometimes you had to go with the choices life handed you.

"Isn't this the scene out of I Spit on Your Grave III: Rise of the Blood Nymphos?"

Hack stared through the window like a cat about to pounce. It almost seemed he wasn't even breathing. It wasn't like Orchid was expecting a response anyway. The electroshock treatments hadn't left all the synapses firing up there, and he hadn't had much use for a voice in the isolation cells --  not after he'd screamed himself raw, anyway. Orchid shook her head. She had plans tonight, but she almost hated to start. The anticipation was part of the pleasure, and poor Hack probably hadn't seen too much in the way of naked, nubile women in the asylum. Still, who knew when a passing security guard might notice something odd about the scene through the first floor windows of the Tri-Delta sorority house. She wanted to stay on task, and security guards weren't on the menu tonight. She slid slowly back from the window, placed her hand on Hack's shoulder, and pointed.

"Okay, see the one in the blue panties, and the blonde over there in the, um ... Okay, the one who's really a blonde? Those are mine. Those and one for Daxrathas -- you got it? Everyone else is yours. Those are mine." Damnit, I sound I'm talking to a four year old.

Hack's eyes gleamed with excitement as he nodded slightly. The only noise he made was an occasional heavily breathed exhale. She nodded, shaking out her hands nervously, getting ready for it.

"I'm gonna freak 'em. You ready?"

Hack slid Punishment out of its holster, caressed it hungrily, and gave a little groan of pleasure as the chainless blade lit up with the murderous Power he poured into it. An unearthly howl rose as the intense black glow of the power slid around the blade and whispered bloodlust. He looked up at Orchid, eyes glowing with purpose, and nodded. Orchid looked through the window, focused on the girls, then shot her hands up into the air as she rose to her feet and threw her head back to gaze skyward.

With a thunderclap of power, roiling black clouds shot through with bolts of energy swept inwards from all around, low to the ground, rushing in from the shadows and gathering strength as they boiled across the floor and over the figures of the girls. Frost bit the air and froze breath as the clouds drew together and swept up Orchid's body, twisting and funneling up it like an inverted lightning rod. She laughed with the rush of power as the energy surged into her, tinged deliciously with the terror it left behind in the now cringing girls. A moment later there was an explosion of glass and a demonic shriek from Punishment as Hack hurled himself through the window, and then the sweet screams of horror rang through the night.

Amber froze, the pillow still dangling from her hand. Her goose-fleshed body was trembling violently, and she thought that those low, whimpering, sobbing sounds might be coming from her. The hungry shriek of the chainsaw drove everything else from her mind as the evil figure in the hockey mask stalked forward, grabbed Trina by her hair and rammed the chainsaw into her stomach while her mouth was still saying "Wh... wh... what are you?"

Amber's sobs turned to screams as Trina collapsed in a pool of blood and the chainsaw seemed to howl in pleasure. She backed away, still shrieking, looking frantically around her for help. As her eyes ran over the three exits in the lounge, the stairs up to the dorm rooms, the telephone, the fire alarm, and the open window that the killer had just crashed through, Amber couldn't help feeling somewhere, deep down inside herself, that there was something important about them -- something she was supposed to remember.

But the haze of fear and horror was everywhere, and in desperation, she did the only logical thing: she hammered on the "up" button of the elevator, screaming and sobbing, until she was slammed against the wall by an agonizing pain in her back that seemed to drive right through her. She had only a few moments to live in the horrified understanding that it had driven right through her before she (rather gratefully) died.

Hack's 350-pound frame leapt up the stairs like a massive deformed cat, shaking blood and plaster from Punishment's blade. With every victim claimed Hack grew hungrier and more vicious. He needed more! These puny humans were fun to hack apart, but it was killing the Supers that stopped the pain... for a little. This should get the attention of a few Supers, and when it did, Hack would start his real hunt!

He reached forward to the sobbing girl in the blue panties and dragged her backward down the stairs by her ankle. He loved it when they crawled up the stairs. It was so nice, the way they went all weepy and crawly as their heads bounced down the steps. He flipped her over, enjoying the terror in her eyes as she stared up at the Mask, looking forward to planting Punishment right between those big, round, heaving, yummy boobs. Punishment really wanted it, too. Then he remembered the blue panties. It was hard. He really, really wanted to kill her, especially when she looked up all teary eyed, screaming, breasts bobbing up and down until he could barely think straight.

But Orchid was his friend. She needed this one. She was bad to Orchid, he remembered that part. As Orchid stepped forward out of the night, he picked the girl up by the hair and tossed her down the stairs to Orchid, glad to give her a present, then bounded up the stairs and on to joyous carnage.

Brittany slammed the door shut and threw herself back against it, panting. This was wrong. It was totally wrong. Locking herself in her closet had to be the stupidest thing she could do to escape a killer with a chainsaw. The door was flimsy and hollow, and there wasn't even a phone in here! What was she thinking? She wasn't stupid. She was smart. She was the brains of the freshman class. In fact, she'd been dangerously close to being kept around as a nuisance just to keep the GPA up until she'd scored big-time by bringing the Dance Dog to the End-of- the-Summer Dance.

Okay, that joke of a roommate had fallen into her lap, but it took effort to be the freshman delegate to the T-shirt committee and the only freshman in the sorority house. Thank God Tabatha Wyman got meningitis while there was still time to change rooms. Brittany had climbed far up the bloody flagpole of sorority status, and she hadn't done it by hiding in a closet like an idiot! Everyone who's ever watched a horror movie knows that any time a victim is hiding leaning with her back to the door, the killer... comes along and...

Brittany screamed as the chainsaw blade slammed through the flimsy plyboard an inch from her ear.

Orchid sighed, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. Good thing black doesn't show much. The blood was good, but it got cold so fast, and then it was just nasty. Worse than cold cream of potato soup. Hack liked to be thorough (well, that was one word for the decapitated, disemboweled body with its heart cut out she'd noticed on her way in), and that didn't leave much in the way of maimed and wounded to feed her own particular cravings. Just as well -- there was more at hand tonight than an attack of the munchies. She smiled and pushed back her long cape as she walked up the steps, watching the feeble movements of the girl on the landing. She seemed to be trying to crawl down the steps now -- how indecisive.

Orchid laughed as she reached the landing, planting the soles of her boots in front of the girl's nose. Trembling, the girl looked up, eyes travelling up the form that stood over her. Orchid knew what she saw:a tall, sleek, voluptuous shape, shining black from head to toe. The gleaming bodysuit with its buckles and lacing extended smoothly into the built-in boots and fingerless gloves, with the flowing black cape furling gently around her calves. Catwoman meets the Queen of the Undead, was her own personal description. Long, gleaming, nails; unearthly pale, smooth skin; sharp, stunning features framed in long black hair; faintly glowing eyes alight with the Power.

Orchid smiled down as the girl's eyes lit with hope.

"You... you're here to save us?"

Laughing, she reached down, gripped the girl by the throat, and lifted her easily up to bring her eye to eye.

"Guess again."

Brittany came slowly back to her senses, feeling unyielding cold under her body. Oh my God, she'd fainted. How stupid was that? She couldn't believe what an idiot she'd been - just like a screaming teenybopper in a horror flick.

With a sick feeling in her stomach, she opened her eyes. Somehow she knew that this wasn't over yet, and what she saw confirmed her suspicion. Chrissy was next to her, both of them strapped down on some sort of big metal table. The figure in the hockey mask was hovering over them, breathing heavily. Much to her embarassment, she screamed again, shrieking over and over until someone reached around from behind and covered her mouth. Gulping, she stopped, and a voice spoke from behind her. It was cool, quiet -- and female.

"Thanks, Hack. That was good work."

The hockey-masked figure straightened a little, proudly, and stepped back. Then a woman dressed in some sort of black leather bodysuit and cape stepped into her field of vision. Oh my God. This is just like Pulp Fiction. They're going to do something really, really sick to us.

Brittany did her best to glare at the woman and look unbeaten.

The woman didn't seem to notice. She sat down in a chair, looking at Brittany and at Chrissy, whose eyes were wide and terrified. After a moment, she spoke.  "Brittany Phillips. Chrissy Kane. It's so nice to see you both. I have a little present for you. It's from a mutual friend -- you might remember her? Her name is Jane. Jane Orcrest."

Chrissy's eyes went wider still. "J-Jane Orcrest? She did this?"

Brittany swore at Chrissy mentally. She always was the weak link in any chain. "I don't know anyone named Jane Orcrest."

The woman smiled. "That's unfortunate. She knows you. Roommate? A dance she went to? A dance you convinced her to go to? Does that bring any memories back?"

Chrissy leapt at her chance. "It was all Britanny's idea! I didn't want to! I liked Jane! I didn't do it!"

The woman's smile grew wider and deliberately patient, and her voice was a dangerous purr. "Of course not. Unfortunately, it was you who called the animal control officers to her biology class to deal with a vicious dog, wasn't it? Weren't you the one who smeared her clothing with wet dog food while she was in the swimming pool? And I believe it was you who posted her picture on your dorm room door with the name 'Fido' over it."

Chrissy shook her head, mumbling denials, as Brittany's heart sank. Whatever that dog Orcrest had dreamed up by way of revenge, it wasn't going to be a practical joke. Her stomach turned as she thought of the scene in the lounge. These two costumed freaks killed for fun.

The woman nodded as Chrissy trailed off into incoherence. "Now that we all know who we are and why we're here, let's have a little preview." She turned and drew aside a curtain behind her, revealing the far end of the room. They seemed to be in a basement somewhere, but no where that Brittany knew. Several scantily clad figures were huddled together against the wall. As she approached, the woman drew a slender, gleaming dagger from her belt and tapped it idly against her leg. She looked long and hard at the girls in front of her, and they stared back like rabbits in a car's headlights.

"You will tell me the truth. Who here is really a nice person?"

Two of the girls raised their hands, and the woman nodded as she beckoned them forward and stared into their eyes.

"You will walk up those stairs and go home to your parents. You've decided that you don't like it at this college. You will never come to this campus again. You will remember nothing that has happened tonight."

The two girls nodded and walked up the stairs immediately. The man in the hockey mask looked longingly after them, but the woman shook her head and looked at the three girls left.

"Now, who here is really mean?"

One girl -- it looked like Lisa Haller -- raised her hand, and the other two pointed at her.

"Lisa, tell us something about yourself."

Lisa nodded eagerly and spoke. There was something eerie and unnaturally happy about her, as if she was delighted to cooperate. "I'm a mean, vapid, cruel person. I love making fun of people who aren't as good as me. I gave Brittany and Chrissy lots of ideas for making fun of Jane Orcrest. I shoplift, too!" She smiled as she finished.

The woman nodded, chuckling a little. "And do you have any redeeming features, Lisa?"

Lisa tilted her head to the side, looking thoughtful. "I suck pretty good dick?"

The woman grinned. "You'll do. Hack, would you please escort these other two ladies to their rooms?"

The man in the hockey mask moved forward and led the two upstairs. Brittany watched in stunned amazement as the two girls smilingly went with him up the stairs. A moment later the chainsaw roared, and the man came back down the stairs with the blade of the weapon still dripping blood.

The woman nodded and handed the dagger to Lisa, staring directly into her eyes. "Lisa, you hate being a mean, cruel person, don't you?"

Lisa nodded, never taking her gaze from the woman's. "I do! It really sucks."

"It does. In fact, it sucks so badly that you'd like to put an end to it. Why don't you take this dagger and stab yourself in the heart? It'd be best if you did it over the pentacle drawn on the floor there."

Lisa took the dagger happily, then looked puzzled. "Umm... pentacle?"

The woman pointed to the floor. "It's that star in a circle drawn on the floor in silver powder. Just lean down over it, and say the word 'Daxrathas' as you do it."

Lisa nodded cheerily, ponytail bouncing, and knelt down on the floor by the pentacle. Brittany screamed for her to stop, but a moment later, with a perky cry of "Daxrathas!", she hurled herself forward and rammed the dagger into her heart. As her blood seeped across the floor, the woman looked on with a satisfied air and murmured,

"Sorry, Daxrathas. I know you prefer virgins, but this is a college town."

She turned to her two remaining victims, who eyed her with sick horror. "Now, I know that you think I'm going to kill you now ... or maybe that I will let my friend here kill you." The figure in the hockey mask waved the chainsaw briefly and lurched toward them until the woman put a hand on his shoulder. "But I'm not. I have something a little more amusing in store for you." She took a small remote control from her belt, aimed it at the two, and pressed a button. Brittany heard the rattle of chains, and felt a sharp thud and then increasing pain in her wrists and ankles. Turning her head frantically from side to side, she saw heavy weights hanging from the cuffs that held her in place on the table.

"Yes, those will get rather uncomfortable. They also have a tendency to malform the joints if the pressure is maintained long enough. Fortunately, you won't have to wait too long. You might still be able to walk if the acid falls fast enough."

Sick to her stomach, Brittany looked up. Above her, hanging from the ceiling, was a glass globe with two pipettes extending from the bottom. The mouths of the pipettes were over the faces of the girls on the table.

"We wanted to give you a sporting chance," continued the women, "so the acid should run out without killing you. Don't worry if it doesn't quite eat through the shackles; if you're not loose in three days, we'll let the police know where you are. Unfortunately, you won't be able to tell them anything about what happened."

Brittany felt her mind twist, knew immediately that the woman was right. She knew nothing. As Chrissy's screams rose to a crescendo, the woman started up the stairs, the hockey-mask man ahead of her. She paused to look back with a gentle smile.

"Oh yes. Do have a nice life."
 

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