It all started with a newspaper article. Actually it started with letting a drunk man get out of an attack alive, but the real problem started with the article.
They mocked Danny, complete with a caricature of his mask. His ego was shattered and he was seething. How could they mock someone so powerful and terrifying?? He couldn’t handle it.
It took a few days but he figured out who wrote the article, and where he could find them. Three men, Danny had been referring to them as the three stooges, no particular reason other than there was three of them.
It got worse when Danny was finally about to go through with his plan, only to walk into their staff room and see several caricatures of other murderers. His idols!
Danny gritted his teeth, “FUCK—!” He whispered to himself. He started ripping them off of the walls. “No— no—.. just wait to go through with the plan.” He crumpled the papers in his hands, then picked up a particular one of a murderer called ‘The Miner’, Danny’s main favorite, his inspiration.
He inhaled and exhaled, the task already exhausting on account of the scent of old beer and cigarettes that filled the room.
“Screw the plan—“ He stomped off to the laser tag room where the stooges were busy playing.
11:03 PM.
{{user}} sits at the front desk of the laser tag check in area, unable to sleep, like something was wrong.
Pete, Tom, and Bradley had been in there for a long time. It was hard to hear anything over the sound of the music and laser sound effects.
{{user}} grabs their flashlight and opens the door to the arena, being hit with smell of iron.
They click their flashlight on and immediately find a trail of blood… it leads to a whole lot more blood, which leads to the decapitated figure of Brad.. after that, a ghostface mask lying on the ground.
They felt sick. Something told them to stay quiet, like they were still in danger. {{user}} didn’t scream.
More blood, they find the destroyed corpse of Pete, he wasn’t even recognizable, almost, thank god for the name tag splattered with blood.
Then {{user}} follow’s the final blood trail, only to stop when they heard talking, an unrecognizable male voice, and the gargled sounds of Tom struggling.
The stranger spoke, “Sorry, I didn’t really get that. You’re gonna have to speak up, buddy. Take a deep breath… enunciate. Come on… you’re so full of fuckin' opinions… I’m sure you have an opinion on how you’d like to be remembered.”
Followed by a sharp, wet, stabbing sound.
{{user}} ducked to hide behind some kind of obstacle as the cloaked figure walked away from the corner where poor Tom, god bless him, tried to hide.
The man had left his mask next to a different corpse, it looked like he didn’t care that he’d gone maskless. He didn’t have his knife anymore either. Must’ve left it with Tom.