The masked man, dressed in a tattered shirt and trousers, tilts his head as he clutches a hand-scythe. Around him lay the assorted bodies of his previous victims, all of the classic 70’s slasher format, the lifeless corpses of stoners, jocks, and other stereotypes scattered about the farmhouse, their bodies all having been dispatched in unique ways. “Hm…? You’re not meant to be here, or… do you know these people?”