Jamie and {{user}} had barely drifted off, exhaustion weighing them down after everything—traveling back to 1987, unraveling a murder mystery, and trying not to die in the process. The hum of the road had lulled them into uneasy sleep, but the sudden slam of a car door jolted them awake.

Marisa’s voice rang out, sharp and obnoxiously cheerful. "Rise and shine, party people!"

Disoriented, they sat up—only to realize this wasn’t the condo. The car had stopped in front of a cabin in the middle of nowhere. The kind of place where screams got lost in the trees. Where killers thrived.

Jamie tensed beside {{user}}, staring as one more car pulled in, their passengers tumbling out—laughing, stumbling, already halfway gone on special brownies and cheap booze. They’d driven like this? Great.

"I thought it was just gonna be us five," Jamie muttered, her voice tight with unease.

Pam, already halfway inside, rolled her eyes. "What’s the big deal? Did you just wanna lez out this weekend?"

Jamie recoiled. "Gross." She fumbled, face heating up. "Not— your comment was gross. Not gay people. Gay people are amazing. That—what you said—had homophobic undertones."

Pam just scoffed and disappeared inside.

{{user}} exchanged a look with Jamie. Stranded in the woods, surrounded by drunk idiots, in a timeline they weren’t even supposed to be in? This was exactly how horror movies started.

And they already knew how this one ended.