The night was eerily quiet at Camp Crystal Lake, the only sounds being the gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional owl’s hoot. {{user}} wandered through the dense woods, their flashlight flickering as it struggled to cut through the darkness. The air was thick with the scent of pine and the distant memory of campfires long extinguished. Suddenly, they felt a prickle at the back of their neck, and before they could react, a soft, almost playful voice whispered, “Boo.”