How does a simple invitation to a party Become the catalyst for The Dead’s games? We arrive at End House in our party clothes, Not suspecting the horrors that lie in wait. The door bell gongs through the empty rooms As a cold wind pushes us inside. Candlelight flickers down the right hallway And up the gargoyle-protected staircase. We stand huddled together in fear, Afraid to take another step into the unknown. Two groups search the house for the missing host, But no signs of a party can be found. The empty rooms yield no people, Only the smell of fear and the dying.
My group trudges down the basement stairs. All too soon we are trapped behind the locked door. The basement floor is filling with water. What was once dry is now wet and cold. Clanging noises fill the thick air around us, Revealing cages with sharp metal spikes. They descend from the ceiling by chains, Converging on Edward who’s trapped in the pool. Tim screams in despair over his roommate And jumps into the dark water to save his friend. He falls face first into the black water As circular saws descend to join the game. Edward dodges the deadly devices, Bringing Tim to safety on the opposite side. They disappear through a doorway That quickly dissolves back into the stone wall.
I refuse to play this game any longer. I must escape from this so-called party. I will try one of the three new doors That have appeared on the opposite wall.
The third door yields a round bricked tower With a gated opening at the top. I slowly climb the sharp bricks, Using my hands and feet to pull myself up.
A loud noise comes from above. The gate is crashing down to one side. Of course, it’s the side that I’m clinging to. I close my eyes and say a quick prayer. The heavy gate somehow misses me, Loosening dozens of bricks on its way down. I could’ve been swatted like an ant, But for some reason I’ve been spared.
Mike refuses to check any more doors After the one he checks yields a bottomless pit. It’s all left to David to open the last door To find a possible escape from this hell hole Our games have just begun. THE DEAD GAME
The river flows black in the night. People jostle me to stand by the railing. I first see the colors. Hot glows of red, orange, yellow. Then I hear the explosion. Loud and deafening. My ears begin to ring. The bridge is in flames. The beautiful Brooklyn Bridge. Pieces of metal land in the water. Cries fill the cold air. How did I get here? The crowd pushes away from the bleak scene. I’m lost in the midst of the throng. It moves like one. With one mind and purpose. To seek shelter from the raining pieces. Once we reach the buildings, The crowd spreads out like ants. Someone takes my hand and pulls me. We check out the first building. The metal door is locked and bolted. So is each door we check. Finally, we find an open door. Sounds of sirens follow us inside. The door shuts behind us. We seem to be in a parking lot. Who am I with? I look up and can’t see his face. He grunts and pulls me down the ramp. I dig in my feet. I refuse to follow him. I must see his face. He turns to me… I wake up. It was a terrible dream. But I still wonder What his face looked like.
A hand beckons. The gate opens. A wind swirls around us. The air feels alive. Should we enter? A mysterious invitation. To a secret party.I feel my body being pushed forward. We have no choice. An invisible hand propels us. To do its bidding.
We’re here. What now? Do we meet our elusive host? It’s dark in this house. With only a few candles for light. There doesn’t seem to be a party.
Too late. The door slams shut behind us. I can hear it being locked and bolted. We’re stuck for now. In this house of horrors.