New to Bludgeoner? Start here.
Laughter echoed across Lake Conklin, a thin sheet of moonlight cast on its glassy surface. Stu tried to lose himself in the fun, to forget how he’d broken Christine’s heart just moments earlier, but the image of her pained expression wouldn’t leave his eyes.
“Hey, man,” Brandon slurred, wrapping an arm around Stu’s shoulder. “Whatever it is, you gotta let it go. This is supposed to be a party.”
Stu nodded, forcing a smile. He lifted his beer can to his lips, taking a long swig to drown the feeling. Feeling he’d succeeded, Brandon stood up quickly, almost tipping forward into the fire.
“Are we still playing this game or what?”
“Yeah, I’ve got one,” Roxy said, swaying slightly from her position by the fire. “Never have I ever lied about doing it with someone under the bleachers.”
It was silent. No one drank, not even Keith.
“That’s weird,” Roxy said sarcastically. “I could swear that would’ve gotten at least one of you.” She stared in Keith’s direction. After a moment, he took the bait.
“You wanna say something to me?”
“Nah,” she waved, “I’ll just spread it all over town behind your back. That’s how it works, right?”
Keith stood up from the log he shared with Jennifer, ready to fight, but Jennifer put a hand on his arm to stop him. He looked back at her, stuck between wanting to defend himself from Roxy and not wanting to ruin his chances with Jennifer.
“Chicken?” Roxy prodded. For a long moment, no one said anything.
“Maybe we should move onto a new game,” Christine offered.
“Aw, come on, it’s all in good fun,” Roxy protested, her cheeks red with drink. Keith closed his eyes and took a breath before sitting back down. “Aww, that’s a shame,” Roxy poked.
“How about we tell some ghost stories?” Brandon suggested.
“Yes! I love a good scary story,” Jennifer said, thankful for a way out of the awkwardness. The others eagerly agreed. Despite feeling annoyed that Keith didn't want to continue the fight, Roxy chose to let it go.
“I have one,” Eric said, surprising the group. He stood and moved toward the fire while they huddled up in anticipation. He adjusted his glasses and waited until they were all quiet, no one moving a muscle, to start his story.
“Deep in the heart of these woods,” he began, “a chilling presence lurks. A notorious serial killer known only as The Bludgeoner haunts these darkened trees, patiently stalking his unsuspecting prey.”
“This is gonna be good,” Jennifer said, and everyone shushed her. Eric’s expression grew more serious, the shadows under his eyes looking like they’d been carved in stone.
“The Bludgeoner is a creature of the hunt,” he continued, “uncaring, driven by an insatiable hunger for terror and bloodshed. With every kill he leaves a trail of unspeakable horrors in his wake.”
Eric looked around the group, meeting their wide-eyed stares one at a time. He chooses his victims with meticulous precision. He picks those who venture into the woods, unaware of the danger that awaits them.”
Christine hugged herself for warmth. Stu had the urge to put his arm around her and comfort her. He caught himself, though, realizing with deep sadness that he would never get the chance again. Eric leaned in closer, his voice growing deeper.
“Each night he emerges from his lair, armed with his trusty weapon. He strikes swiftly and mercilessly, his bludgeon pounding flesh and bone with savage precision. He shows no mercy and feels no remorse. Each life he extinguishes becomes another trophy to add to his twisted collection.”
Jennifer gulped, no longer sure she liked scary stories.
“So, my friends, heed this warning: should you ever find yourself wandering alone in these woods, keep a watchful eye over your shoulder. For the Bludgeoner waits, ready to pounce upon his next unsuspecting victim, and etch another name into his gruesome legacy…”
Eric trailed off, his voice replaced with the sound of crackling fire and uncomfortable shifting.
“Damn, Eric, that was intense,” Brandon said, casting a glance his way. “Are you alright?”
“Never better,” Eric replied. “At least, for now…” He widened his eyes cartoonishly large, then broke into a laugh. The tension released, everyone laughed and clapped and remembered the beer cans in their hands, taking big gulps.
The night wore on, the fire casting sinister shadows as it dwindled. Laughter and ghostly tales filled the air, but beneath it all the tension continued to fester like an open wound.
“Hey, Jen, I bet you can’t do a backflip,” Keith challenged, his voice slurred from one too many beers. He grinned at her with a glint in his eyes.
“Watch me,” Jennifer replied. She tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder and positioned herself away from the fire. With surprising grace for someone who’d been drinking, she executed a perfect backflip, landing squarely on her feet.
“Damn!” Keith exclaimed, his gaze lingering a little too long on her legs. Jennifer grinned, feeling a flush of warmth that had nothing to do with the booze or the fire.
“Your turn, football star,” she taunted, placing her hands on her hips. “Or are those muscles just for show?”
“Challenge accepted,” Keith replied. He took off his team jacket and tossed it to the side. Then he took a step back, preparing to attempt his own backflip.
“Wait!” Jennifer shouted, her eyes widening. She lunged forward, grabbing Keith’s arm just as he was about to launch himself into the air. “You’re too close to the fire!”
“Whoa, that was a close one,” Keith mumbled, realizing how close he’d come to making a painful mistake. He looked down at Jennifer’s hand on his arm. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through them both.
“Thanks,” he said, his voice quieter. As he held her gaze, the sounds of the party faded away into the background. For a moment, it was as if they were the only two people in the world.
“Hey, let’s get out of here for a bit,” Jennifer suggested, nodding toward the dark woods beyond the campsite. The party had grown rowdier with each passing minute—perfect cover for their escape.
“Lead the way,” Keith replied, grinning. He grabbed his jacket and they slipped away from the bonfire, their laughter muffled by the drunken shouts of their friends.
As they walked into the woods, the sounds of the party faded, replaced by an eerie silence that enveloped them. The moon cast long shadows across the forest floor.
“Scary out here,” Jennifer said, her voice barely above a whisper as she clung to Keith’s arm.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” he replied. They continued to walk, the rustle of leaves underfoot the only sound they could hear now. That was until a guttural growl came from behind a tangle of bushes not far off.
“Did you hear that?” Jennifer asked, stopping in her tracks.
“Probably just a raccoon or something.”
“Right,” Jennifer agreed, wanting to believe him.
“Come on, let’s find a spot to sit down.” He led her to a small clearing, where they settled down on a moss-covered log. As they sat, Keith couldn’t help but think how beautiful Jennifer looked with the moonlight highlighting her features. It was now or never, he figured. He leaned in for a kiss, his lips brushing against hers softly at first, then more passionately.
Pulling away from their kiss for a moment, Jennifer whispered breathlessly, “Promise me something?”
“Anything,” he responded, eyes locked on hers.
“Promise we’ll stay close. No matter what happens, we’ll stick together,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I know school is over and everything, but I don’t want us to become strangers.”
“We won’t,” Keith replied, tightening his grip on her hand. “Nothing will happen to us, I promise.”
Jennifer smiled. But just then, something over Keith’s shoulder caught her eye. She watched a dark figure emerge from the shadows, its movements slow and deliberate. She tried to say something but couldn’t form the words. The look of terror on her face was enough to make Keith turn around.
“Is that you, Dirty Harry?” Keith asked, standing up from the mossy log. “What did they tell you about the peeping Tom act, huh? You’re gonna lose your job if you …”
Keith trailed off as the dark figure took another step closer, allowing them to see his sheer mass. He was nearly the size of two men, though Keith struggled to make out any of his features other than a basic shape. His face was a dark void, one massive shoulder dropped lower than the other. He dragged something behind him that cut a line in the dirt and dead leaves.
“What do you want, weirdo?” Keith asked, trying to sound brave. He made his shoulders wide and put on a serious scowl, but the figure continued to walk toward them, neither fast nor slow, unaffected by his words. Keith held his ground, warning the man to back off, until he was nearly on top of him.
By then, it was too late to run.
Before he could react, the figure lurched back and lifted what he’d been dragging overhead. Keith stepped back as a massive, hammer-like tool flashed in the moonlight, slicing through the air.
“Keith!” Jennifer screamed as she watched the tool find its mark. The bludgeon struck the top of Keith’s head with such force that his skull split instantly, separating his handsome features. Blood sprayed across Jennifer’s face, hot and sticky.
Time slowed to a crawl. The world lost its sound as Keith’s body crumpled to the ground, spilling its blood into the dirt.
“No, no …” Jennifer whimpered, trying to scramble away, to claw her way over the mossy log, but her legs betrayed her. Paralyzed by fear, she only made it halfway over before the dark figure descended on her. Massive fingers wrapped around her ankle, yanking her back with such force she felt the earth pitch, then rise up and strike her in the ribs.
She fought to turn over, to face her attacker. It took everything she had to put the cold ground to her back. In return, she was given the brief image of an emotionless, metallic mask with two slits carved out. Through those slits, she glimpsed the most terrible eyes she’d ever seen, belonging to neither beast nor man. She tried to scream, to warn her friends, to cry to the heavens, but the sound never came.
Suggested Listening:
I liked it! Thank you!🙂