None of the brawling nutters notice as you slip from your seat and slip out of the closet, making your way quickly back to the bottom of the hall and the stairwell door. Ever-so-quietly, you turn the corner and tip-toe along the short passage, keeping one eye on the gap between the open double doors ahead and another on the scrapes and scratches on the floor tiles. As you suspected they lead right into the unlit room ahead, from which nothing but silence exudes. Arriving at the doors, you ease one of the heavy panels open just enough for you to side-step in, then find yourself in a world of darkness, unable to see or hear a thing. Placing your hand on the wall, you baby step to your right letting your fingers slide across the smooth surface as you search for a light switch. What you find instead is something ice cold and slimy, which makes you jerk your hand away as if electrocuted. “Do you want to put the light on, Mister Sneaky Man?” a blood-curdling voice gargles, and as you back away from whoever is standing there, a soft click reaches your ears and the chamber – a storage room of some kind – is flooded with light. Standing at the wall, with his hand on the light switch, is a hideous, green-skinned zombie...dressed in a pair of fetching, fire-engine red thongs. “Are you sure you want the light on, Mister Sneaky Man?” The zombie says, grinning as it saunters towards you. “No!” you shout, not in answer to the question but as a general expletive. You turn to flee but collide with the massive wall of matted, white fur that is blocking your path, causing you to crash to the ground instead. Not quite believing your eyes, you stare up at a gigantic, drooling polar bear...with sunken eyes and a massive hole in its side revealing black, shrivelled innards. You try to scrabble away but are stopped by another evil resident, who grabs you by the shoulders and hauls you to your feet. This one is some kind of zombie cyborg, who you recognise as Artie Gruber.
“You’re not going anywhere, jerk!” he spits, shoving you backwards. You find yourself surrounded then, by Artie, the zombie Shako, and the grinning Zombo, all of whom advance on you with slavering lips and hunger in their eyes. “We’re not allowed go to the party, Mister Finger Food,” Zombo says, “so thank you for coming to us. Can we eat you now?” It’s the last thing you hear as, in the next instant, the zombies are upon you...and your night at the party comes to a screaming, ripping, blood-spattered end.
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