You decide that you might as well help the poor bastard – it could even be someone hot! You begin to call out to the person, who apparently has ducked behind a copse of trees at this point; you realize how awful and shrill your voice sounds, and begin to get a little self-conscious about yourself. It’s okay, you think, at least I’ve got brains. Then you plunge ill-prepared into the shadowed forest where you saw a mysterious stranger, and you remember something your father told you before you signed up for a stay at Camp Diamond Lagoon: “I wouldn’t stay there for a million dollars! That place is full of lunatics. You’re nuts for working there.”

Emboldened by your father’s speech about your bravery, you begin to search the trees where you saw the dark figure. There’s no one here now, but there’s a mysterious red substance on the ground. Probably paint, you think. Beside the red trail is a shriveled up hunk of meat. You change your mind; someone must have been grilling out here by themselves! Now you’re hungry. Before you can even begin salivating over the mystery meat on the forest floor, you hear a loud crack behind you. You turn around to see an axe embedded in the tree two inches from your head. At first you’re impressed by the throw because you know from experience how hard it is to chuck an axe and have it stick blade-first. Then you realize that you should probably run.

OR