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         It was after eleven on a Friday night in the middle of October. Wendy and her friends were walking aimlessly down some dark and abandoned side streets in Manhattan, attempting to find something exciting to do. They tossed around a few perfectly normal and potentially enjoyable ideas, deciding against each one. Finally, Wendy had a flash of brilliance.
         
         “Hey!” she announced. “Why don’t we find a creepy and decrepit house somewhere, and go exploring inside?”
         
         The idea was clearly a winner, so off they went. Conveniently, Wendy knew exactly where one was. And, it just so happened to be within walking distance. The group increased its pace. Only a few minutes later, they found themselves wandering down a shadowy gravel road densely lined by large trees. Who knew these even existed in New York City? It wasn’t until the house came into view that Wendy and the group had any second thoughts. The house was enormous and quite foreboding. It had two spindly turrets protruding from each side, a gate out front, and a moat (because that is an essential feature of any forbidden mansion). There weren’t any lights on.
         
         “Perfect, right?” Wendy said to the rest of the group. There was a short delay, but then all of her friends responded with enthusiasm. They came to the large gate, and it pushed open easily.
         “Hmm,” Wendy mused. “It must just be decorative.”

         They made their way across the short bridge over the moat, then climbed the massive staircase that led to the front door. When the reached the top, they were all exhausted. If they’d had more energy, they might have started panicking at this moment. Instead, Wendy sat down in front of the door, and her friends followed suit.
         “Well,” Wendy panted. “Maybe we should just go home. I don’t know if this is such a good idea.”
         
         The other members of the group began to nod in agreement, but then Lindsay (the Token Blonde with Extensive Cleavage) spoke up.
         “We can’t! I have to go to the bathroom,” she squealed.

         This appeared to be a legitimate excuse, and it seemed that they had no other option but to go inside and ask to use the restroom. They all stood up, and Wendy knocked on the door. They waited for a few moments, but didn’t hear anyone coming to greet them. Clearly, their only choice was to let themselves in. Lindsay and Wendy grabbed the handles of the extremely large doors and pulled them open. They creaked loudly, and the two girls entered, with Bridgette the Genius, Ben the Jock, and Adam the Tortured Artist following closely behind.

         Inside the entry hall, the walls were lined with torches and the floors were dusty. A large spiral staircase was ahead of them. The group stood in awe, noticing the many closed doors and dark hallways.

         “Maybe I could just go outside,” Lindsay suggested nervously, turning back towards the doors. With that, both large doors slammed closed. All three girls screamed shrilly and started clawing at Ben the Jock. Meanwhile, Adam the Tortured Artist was kneeling on the floor writing morbid poetry in a leather journal.
         “Let’s find the bathroom and get out of here!” Lindsay called out.
         “Right,” replied Ben the Jock. “I think we should split up. Let’s pick teams. I get to be one captain.” He analyzed the remaining group members. Being the chauvinistic individual that he was, he would have normally selected the other male. However, Adam was busy drawing gruesome pictures to accompany his latest poem (titled “Death is the Only Way I Can Be Free of the Unjustness of Life” and subtitled “A Sonnet About the Tyrannical Government that Stifles the Creativity of the Human Soul”), so Wendy was selected as the second captain.
         “I pick Lindsay,” Ben announced promptly.
         “Lindsay?” Wendy questioned. “But she has virtually no survival skills.”

         But apparently those types of skills were completely unnecessary in Ben’s eyes. Wendy shrugged and picked Bridgette the Genius, figuring that the girl’s deep knowledge of math formulas and Latin plant names might come in handy at some point. The only one left was Adam. Ben the Jock and Wendy both eyed the crouching figure.
         “Not it,” Ben called, and he grabbed Lindsay by the hand and took off down one of the corridors. Wendy sighed.
         “Let’s start upstairs,” she decided, collecting the members of her team. The three of them started up the large staircase. They reached the top and peered into the darkness.
         “Do you hear something?” Adam asked suddenly. The group went completely silent. A distant growling sound could be heard. Wendy looked at Adam in fear. The sound came closer. Out of the shadows came a rabid zombie dog. It was moving slowly towards them, wild eyed. Wendy screamed and started running down the most sinister of all the hallways on that floor. Adam followed her. Bridgette the Genius took for the stairs instead, attempting to get to the main entrance. Unfortunately, her plan failed tragically, as the stairs flattened out and magically became a slide, and she was quickly deposited into a trap door that opened up in the floor at the bottom of the staircase.

{indent          Wendy and Adam ran into one of the rooms off of the hallway, closing the door tightly behind them.
         “Do you think we lost it?” Wendy asked him breathlessly.
         “I’m sure we did,” Adam replied firmly. A lone torch was lit in the far corner of the room. In the meager light, another door was exposed. Its knob was rattling.
         “What do you think that is?” Wendy inquired. The entire door was shaking now.
         “We should probably open it,” Adam the Tortured Artist said. “Maybe Ben and Lindsay are trying to play a funny joke on us.”

{indent          Somehow, this seemed like a possibility, so they approached the door and yanked it open. There was a blinding flash of light, and Adam was sucked inside.
         “Help me!” he screamed. “The Boogeyman has me!”
         “I’ll save you!” Wendy yelled after him. In actuality, this was a lie. Wendy knew she had virtually no chance against the closet creature, so she closed the door behind them and exited the room. It wasn’t until she was back at the staircase that she remembered the rabid zombie dog. It was positioned at the top of the stairs, and began to slink towards her. Thankfully, Wendy was close enough that she was able to leap overtop the dog and on to the stair railing. She slid down to the bottom, skillfully avoiding the trapdoor in the dusty floor. Wendy was sprinting towards the front door when she heard someone scream her name. She turned around. A wet, slimy individual was stumbling towards her, sobbing hysterically.
         “Lindsay?” Wendy asked hesitantly. She couldn’t imagine why Lindsay would be running around in a wet t-shirt, especially since it was October and the weather was a bit too cold for swimming. Regardless, she was glad to see someone she knew.
         “Let’s get out of here!” Wendy said, grabbing the other girl.
         “But I lost Ben!” Lindsay responded shrilly. “The dead girl in the indoor swimming pool grabbed him and pulled him under!”
         “We can’t do anything about that,” Wendy told her. “We have to go!”
         
         She grabbed Lindsay’s arm and shoved her out the front door. They raced down the stairs and over the bridge without ever looking behind them. They continued to run, tripping over the bumps in the gravel driveway and forcefully throwing themselves through the gate. They dashed down the rest of the road, throwing their arms up with relief when they finally saw the safety of New York City’s 5th Avenue come into view.

         Unfortunately, at this moment Wendy and her friend were beamed up into an alien spacecraft, never to be seen again.