The Pumpkin Head Murder

I was woken up by the stench.

It was so overwhelming it hit like a punch to the head.

The metallic tang of rust mixed with the fermented rot of pumpkin forced its way up my nose, leaving my throat raw.

I jolted upright, only to slam my head into something hard, stars bursting across my vision.

“Damn…”

Clutching my head, it took me a long moment before I could make out where I was.

A cramped hidden compartment.

Right, this was the escape room.

Last night, the pumpkin-headed character’s chainsaw had been too loud, so I’d slipped into this hidden storage space.

I’d even been a little proud of myself, thinking I lived up to my reputation as both a seasoned escape room player and a horror movie expert.

As the noise outside faded, I’d put on my headphones, scrolled through some reels, and drifted off.

Where were my coworkers?

Had the game ended?

Who won the ten-thousand-dollar prize?

I pushed open the compartment door, and an even stronger metallic stench hit me head-on, nearly knocking me off my feet.

The farmhouse set outside was dimly lit, with only a few prop lanterns hanging on the walls, casting a faint, sickly yellow glow, just enough for me to see the hellscape in front of me.

There was blood everywhere.

Dark red splattered across hay bales, wooden walls, even the ceiling.

Just as I was thinking the production value of this escape room was insane, the props disturbingly realistic, I saw bodies.

Mangled bodies, sprawled in grotesque, twisted positions.

I recognized the plaid shirt.

It belonged to Kevin, the programmer who joined the company the same time I did.

He was usually obsessively clean.

Now half his body was soaked in thick, blackened blood.

And the one in the Chanel suit was our department director.

Her head was gone.

In its place was a smashed pumpkin, split open and still oozing thick red pulp.

Forensic officers were crouched nearby, photographing the scene.

The moment it hit me that none of this was part of the set, none of it was props, my stomach twisted violently, bile rising in my throat.

I clamped a hand over my mouth, forcing the nausea back down.

“Ugh…”

The dry heave echoed sharply through the dead-silent farmhouse.

“Sir! There’s someone alive over here!” a young officer shouted.

My whole body jolted, my legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the ground.

Within moments, they pulled me out of the escape room.

At the entrance, a middle-aged man was speaking to the police, sweat pouring down his face.

“Officer, I swear! The booking last night was canceled!”

The owner’s voice trembled, on the verge of breaking.

“It was their boss, William Zoo, he called personally to cancel it! He said they had other plans!”

My head rang.

Canceled?

Then what had we been doing last night?

What he said next sent a chill straight through me.

“And the actor we’d booked for the role got food poisoning yesterday afternoon from undercooked mushrooms. He’s still in the hospital!”

The owner’s eyes widened as he stared straight at me.

“Last night… we didn’t have anyone scheduled to play the pumpkin-headed character at all.”