It happened at church camp, as the worst in life tends to.
I wasn't the one who originally woke up and found the her crouched over Sarah with those incredibly sharp nails embedded in her throat but I was woken up by the screaming. I didn't even see the first killing, too busy being dragged by the other girls as far from the gruesome scene as we could.
That was, until we came to the front doors and realised they were locked.
Our only way out had been sealed by the well-meaning group leaders who were somewhere in the chaos behind us, quite likely dead or dying. We didn't know for sure and didn't want to stick around long enough to find out. We ran to one of the smaller prayer rooms nearby, blocking the door handle with a chair and huddling in the far back to plan our next move.
As the screams in the distance faded, we knew we'd run out of time.
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