#a universe where the conditions to join GHOST were a little more harsh

[transingthoseformers]

How fucked would it be if before GHOST Megatron had fangs & claws and he had to file them down

As a silly little evil au

[thesaltyoceanwaves]

Account of Resistance Fighter Saltybug - Hive Mind Bad Ending Metafic

A/N: Please be aware that this is a fictionalized account of my RP experiences during Hive Mind. If it sounds too harsh or serious... well, that’s just my character. It’s not real, and I don’t mean to offend anyone. I know some people got upset or didn’t care for the content during the whole thing, but again, I mean no harm. It’s just a bit of fun.

One of the bunker doors swings open. The contents inside are empty. All of the resistance’s rooms seem sparse, you realize. But this one has been occupied up until not too long ago.

Still curious, you step inside.

There’s a book sitting on a desk. The cover is a plain brown. You skim through the pages and see someone’s handwriting.

It appears to be a diary.

Do you wish to continue reading?

March 26

Something... strange is happening around here. 

All sorts of people have been contacting @nobodyfamousposts about joining the Hive. What was once a story has now become reality. And all sorts of people have been inducted into this cult. 

Yeah, I don’t like this. 

I don’t think I have much to worry about though. It’s not as if people are going to be directly targeting me. If I say nothing, I’d probably be nothing more than a ghost. Wouldn’t even register as a blip on the Hive’s radar.

...

...Maybe I should look for a bunker or something, just in case. Somewhere extreme and with uninviting weather.

March 27

I’ve managed to find some locations with pretty extreme weather conditions. Places like [redacted]. I also considered somewhere up in [redacted] but I hate the cold. Winter just ended and I just started pulling out my spring/summer clothes! I don’t want to have to take it all out again! Ugh, this is so inconvenient, but whatever. I’m still not a target and I could probably get away safely.

Still, I have a good variety of locations that the Hive will never touch. I hope. At the very least, it’d be a pain for them to reach. I don’t mind trekking through treacherous locations - I like the challenge! 

It also seems some people are resisting the Hive. 

Hm...  

March 28

I had a change of heart.

At first, I was simply going to sit back and  comment on the events unfolding around me, all from the safety of [redacted].   

But upon hearing that @gale-of-the-nomads (or as I prefer to call him, Cult Penguin), cornered and captured Nemo, I decided then and there that I could no longer run away. Even when they were left alone, I decided to stand by my decision and declared boldly that the Resistance would win. My declaration did not go unnoticed by fellow resistance member @livanarose. 

Something got me thinking though that the key to winning has to do with finding Adrien and subjecting him to bird feathers. We can’t just overwhelm the entire Hive with them, I guess, but can you really trust the word of a cult member?

It seems that the Hive lacks any sense of humor. Imagine living such a humorless, unimaginative life with all your privacy constantly invaded, 24/7.

Thank you, next! 

March 29

@lenoreofraven has gone too far. Not only has their cult sullied the good name of pastries, but now puppies too!

INCONCEIVABLE!

Such a crime, will not go unpunished! Thankfully, my bold declaration and love for MCU movies seems to have gained me another ally in @apex-primus. I’m glad to have another comrade in arms!

Around day’s end, I ended up making a playlist to rally the troops. There is so much Hive propaganda, that it seems the voice of the Resistance is lost. Mostly, we respond to their lies. So I figured, it’s time to change that. And what’s a better way to get people pumped than listening to a lot of music that mostly makes you feel awesome or you should go pump iron at the gym? Some commentary on the tracks I included:

--> The other day, @jacquesthepigeon proved how effective trolling the Hive can be. What’s a better way to show appreciation than include the Jonas Brothers?

--> Along an anonymous “Owl”, Cult Penguin and Raven have formed a bird squad. "Swan Song” is my (my because I refuse to speak for the Resistance as  a whole. We are individuals) response to that. A swan song usually refers to someone’s last performance before retirement. See the irony?

--> “Libera Me from Hell” - opera = the Hive, rap = the Resistance. Also, “Row, row fight the power!” is such an amazing thing to chant.

--> Soundtrack music from Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Personally speaking, the movie has so many wonderful memories from what I first saw it. But one of the quotes I remember the best is: “The price of freedom is high. Always has been. It’s a price I’m willing to pay. And if I’m the only one, so be it. But I’m willing to bet I’m not.”

I don’t think everything on here represents everyone in the Resistance, so I’m open to people sending in suggestions. To have different genres, different bands and artists, different time periods on there would be great. 

For now, though, it’s a start. 

After that, I once again attempted to debunk more Hive propaganda. Raven has the audacity to speak of “peace”. 

Um, newsflash? Brainwashing isn’t peace. 

And if anyone actually thinks that the Hive will just stop after taking Marinette, they’re incredibly naive. Anyone that doesn’t follow the order of the Hive is seen as weird or a threat. Anyone who is scared is just to told that there’s nothing to be afraid of. Even if it was for a silly reason, I would never tell anyone how and when to feel afraid. They feel that way for a reason. They’re entitled to that. How they deal with that is what’s important.

And sure, we may be more violent than them, but there’s a reason for that.

Despite all this, livana suggested that we go along with a peace treaty, at least for now. I still think the situation is shady, and she agrees. Apex isn’t convinced either, but I suppose we’ll just play nice for now. We’re sitting tight for news on Monday, but of course, keeping our guards up.

March 30

Already, I’ve gotten some requests for the playlist! I mean, I’m pretty sure they’re all from the same person, but requests are still requests! And Apex’s comment really struck a chord with me. Damn, I’m such an emotional dork when it comes to that movie. Nobody also really seemed to like it too! 

I’m still not so secretly taking joy in watching people rip into the Hive. Trying to induct more people into your cult? Ha! Have a face full of pillow instead!

March 31

The Hive has captured and brainwashed Marinette.

Fuck.

...

This is why we can never have peace with the Hive. Allow them whatever they want, and they will consume you whole. I have no doubts that their greed will grow and they will pursue everyone left to add to their little cult.

And the day seemed so promising when I saw another brave soul stepped up to the plate to tackle Hive propaganda. Thank you, @nerd-in-the-basement. Hopefully, you’re safe.

Our best option for now is to retreat to the backup bunkers. 

Right now, the only solace I have is that somewhere out there, in the great wide universe, there is a timeline in which we have overcome the Hive. In another world, they are no longer a threat to humanity and individuality.

I can’t give up on making this timeline better though. There has to be a solution to overthrowing the Hive. We just need time to figure out what it is. Finding Adrien is key. Also, bird feathers. Lots of bird feathers.

For now, we play defense. 

For now, we live in shadow. 

...

To the Hive:

You might have Marinette, but you will never destroy our hope. 

So continue to spread your lies. Continue to try and force people into your cult. Eventually, you will regret everything you’ve done.

I dare you to try and find me.

Because if you thought I was violent or scary before, you won’t like me now. 

I’ll show you no mercy.

To fellow Resistance fighters that may stumble upon this:

I leave this account here for your sake. All the important information is blotted out, but I think you’ll know where to go. What to do. 

It’s okay to be upset.

But do not despair.

There is still hope.

The Hive will not overtake us. They will not have our freedom, our individuality, our lives. Because they only know what it means to exist, not live. And we’ll make sure they know that.

If you wish to seek me out, I will be waiting for you in one of our locations. We can even train together to prepare for the inevitable.  

Viva la Resistance! May it guide your path!

...

That was the latest entry. It seems you’ve reached the end of the diary.

You’re left pondering a question:

Should you seek out xxxsaltybugxxx?

[loretranscripts]

Lore Episode 20: Homestead (Transcript) - 2nd November 2015

tw: racism, slavery, child death, suicide, disease, ghosts Disclaimer: This transcript is entirely non-profit and fan-made. All credit for this content goes to Aaron Mahnke, creator of Lore podcast. It is by a fan, for fans, and meant to make the content of the podcast more accessible to all. Also, there may be mistakes, despite rigorous re-reading on my part. Feel free to point them out, but please be nice!

[Reminder of upcoming live shows at the time]

“Home sweet home”: for most of us, those words are about as true as it gets. The place we call home can easily become the centre of our universe and is often the source of our feelings of security and peace. Most people who tell you stories about their childhood home do so with wide eyes and a wistful smile. Home is, as they say, where the heart is. Our home is the place where we experience life, we fill each room with our laughter, we chase our passions, we make plans for the future. You might remember holidays in the living room, or breakfast conversations, or exploring the attic on a winter day. These homes, nothing more than buildings that we dwell in, somehow become a part of us, but life isn’t always roses and laughter. Sometimes the things we experience are… difficult, or painful, or both. Sometimes people do things that leave a lasting mark, like an echo that carries on through the years, and upon occasion these dark moments are even experienced within our home. From Macbeth to American Horror Story, from the typewriters of Shirley Jackson and Stephen King, it has been made abundantly clear just how much power the home can have over our lives. Maybe it’s the tragedy or the memories, maybe it’s the dark acts committed in the shadows or the secrets buried beneath the foundations, both metaphorical and literal. Whatever the reason, it doesn’t take a popular novelist or a historian to point out the simple truth: there’s no place like home, and considering what’s been known to happen there, that might be a good thing. I’m Aaron Mahnke, and this is Lore.

When Christopher and Elizabeth Crowley built their home in the new South Wales town of Junee in south-eastern Australia, they envisioned a normal, happy future for themselves. Christopher Crowley had caught wind of the impending construction of the Great Southern Railway Line through Junee, and so he built the Railway Hotel across from the station, and it paid off. In 1884, they finished construction on a new home they called “Monte Cristo”. It wasn’t a mansion by any stretch of the imagination, but it did have nine rooms, a stable for his prized race horse, a dairy barn and a separate ballroom, although that eventually became the servants’ quarters. But life wasn’t idyllic for the Crowley family. While carrying one of the little Crowley girls, their nanny dropped her down the stairs, where she died from the injuries. She claimed that an unseen force had reached out and knocked the child from her arms. Whatever the cause, the Crowleys had to go through the ordeal of burying a child, something no parent should have to endure. In 1910, Mr. Crowley’s starched shirt collars began to rub the skin on his neck. The abscess that formed became gangrenous, and by December of that year he died as a result of a heart attack, brought on (they say) by the wound.  After her husband’s death, Elizabeth, already known to be a harsh, disciplined woman, went into a state of mourning that lasted the rest of her life. She converted one of the upstairs rooms into a chapel and spent much of her time there. According to local lore, she only left the house twice before her death in 1933.

Other tragedies found their way into Monte Cristo. A pregnant maid committed suicide by jumping from the top storey of the house; she bled to death on the front steps. Maurice, the stable boy,/ burnt to death in a fire, and in 1961, the caretaker of the house was shot and killed by a local boy, who had been inspired by the recent Hitchcock film, Psycho. Today, many young children feel anxious near the stairs. A dark stain has been seen on the front steps of the house, but it seems to fade in and out of view over time. The shape of a young woman in a white gown has been witnessed passing in front of the windows of the front balcony, and some believe it’s the spirit of the pregnant maid, repeating her final moments over and over. Others claim to have seen a young boy wandering around near the site of the coach house. A few visitors to the house have witnessed the figure of an older man in the upstairs hallway, and most have assumed it to be Mr. Crowley, but it’s his wife, Elizabeth, who is most commonly seen, almost as if she hasn’t fully let go of her home yet. She has been reported to appear in the dining room, where she’s ordered people to leave the room. Others have seen her ghostly figure in the chapel upstairs, dressed in black as if mourning for a lost loved one.

Across the world, in the state of Kentucky, another home became the scene of tragedy and pain. Their names have slipped from history, but in Allen county, one of the families there in the early 1860s owned a number of slaves. According to local stories, most of the slaves lived in their own quarters on the property, but the husband kept chains in the basement of the family home, for times when he wanted to… discipline one or two of them. When the civil war broke out, word began to spread among the slaves of the south that it would be better to escape and run north, so plans were made in their small dormitory over many weeks. Finally, the night came, and the entire group of slaves left the homestead and headed north. All of them, that is, except for the two still chained up in the basement of the owners’ home. Whether it was the noise of their escape or part of his usual evening rounds, the man soon discovered that his slaves were gone. The stories describe how he spent hours that night on horseback with his gun, riding north and looking for his runaway slaves, but they were never found. Instead, the man returned home empty-handed and full of rage. Fuelled by his anger, he descended into the basement, where he shot and killed both captive men. Later, after he had cooled off, he was said to have buried the bodies there in the dirt floor of the cellar, and then, months later, the man was called into service with the confederate army, where he died in battle. The widow never opened the cellar door again – in fact, even though it was in the middle of the house, she had it boarded up. There’s a lot of symbolism in that single action, if you’re looking for that sort of thing. I think she just wanted to make sure no one ever found the bodies her husband had buried beneath the dirt floor down there. She passed away a few years later due to illness, and the house was sold to distant relatives. When the new family began to move in, they opened the cellar and discovered that it reeked with a powerful odour. They vented the space and cleaned it as best they could, but the smell never went away. It wasn’t long before their children began to tell them about hearing sounds at night, that seemed to come from the cellar. They dismissed it as childhood fantasies, but the stories continued. One night, many months later, the husband and wife were both pulled from sleep by strange sounds. She stayed in bed while he went down to investigate. From their room, she claimed she heard a loud cry, and then a crash. She raced out of bed and ran to the cellar door. When she got there, she found her husband. He was lying dead on the dirt floor at the bottom of the cellar stairs, his neck broken and twisted. There are many stories like these, but they all teach the same, bitter lesson. Sometimes, our homes attract tragedy, and sometimes, we create it ourselves.

When Daniel Benton built his small, red, Cape-style home in Tolland, Connecticut, I doubt he imagined it would still be standing today. It’s not enormous like some of the plantation homes one might find in the south, but for a house built in 1720, it was comfortable, and in complete contrast to our modern, mobile life of the 21st century, it stayed in the Benton family until 1932. That’s over 210 years, for those of you who are counting, and that’s a very long time. The family grew, and by the 1770s, Daniel Benton had three grown grandsons who lived in the house with him. One of them, Elisha, had taken an interest in a young woman in town named Jemima Barrows. She was the daughter of a cabinet maker, and in a social station below that of the Bentons, and so Elisha’s family looked down on the romance. They did everything they could to discourage them, but Elisha and Jemima were stubborn. In 1775, an alarm was raised in Lexington, Massachusetts that was heard across the countryside, thanks to riders like Paul Revere. Colonists from all across New England came to join the fight, and among them were the three Benton grandchildren. While Daniel Benton was sad to see his grandchildren go off to war, there was some relief knowing that the separation just might be the thing that Elisha needed to take his mind off the young woman. It is thought by historians that Daniel hoped the war might bring an end to their relationship forever. He was only partly right. A year later, in 1776, all three of the Benton brothers were captured by British forces and taken to Long Island, where they were imprisoned on ships in the sound. These prison ships were notorious for their unsanitary conditions and the diseases that ran wild through the inmates. It was even thought that the British soldiers working the ships actually handed out food and bedding that was contaminated with smallpox. Soon, Daniel Benton received word that the two oldest of his grandsons had died while aboard the prison ships, but no word came of the whereabouts of Elisha. He sent for news, and waited impatiently, but before he could learn the truth, Daniel Benton passed away.

It was weeks later when the answer finally came: Elisha was free, and being bought home, but he was sick with smallpox. This was bittersweet news for the Benton family. On one hand, Elisha was coming home - that was good for everyone - but on the other, smallpox was deadly. Nearly half of everyone who contracted the disease eventually died, and those were not the kind of odds that gave people hope. Soldiers brought Elisha into the house and he was guided straight to a room near the kitchen known as “the dying and borning room”, where those giving birth or sick with illness could be kept away from the rest of the house and cared for. It was a colonial American version of quarantine and intensive care, but the word spread of Elisha’s return. Not every son and grandson returned from war, something even homes today still deal with, and one of those who caught wind of the young Benton’s arrival was Jemima Barrows. She had waited and stayed true to her beloved, and there was nothing she had hoped for more. Elisha had come home. I imagine she ran rather quickly to the doorstep of the Benton home. I would imagine that she knocked, as well, being from a lower social status, after all, but it must have been hard for her not to kick the door in and race to find her beloved. Jemima knew her place, though, and she waited for someone to come to the door. She was told that Elisha was sick, and that she needed to go back home, but Jemima turned out to be a very stubborn young woman. Even when they told her that he was dying and sick with a highly contagious and deadly disease, she wouldn’t relent, and in the end, she won. Jemima was allowed into the house, where she set herself up as his sole care-taker and nurse. After a time, Jemima’s parents became worried. Their daughter hadn’t come home all day, and so they made their way to the Benton home and asked if they had seen her. When they discovered that she was, in fact, in the room caring for a smallpox patient, it is said that they wept. Jemima’s mother said they would go back home and get clothing for their daughter, and then they quickly left the Benton house. They never came back.

Elisha Benton died on January 21st, 1776, after weeks of battling the smallpox that ravaged his body. Jemima stayed by his side the entire time, caring for him through it all, but her sacrifice did not come without a price. In the final days of Elisha’s life, she too began to show signs of the illness. Within weeks, she was also dead. The couple was buried on the Benton family property alongside the stone walls that line the road to the house, but due to burial customs at the time, they were not allowed to share the same plot. Instead, they were separated by about 40ft, one grave on either side of the road. It sounds like the end of a tragic story, and in some ways, it is. Elisha and Jemima were never able to marry, and their young lives were cut short. But in other ways, they live on. According to some, it’s their separation outside that has led to the reports of the restless spirits within the home. The Benton home was sold in 1932, and then again in 1969 to the Tolland Historical Society. It was converted into a museum shortly after, but the influx of visitors only served to draw out more reports of mysterious occurrences. One member of the staff claimed that her dog would not enter the dining room. When she picked the animal up and moved it to the sitting room, it refused to go anywhere else after that. Others have felt an overwhelming sense of foreboding and unwelcome. One woman, after cheerfully asking to visit the second floor, climbed the narrow staircase only to return moments later, telling the staff: “I never want to go up there again”. Noises have been heard throughout the house that are difficult to explain: knocking, footsteps, and what sounds like the snapping of branches have all been reported by visitors. Some have even heard what sounds like distant voices, and sometimes the movement of furniture. Others have heard what they describe as a weeping woman - someone who is mourning a deep loss. Those familiar with the homestead’s past have assumed the woman is Jemima, crying for her lost love. A few have even seen the figure of a young woman in a white dress in various places in the house, searching for something no one else can see.

At times, the home has been used by overnight guests. One couple actually lived there for a few weeks while their home was being renovated, and on one occasion entertained a guest of their own. They claimed that on the night of their friend’s visit, the conversation in front of the fireplace was interrupted by the sound of footsteps, thumping down the hallway from the eastern door of the home. The sounds moved closer and closer to the living room, and then just stopped. According to the woman, their guest was packed and gone within 15 minutes. Another couple who stayed overnight in the Benton homestead reported a very odd experience that happened during their stay. Their hosts had retired to sleep upstairs and they themselves had settled down in the living room, which was serving double duty as a guest room. The wife claims that she was awoken in the middle of the night. It was nearly completely dark in the room, but she felt as if someone, or something, were in the room with her. And then, as if materialising out of the darkness, a pair of legs appeared near the head of the bed. A man, she assumed, was standing there, close to her. Her first assumption was that her host had come down to play a joke on her, maybe that was the kind of guy he was, but the middle of the night is probably the worst time to play the joker, no matter who you are. Either way, she decided to call his bluff, and waited to see what he would do. Nothing could have prepared her for what happened next, though. A hand came out of the darkness and quickly covered her mouth. She flinched but held her ground. If he was going to try and frighten her, she said, he was in for a surprise. She pretended not to care, but after a few moments it became hard to breathe, and in the end, panic took over. Pushing the hand away, she sat up and whispered harshly at the figure: “What are you up to?” Almost instantly, everything vanished; the legs, the hand, all of it, just… gone. The following morning, she brought up her experience at breakfast and asked the hosting couple what the reason was for their prank. The husband and wife looked at each other with confused expressions on their faces. They each made the same claim: no one had come downstairs during the night.

The places we live can take on a certain life of their own. We fill them with our personality, our celebrations, and sometimes even our tragedy, and although we can move on, whether by packing up and moving out, or literally by leaving this life behind, we often leave pieces of ourselves behind. Like a cardboard box forgotten in the back corner of the attic, some of our echoes stay behind where others can discover them. Some call them ghosts, others think of them as “bad vibrations” – I don’t think any of us would be wrong no matter what language we use. In the end, something stays behind, and it’s not always easy to see. Sometimes, though, it is. A few years ago, an architectural photographer visited the Benton homestead with his sister in order to get some pictures for a project they were collaborating on. They wondered the property outside, looking for the best view of the house. It’s gorgeous, really, if you have a thing for antique, First Period homes, and the deep red paint on the wood clapboard is very classy and elegant. The project involved using polaroid cameras, the kind that immediately kicks out a small, white-framed photograph that slowly fades into clarity. When they found the perfect place to shoot the house, very near to the graves of Elisha and Jemima incidentally, the photographer took a picture. Something was wrong with the photo, so he took another. That one, too, seemed wrong. He showed his sister, and they tried a third, then a fourth, and then a fifth and a sixth. Finally, they switched to a backup camera, one that had just come back from a camera shop where it had been repaired, but the photographs that came out of the new camera were the same. It wasn’t the camera, they realised, it was the house. All of the defective photos had the same flaw, as clear and easy to spot as the house itself. There, in each image, the second storey window was glowing, as if something bright and hazy were just behind the glass.

[Closing statements]

[camillamacaulaywrites]

Below the cut are ideas for 1x1 and small group plots. I love horror movies, and I know a lot of people in the roleplay community do too, so I thought I would make a little guide with movies I though would make for good roleplay plots. This could potentially become a series, so if you want to suggest horror movies to me don’t hesitate! I have provided links to all the movies’ IMDb pages as well. Enjoy! 

Mama

Muse A’s partner’s (Muse B) nieces have been missing for years until one day they are found one day. Mysteriously the girls have been taken care of and have survived in the wild by themselves. The oldest child takes a liking to Muse A and Muse B, while the younger child is more withdrawn. Muse A and B start hearing strange noises around the house at night and wonder if it has something to do with the girls. As it turns out, the girls had some help in the woods in the form of a lonely and maternal ghost that they call Mama.

A Nightmare on Elm Street

Years ago a man called Fred Krueger was killing children. In order to end the reign of terror a group of parents from Elm Street decided to kill him to protect their children. The kids grew up and started experiencing dreams of a man who was badly burned with a bladed contraption for a weapon. Then those children started dying in strange manners. Ideal for a small group/mumu with the muses as the Elm Street children. 

The Conjuring and The Conjuring 2

Muse A and Muse B are adorable and happily married demonologists who not only teach classes about the supernatural dangers in the world, but people also reach out to them for help. Muse A is a trance medium who is very spiritual, while Muse B is the science side of the duo. Together they kick the ass of evil and are cute while doing it.

Ginger Snaps

Muse A and Muse B are sisters who have quite morbid tendencies. One night Muse A is attacked by a mysterious creature and over time starts changing. Muse B is forced to race against time in order to save her sister, who will transform into a wolf permanently on the night of the full moon, and ultimately turns to Muse C, a local greenhouse worker and drug dealer, for help. 

The Evil Dead (1981)

A group of college kids rent a cabin in the woods for the weekend. What should be fun turns into abject horror when they find a book bound in human skin and some recordings that detail what is in the book. When they play the recordings it summons an ancient evil and no one is safe from becoming possessed. Survival of the fittest at it’s best. Ideal for a small group/mumu. 

Evil Dead (2013)

A group of old friend’s meet at an old cabin where they spent their summers when they were younger. The group has splintered, mostly from the decision of one of the member’s to move away and start a new life. They have joined this particular weekend in a last ditch intervention to get aforementioned muse’s sister off drugs. The sister previously died and was brought back after over dosing. They find that the cabin has been broken in to and that there is a book bound in human flesh in the basement. One curious member of the group reads from the book and all hell ensues as members of the clique start becoming possessed. Ideal for a small group/mumu.

All Cheerleaders Die

After a nasty run in with some football players a group of cheerleaders die in a car accident. Luckily, the ex-girlfriend of the newest member of the squad uses magic to bring the girls back to life, but there’s a bit of a twist, the girls need blood and life force of other humans to live. The ex-girlfriend takes it upon herself to help the cheerleaders adjust to their new undead lives and keep what happened a secret. However, the football players are catching on, wondering why the wreck didn’t kill the girls. Ideal for a small group/mumu.

Re-Animator

Muse A is new student at a medical school has created a serum that can potentially bring the dead back to life. The student befriends a classmate, Muse B, dragging their new friend into their world of experiments on the dead. Muse C, the child of the dean of the university, gets pulled in due to being the significant other of Muse B. (Extra points if the muses become polyamorous/an ot3.)

The Thing (1982)/The Thing (2011)

A group of scientists and military personnel stumble upon a space craft while stationed at a base in the Antarctic. An alien being has escaped the ship due to the thaw and can literally become any biological being, animal or man. Paranoia starts to set in and bonds and friendhips are tested as the group have to fight a lifeform that could have assumed the role of any one of them. Ideal for a small group/mumu.

Jennifer’s Body

Muse A and Muse B have been friends since childhood. Muse A is an upopular in school and goes through life under the radar with her boyfriend, optional Muse C, while Muse B is popular and beautiful and everything anyone could want to be. A band plays in the muses’ small hometown and afterwards strange events starts to happen after Muse B leaves with the band. The twist? The band thought Muse B was a virgin and attempted to sacrifice her to Satan for fame. The bigger twist? Muse B is not a virgin and because of being an “impure sacrifice” is now a demon that needs to eat boys to stay alive. 

Scream

 A young person’s mother was murdered years ago, and they gave the testimony that put the killer behind bars, now teens are being slaughtered by a killer in a cheap Halloween costume. What could that have to do with what happened all those years in the past? And could the killer have a connection to the victims that they slay? Sounds like there’s a lot of potential to throw in some thinly veiled scary movie references and turn the entire genre on it’s head. Ideal for a small group/mumu.

30 Days of Night

When a small town in Alaska is preparing for thirty days of complete darkness, this time it’s a little different and we don’t just mean a lot of the town people leaving for this harsh cycle. A group of vampires invades the town, taking advantage of the darkened and improved hunting conditions. A group of survivors have to battle these monsters for thirty days and try to survive to see sunlight again. Ideal for a small group/mumu.