"Are you sure this is a good idea?" the blonde asked as she hung off the arm of her partner.
"Of course it is. What, are you afraid?" he teased.
"It's supposed to be haunted, isn't it?"
"That's kinda the point, Daisy."
She rolled her eyes, leaning in to kiss his cheek.
"Fine. But we're not staying the night, right?"
"Of course not, it's just for Tim's party. Then we can go wherever you want."
They stumbled through the woods until they came to the cabin, alight with bumbling teenagers either drunk or high or just not there yet. They headed inside, and soon got down and partied.
~*~
Towards 3am, couples had slowly lingered out of the old shack and disappeared into the woods. Eric and Daisy were two of four left.
"So it was great seeing you," Tim slurred as he locked the door of the cabin behind he and his girl.
"You you too buddy," Eric nodded as he turned to leave.
And suddenly got a pickaxe in the stomach.
Daisy and Eric's girl both started screaming, as the axe was pulled out and Eric fell to the ground gasping. Tim started fumbing with the keys, trying to get the door open again, as the man in the shadows grabbed his girlfriend by the throat and hoisted her up against the wall. In moments there was blood spatter across the wall, and her body fell lifeless beside them.
"Who are you?! What do you want?!" Daisy screamed, as Tim finally got the door open and pulled her inside.
He slammed it shut after them, only for the blade of the pickaxe to come crashing through. Daisy screamed again, backing off, and headed for the nearest window. When the hole in the door was big enough, dead eyes looked through and caught Tim's.
"What do you want?" Tim gasped.
The man grinned evilly, and disappeared from view. Tim hesitated to catch his breath. And a moment later, Daisy was gone.
"Daisy?!"
He ran to the window. No sign of her, but a definite blood trail heading down the porch gave away her fate.
"Daisy?!" Tim called again.
He turned to look in the other direction, saw the axe come for him, and then everything went black.
~*~
Heavy feet made their way through the forest, coming out in a small gravel clearing used for hikers to park their cars. The pickaxe dripped water from the stream where he'd cleaned it, and went into the trunk still wet. The bloody suit was discarded by the wayside, and he got comfortably into the car.
Dean reversed the impala out of the clearing, and gunned it back to the motel. With two more hours until daylight.