Chapter One
“It’s so cool, Mel, that you came!” Josh was riding his motorbike along a winding mountain road, chatting with his friend sitting behind him.
“What else could I do? You’ve basically vanished here in Bali. What was I supposed to do—not see my best friend for years?” grinned Mel. “But I see you already ride a bike like a pro. Well done!” She gave him a friendly pat on the back. “But we’ve entered some kind of jungle. There’s nothing out here, not even a hut.”
“That’s what makes it awesome.” Josh smiled happily. “A music festival in the jungle, a real one! Just us, the music, and untouched nature.”
“Yeah, merging with nature, opening chakras to the Universe—I know those Ubud vibes. We’ll get there, and it will begin: let’s all stand in a circle and thank the spirits of the wind, the mountains, and the forest for accepting us…” She rolled her eyes. “Especially that wild macaque that stole my glasses and ate my sandwich.” Mel burst out laughing.
“Well, yes, Ubud is nearby. Of course, there will be some ‘Ubud-crazies’ at the festival. But I’m sure we’re gonna have a great time. Laura promised it’ll be fire!”
“And how did Laura find out about this festival?”
“Dunno, some friend of hers told her.”
“What friend?”
“No idea, didn’t get it.”
“She’s your neighbor, you must know all her friends.”
“Beats me, she didn’t really explain. But hey, looks like we’re here already.” Josh nodded towards the gap between the trees, where lights were already visible. “Look, Alex is parking his bike.”
“Bro, I barely made it! Liz and I got caught in a rainstorm somewhere near Ubud.” The guy got off his bike, turning to Josh.
“Luckily we had raincoats, so we didn’t get wet,” Liz added. “Let’s go! I can hear the music now. It’s already started. Babe, keep up!” She led the way along the trail, buried in lush tropical greenery, towards the glowing lights and booming bass.
#
“Damn, Laura! You can really scare me like that!” Josh jumped back from the long black robe that the girl was wrapped in, already waiting for them at the entrance.
“It’s for the vibe. To match the setting,” Laura chuckled. “But you’ve finally arrived! I’ve been waiting for you for a long time. By the way, the festival started a few hours ago. I met some French people at the very beginning—weird, of course, but nice. They kept muttering something about energy funnels. Then they decided to meditate, invited me to join them. They left—and disappeared. Never came back. Apparently, they went through a magic portal.” She laughed, but something trembled in her voice.
#
The clearing was lit up with multi-colored garlands. Music poured from speakers hidden under palm leaves: a deep bass echoed in the chest, and above it, as if on vines, fragments of vocals, oriental flutes, and muffled shamanic chants glided. All this together formed something mesmerizing, hypnotic. On the main stage, the crowd danced as if they were enchanted. The air smelled of alcohol, sweat and something that was definitely not eucalyptus.
There were fires burning around the perimeter of the clearing. Some people were hugging each other. Some were lying there, staring at the sky. Some were crying. Some were laughing for no reason.
“What do you think?” Josh shouted to Mel over the music.
“A hundred times better than I expected! Just like an arthouse video, only with sweat and mosquitoes!”
Alex and Liz were already dancing, and Laura, having taken off her robe, sat by the fire, thoughtfully sipping coconut water straight from the coconut.
#
Twilight was falling. The fires were growing brighter, more crimson, the shadows were growing longer, and the jungle around them seemed to be growing denser, compressing.
“Look, I noticed a trail leading off from the edge of the clearing. Straight into the jungle,” Alex said, looking towards the thicket. “Looks like it leads to the river. Who wants to go for a swim? Without clothes, of course,” he chuckled. “Without any clothes at all.”
“I’m for it.” Mel immediately raised her hand cheerfully.
“Well, of course you are, you have almost nothing to take off.” Alex grinned, casting a sharp glance at her.
“But it’s a brilliant idea,” Mel chuckled. “That’s how nine out of ten characters die in every self-respecting slasher. First, they swim, then: ‘Oh, where did Jenny go?’ Then blood and a ripped-open stomach. According to the laws of the genre, if someone suggests swimming naked in a slasher, then there will be blood, screams, and severed heads.”
“I’ll pass,” Laura responded. “Trails in the dark aren’t my thing. And anyway, I met a guy from Uganda here, he read me poetry. I’m with him.”
“Well, whatever.” Alex shrugged. “We’ll be back soon.”
They took a trail, half-lost in the evening shadows. Behind them was the light, the bass, and the cheerful noise. Ahead was the damp air, the shimmering fog, and a narrow trail that disappeared into the depths of the jungle.
“Great, that’s how Hollywood horror movies always start. First, ‘oh, look, a trail,’ then ‘let’s go swimming’.” Mel narrowed her eyes meaningfully. “Then it’s textbook: one of them hears a strange sound, the other finds some symbol—ancient, cursed. Then someone falls, the battery on their phone runs out… We’re totally following the genre. ‘Let’s go down there, it’ll be fun!’ And ten minutes later, someone screams without a head.”
“Okay, this is exactly how slashers start,” said Josh, pushing his way through the branches. “A group of friends decides to go to the river at night. Jungle, moonlight, naked boobs on screen—classic setup. We’re literally marching through a screenplay template. Now we just need someone to say, ‘Be right back,’ and that’s it. Goodbye, dude.”
“At least we don’t have a chainsaw or a token virgin,” Liz chuckled.
“The key thing is not to split up. And not to say, ‘Hang on, I’ll just go check out that sound.’ Anything that starts with that phrase ends with a corpse,” Alex laughed. “And couples who decide to have sex in the bushes are also killed in the first rows. Always a bad idea.”
“Okay.” Josh threw up his hands. “Nobody move away, don’t listen to suspicious noises, and for heaven’s sake, keep your pants zipped.”
“Oh no, what about artistic improvisation?” Liz pretended to be upset.
“Sure, if you’re dying to be the next victim,” Mel chuckled.
“It’s true! We’ve got almost the full cast for a classic slasher. By the rules, we must have a set of archetypes.” Alex grinned. “Who’s who? Let’s figure it out. Just so we know the order we’ll die in.”
“Alright,” Mel said with a sly smile. “I’m the Final Girl.”
“No way,” Alex protested. “The Final Girl is always a virgin, a paragon of virtue, purity, morality, and other boring stuff. Quiet, modest, in jeans and a white T-shirt. No offense, Mel, but you in that skirt, that’s basically just a wide belt, and a top that is held up solely by faith in jungle magic.” He glanced at her. “And with those ‘I do what I want’ eyes… You look more like the Slut archetype—a girl with extremely loose morals, who is always the first to die. She is also usually killed during sex. Or right after. Somewhere near the barn. Or under some phallus-shaped totem.”
“Hah,” Josh snickered, “she is the Final Girl, trust me.”
“Okay,” Liz muttered. “Then who am I?”
“You’re the one who goes to take a shower alone in a cabin in the woods,” Alex prompted. “Naked. Always. Even if you’re just going to get some napkins. You’re the one who screams loudly and dies sexy.”
“Great,” Liz snorted. “Love my destiny.”
“Josh is the Reluctant Hero,” Alex continued. “The guy who doesn’t believe anything at first, then has a sudden epiphany, and in the end sacrifices himself to save the heroine, shouting ‘RUN!’”
“Not the worst option,” Josh said thoughtfully. “The main thing is not to be the guy who says, ‘I’ll be right back.’”
“Well, then I’m obviously the Dumb Jock,” said Alex, squaring his shoulders. “Charming meathead. Always rushes in, does everything wrong, cracks jokes until the very end—when he gets gutted. Dies dramatically and always shirtless.”
“Hey, at least you’ll be the most photogenic corpse,” Mel teased.
A branch snapped somewhere nearby. They all froze. Then they laughed, almost simultaneously.
“There it is,” Alex said. “Total horror movie frame. Laughter, false relief—and then BAM. Someone vanishes.”
“If one of us falls behind, don’t come back for him,” Mel said firmly. “Or if you do, go back in pairs. Never go alone.”
And then, in the jungle, just off to the side of the trail, there was a quiet, wet gurgle, as if a heavy sack had been dropped into a swamp. Everyone fell silent at once.
