Laughter echoed from downstairs. Faint music pulsed through the walls, an ever-present beat that underlined the night's energy. Upstairs, seven friends sat in a loose, uneven circle on the floor of a dim room — Dan, Anna, George, Zack, Nancy, Ella, and Barbara. A half-empty bottle rested in the center, glinting under the soft yellow light.
Zack picked up the bottle, a smug grin on his face.
"Let's get this going," he said, spinning it with a flick of his wrist.
The bottle clinked across the hardwood floor, spinning wildly before slowing, wobbling, and pointing directly at Barbara.
Zack raised a brow. "Well, well. It's on you."
Barbara shifted uneasily. "...Okay."
"Truth or dare?"
She hesitated. "Um… I pick… truth."
Zack leaned forward. "Alright. So tell us — who do you like? And don't lie."
Barbara narrowed her eyes. "Promise not to tell anyone?"
"Scout's honor," he replied with mock sincerity.
Barbara bit her lip. Then, almost whispering, she said, "...Brandon Myers."
Ella squealed. "Squee!! Oh my god, no way!"
Zack gave a thumbs up, though his smile faded slightly. Wish it was me, he thought.
Dan groaned. "Can we move on? This is getting cringey."
Without waiting, he yanked the bottle and gave it a hard spin. It rattled and spun aggressively before finally landing on George.
"Truth or dare?" Dan asked, voice laced with a darker amusement.
George stroked his chin theatrically. "...Dare."
Dan's grin widened.
Dan groaned. "Can we move on? This is getting cringey."
Without waiting, he yanked the bottle and gave it a hard spin. It rattled and spun aggressively before finally landing on George.
"Truth or dare?" Dan asked, smirking.
George stroked his chin theatrically. "...Dare."
Dan snorted. "Brave, huh?"
He leaned back on his hands, voice dripping with casual mockery.
"Fine. Then go prove how brave you are — jump off the roof or something."
George blinked. "What?"
Zack frowned. "That's not funny, man."
Dan laughed. "Relax, I'm kidding. Sort of. But hey — dare's a dare, right?"
George narrowed his eyes. "I'm not suicidal."
"Obviously," Dan replied, his tone still half-joking. "Just trying to keep things interesting."
Zack raised his hands. "Let's just keep it fun, alright? Next round."
An awkward silence followed. Tension lingered as Anna looked down, quietly sniffing. Nancy grabbed the bottle and spun it. It clinked and twirled, then landed on Ella.
Nancy smirked. "Truth or dare?"
Ella giggled. "Dare."
Nancy winked. "Kiss Dan."
Ella's grin grew. "Say less!"
She bounced excitedly, then practically leapt onto Dan's lap, straddling him.
Anna's smile faltered.
Her eyes flicked to Dan — a moment of confusion, maybe even hurt.
She opened her mouth to say something — then closed it again.
"Hope you don't mind..." Ella said playfully, and kissed him — deeply.
Dan stiffened in surprise but didn't push her away.
Zack looked away. "Yo..."
Anna exhaled sharply through her nose.
Nancy teased, "Hey, I didn't give a time limit."
"Exactly why it should stop," Anna said coldly.
Ella pulled back, still smiling widely. "Best dare ever."
(Anna looks away, arms crossed. Her face unreadable now.)
George stood up abruptly. "I'm heading out for some air."
"You good?" Nancy asked.
"Yeah. Just need a break. Gonna check out the party crowd for a bit."
"Cool. Don't wander too far."
George stepped outside. The cool air kissed his skin as the door clicked shut behind him. The noise of the party was muffled now — a distant buzz of music and laughter. He lit a cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating his face, and leaned back against the wall, taking a long drag.
Someone was already out there — sitting slouched near the porch railing, red cup dangling from his fingers. He looked drunk, but something about his posture seemed too… composed.
"So… what's eating you?" the man asked casually.
George exhaled smoke. "Nothing serious. Just needed some air."
"Right. Me too."
George turned slightly. "What about you?"
The man sighed. "Got dumped tonight."
George winced. "Damn. Sorry, man."
The stranger shrugged lazily. "Part of life."
He turned, suddenly grinning. "Name's Alexi."
"George," he replied, shaking his hand. Something about Alexi's grip was off — cold, firm, but... deliberate.
George squinted. Alexi's eyes were too clear. Too focused for someone supposedly drunk.
Alexi suddenly sat up. "Wait. Do you see that?"
George blinked. "Huh?"
"There. On the roof — someone's dangling off the edge!"
George followed his gaze. "Shit — you're right."
Alexi stood. "We've gotta help them!"
"Shouldn't we get someone else?" George asked.
"No time — come on!" Alexi said, already moving.
They rushed back inside and made their way toward the attic. George's heart thudded as they climbed. Everything felt too fast — too unreal.
They reached the rooftop. George climbed out first.
There, barely visible in the moonlight — someone clung to the ledge, arms flailing.
"Hold on! I've got you!" George shouted, lunging forward. He grabbed at their wrists —
But felt nothing.
No weight. No grip. Just... air.
George blinked. "What the—"
Suddenly, his foot slipped. One shoe lost traction on the slanted shingles, and he stumbled forward.
He was falling.
His stomach lurched. His hands clawed at the ledge — fingers catching — holding.
Now he was the one dangling.
"Alexi! HELP! Alexi, where the hell are you!?"
No response.
George's eyes darted wildly. Alexi was gone.
Below, the music roared. Laughter echoed. No one looked up.
"HELP! ANYONE!" George screamed.
Still nothing.
The ledge groaned under his weight. Cracks spread from his grip point.
His fingers slipped.
Crack.
His heart pounded in his ears. The last thing he saw was the dark, uncaring night sky.
He fell.
Time stretched. His body twisted mid-air. The world spun violently.
He hit the ground.
CRACK.
His skull split on impact. His spine folded, breaking under the force. Blood burst from his ears.
His eyes went wide in shock, then pain.
He was still alive.
Barely.
Gasping. Twitching. Blood spilled from his mouth in bubbling pulses. His legs bent the wrong way. He tried to move. Nothing.
He was cold. Panic surged. He tried to scream.
Then, a voice — Alexi's — echoed in his mind:
"Let's see how far they'll go."
His ears rang. His vision dimmed.
George:
(Gurgling) "I... can't... feel... any...thi—"
Blood gushed from his lips. His body convulsed.
Then stopped.
Death.
And just twenty feet away, the music never stopped.
Screams erupted. Someone vomited. People shouted, backing away in horror.
Dan, Barbara, Zack, Nancy, Anna, and Ella rushed outside — confused — until they saw it.
George's body.
Twisted. Mangled.
Nancy shrieked. "OH MY GOD!!"
Zack gagged. "What the hell happened!?"
Barbara's voice cracked. "He fell!? Was he pushed!?"
Dan stood frozen.
Alexi stepped from the shadows, calm and almost amused.
"He fell… chasing a lie," he said.
His eyes flicked to Dan.
Anna looked pale. "He what?!"
Barbara stared. "Where's the person he saved?"
She turned — but Alexi was gone.
Ella stood a few steps behind the group, hands over her mouth.
Her eyes glistened — not just in shock, but shame.
"I... I thought this was supposed to be fun," she whispered, voice cracking.
No one heard her.
Red and blue lights bathed the yard. Police tape stretched across the area. Flashlights scanned the ground.
A police officer knelt beside George's body, inspecting it silently.
"From the way the body landed… he didn't fall straight down. Twisted mid-air. Looks like he tried to grab something," the officer said, pointing. "That crack there? Temple region. Skull's weakest point. Massive brain bleed. He was probably conscious for a minute… maybe two."
He gestured at the twisted spine.
"Spine snapped. Paralysis, instant."
He tapped George's ribs.
"Ribs collapsed. One pierced his lung — possibly his liver."
The officer stood, voice softening.
"He couldn't scream. Couldn't move. Blood filled his lungs. He drowned in it. Two to four minutes of panic… before it ended."
He paused.
"I'm sorry for your loss."
Ella broke down in tears. The others stared in silent shock.
Days Later
The group gathered in Barbara's room. Sleep had been a stranger to all of them. Shadows under their eyes. No music. No laughter.
Barbara sat upright. "George is dead."
Nancy nodded solemnly. "And on his birthday, too..."
Zack leaned forward. "I still can't wrap my head around it. He fell?"
"That's what they said," Nancy replied.
Barbara's brow furrowed. Her voice dropped.
"Wait… fell off the roof…"
She looked up sharply.
"That remind you of anything?"
Ella hesitated. "What do you mean?"
"The dare," Barbara said. "Dan dared him to jump, didn't he?"
Nancy's mouth opened slightly. "You don't think—"
Zack swallowed. "It couldn't be Dan... right?"
The door opened. Anna walked in, arms crossed.
"Or there's something freaky going on," she muttered.
"Where's Dan?" Barbara asked.
"Asleep. Barely talking," Anna said.
Barbara's eyes hardened. "Tomorrow, we start asking questions. Operation Sherlock Holmes."
Nancy shivered. "If Dan did this..."
Barbara nodded slowly.
"...We might be next."
To be continued!