“I’m a Queen. Queens beat Kings.”

Blood was everywhere. She was drenched in it.

The walls were splattered, creating horrific Rorschach images.

The floor was becoming a swamp of blood with her friends acting as clumps of land.

Blood and sweat matted Suzie Queen’s short dark brown hair; she barely noticed the weight or smell. Her attention remained on the doors that lead out of the gymnasium, and the Scare Crow that stood in front of her.

The Scare Crow swayed gently on the spot, an action that seemed more fitting if he were attached to a pole in a cornfield. But he wasn’t, he was standing on sock feet stuffed with hay and newspaper. His upper body was dressed in a long-sleeved red and brown plaid shirt. His thick, black snow pants supported his sixfoot body all stuffed with non-living material. The black leather gloves that were filled with small Styrofoam balls and stapled to the cuffs of his shirt were flexing like real fingers. Each one of his hands held a dripping, red blade.

It wasn’t going to be all the blood, the bodies, or the screams of terror that would give Suzie nightmares for the rest of her life.

It was the smiling, innocent face drawn onto his potato sack head that would haunt her. She had been the one to draw his two triangle eyes and buck toothed smile. She’d put the orange construction paper crown on his head, and told all her friends, “Today Mr. Scare Crow is the King of Hell. If you don’t do what he says, he will slash your throat and bathe in your blood.”

They had all laughed then. They had all been having fun decorating the high school gym for the annual Halloween dance.

All the laughing and joking had stopped when Brock suddenly crumpled to the floor, his throat slashed with blood spewing all over.

All the screaming started when the Scare Crow killed Stacie before anyone could cry over Brock.

The Scare Crow moved as if someone was wearing him like a costume. Yet when Owen hit him on the head with an aluminum baseball bat, his potato sack head had sunk in making a noise like paper being crumpled.

One by one 20 out of 21 were killed.

Suzie stood with her back against the wall, Owen’s aluminum baseball clutched between her hands. Her muscles were tensed, her heartbeat was erratic, and her hands shook with fear.

The blood that was drying on her bare arms and legs was beginning to itch. Her throat was dry and hoarse from screaming her friends’ names as each one tried to escape or fight back. The Scare Crow was faster and stronger, any of them that got close to the door were cut down, and anyone that was in his path along the way met a similar fate.

The Scare Crow had killed them all except for her. He had more than one opportunity to kill her, but instead he had moved onto someone else. There was no one but her now.

He had taken his time, making her slowly back up against her spot on the wall. He had only stopped when she grabbed the bat and met his lifeless stare straight on.

Whatever reason the Scare Crow had for leaving her alive until last would be his undoing. If she didn’t take him down in her escape then the police or military would certainly do the job.

Suzie had been the one to place the title of King of Hell upon him. Her title had been given to her through birth. As a Queen she had the right to take his title away.

“I’m a Queen. Queens beat Kings.”