Episode 8 — "The Choice"
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Cold Open
The cafeteria was empty at 2 a.m. The hum of the soda machines filled the silence. A lone janitor mopped, earbuds in, humming faintly to himself.
Then the TV flickered on above the food counter. Static first, then a grainy video feed: Jason Hale. Sitting on the dorm roof, cigarette glowing in the dark.
The janitor froze. Pulled his earbuds out. The video wasn't live, but close. Jason's movements matched—except Jason was here, not there.
The camera zoomed in on the TV. The porcelain mask filled the screen. Crack down the cheek, black eyes staring right at him.
Words scrawled across the bottom of the screen in dripping red letters:
"SOMEONE DIES TONIGHT."
The janitor's mop clattered to the floor.
Cut to black.
Title Card: THE STALKER.
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Act I — Jason's Breaking Point
Jason hadn't let Elena out of his sight since the pool. She still shook sometimes when she closed her eyes, like the memory of the water and the wires was stuck in her muscles.
He sat on the edge of her dorm bed, crowbar leaning against his knee. "They're going to hit again. Tonight. I can feel it."
Elena rubbed her face. "You sound like you've got fucking ESP."
Jason's laugh was hollow. "I don't. I've just learned the rhythm. He kills like it's a goddamn metronome."
Elena studied him. "What happens when he makes you choose?"
Jason's jaw tightened. "Then someone dies."
Silence. Just rain tapping the window.
Jason's phone buzzed on the nightstand. He didn't want to look. He already knew.
Elena grabbed it, checked the screen, and went pale. "Oh my God…"
Jason snatched it.
A message, simple.
"ONE HOUR. TWO PEOPLE. PICK ONE."
Attached: two photos.
Ryan, tied to a chair in their dorm room, gagged. His eyes wild with terror.
And Professor Knox, duct-taped to his own office chair, blood dripping from his hand again, head sagging but alive.
Jason's stomach flipped. "Fuck…"
Elena whispered, "He's… making you pick."
Jason's hands shook. "No. He's making me fail."
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Act II — The Countdown
Jason and Elena ran out into the storm, sprinting across campus, soaked through in seconds. Jason's chest heaved, every nerve screaming.
"We can't split up!" Elena shouted over the rain.
"We don't have time to do both!" Jason yelled back. "That's the fucking point!"
Elena grabbed his arm, yanked him to a stop. "Jason—you can't save both. If you try, you lose them both."
Jason's face twisted in rage. "So what, I just let one die?"
Elena's voice cracked. "That's exactly what he wants!"
Jason ripped his arm free, shaking his head, eyes burning. "No. No, fuck that. I'll save them both."
His phone buzzed again.
"THIRTY MINUTES."
Jason took off running.
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Act III — The Attempt
They hit the dorm first. Jason shouldered his own door open. Ryan was there, just like the photo—tied, gagged, eyes wide.
Jason rushed forward, knife out, cutting ropes. "I got you, I got you—"
Ryan shook his head violently, muffled cries spilling under the gag.
Jason froze.
Then he saw it.
A small red light, blinking under the chair.
A bomb.
Jason cursed, ripping Ryan back just as the device detonated. The blast tore through the room, blew the window out in a storm of glass. Jason and Ryan hit the floor hard, ears ringing.
Elena screamed from the doorway. Smoke filled the hall.
Jason shoved Ryan to his feet. "GO! RUN!"
Ryan bolted, coughing, half-sobbing, blood running down his arms from shrapnel.
Jason turned to Elena, eyes wide, wild. "We still have time—Knox!"
They ran again.
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Act IV — Failure
Knox's office reeked of bleach and blood when they got there. The door stood ajar, swinging slightly.
Jason rushed in—too late.
Knox was there, duct-taped to the chair. His throat slit ear to ear, head slumped forward, a river of blood pooling across the floor.
Elena gasped, covering her mouth, eyes filling with tears.
Jason just stood there, staring. Rain dripped from his hair into the puddle of Knox's blood.
On the wall behind the body, scrawled in crimson:
"GOOD PICK. WRONG PICK."
Jason staggered back, chest heaving. His phone buzzed. He looked down, fury burning through him.
"NOW YOU UNDERSTAND. EVERY CHOICE IS BLOOD."
Jason hurled the phone across the office, smashing it against the wall. He dropped to his knees in Knox's blood, fists clenched, shaking.
Elena knelt beside him, hands trembling. "Jason… this isn't your fault."
Jason's laugh was low, bitter, broken. "Everything's my fault."
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Ending Cliffhanger
Jason sat in Knox's blood, staring at his own reflection in the window—rain streaking down the glass, making it look like he was crying even when he wasn't.
Elena whispered, "What do we do now?"
Jason turned his head toward her, eyes dark and hollow. "We stop playing. He's not the hunter anymore."
Elena frowned. "What are you saying?"
Jason stood, Knox's blood dripping off his hands, crowbar heavy in his grip.
"I'm saying I don't care how many laws I break, how many bones I shatter, or how much blood I spill—" His voice was low, feral. "I'm going to find that fucker. And when I do, I'm not putting him in cuffs. I'm putting him in the ground."
Behind them, the office lights flickered.
The camera shifts to the hallway outside, where a figure stands at the end, half-hidden in shadow. The mask gleams faintly in the dark, head tilted, watching.