I was at a party in the house of a football player. There was a big table covered with little pills of all sizes and colors. We were playing a game: pop a pill without knowing what it is or what it will do to you, and answer any questions that anyone might ask you. I'd seen a guy take a white pill and then fall over immediately, so I knew that when my turn came I'd avoid the white pills. I took a blue pill instead, and just as someone was about to ask me a question, everything became hazy and eventually black.
When I regained awareness, I was bent over a bucket which was filled to the brim with my puke. I could feel my body heaving, and the liquid rising from my stomach, and I puked again. I spat a few times to get rid of the excess in my mouth, and could taste the nastiness of it. I looked up and saw a teacher, named Mr. Weimer. I looked around and assumed that I must be in his house. He helped me up and took me to the living room where he assisted me in lying down on the couch.
"I happened to walk by the house, and saw what they were doing to you."
"What? Who? What did they do to me?"
"You had taken some kind of pill, and had passed out. They were beating you, and were planning on raping you when I arrived."
We were silent for a few minutes, until I noticed something on the ceiling in the corner of the room. There was a big red splotch, and trickles of red liquid oozing down the walls. I looked at Mr. Weimer and asked him, "Um.. what is that? It looks like blood." He glanced in the direction I was pointing and looked very shocked. "I have no idea..."
"Do you have a flashlight? I'll check it out for you."
"Are you sure? You're pretty sick.. the sight of anything gruesome might make you throw up again."
"It's all right. I like attics."
He handed me a flashlight and I walked up the attic stairs. There was a light switch that I flipped when I reached the top, and I could see a huge window all the way across the room. The attic seemed to be larger than the house itself, and I wondered how that was possible. As I walked towards the corner of the room where the blood had been seeping through the ceiling, I glanced at the contents of the attic. The first thing I saw was a head on a table; it was obviously a plastic head, but it looked just like Jack Nicholson and I could've sworn that he winked and smiled at me just like he did in The Shining before yelling out "Heeeeeere's Johnny!" I tried not to pay too much attention to him and kept walking.
When I finally did reach the end of the room, I noticed that the window was broken, and there was a huge mess to the right of it. There were dead mice all over the place, but they hadn't died of natural causes or been caught in any traps. I knelt next to them to take a closer look and saw something horrible: mice were everywhere, sacrificed, in disgusting positions. One was on its back, it's ribcage pulled open to reveal it's entrails; another was at a miniature desk that was probably pulled from a dollhouse, it's head hanging off by a thread; and another was crucified like Jesus.
I was horrified and stood up again to take another look around the room. Directly across from the mouse massacre was a blood-soaked blanket over a blood-soaked mattress. The blanket seemed to be breathing. I gasped, and whatever had been lying on the mattress woke up. I blacked out.