The frigid morning air roused my shivering body into a wakeful state. My mind wasn't quite there, and I felt like I'd just suffered a pretty decent amount of head trauma. It was dark, too dark for what time it must have been... Where the hell was I? The smell of manure and rotting hay filled my nostrils, and I vomited the little food that was left in my stomach all over the cement floor. My mouth was dry—really dry—what I would have given for a glass of water. Where was I, and what day was it? What had happened last night? Many questions awaited my unprepared head.
It took my standing up to realized how weak I was. I couldn't stop shaking, partly due to exhaustion and partly due to cold. I must have seriously exerted myself last night over something. A small lightbulb lay in the corner of what now appeared to be an abandoned farm. I pulled the string, fearing what quickly became a reality. No electricity... damn. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, I looked at what was left of my clothes. My T-shirt was torn to the point of shreds, covered in what must have been my own blood, and lots and lots of mud (I hoped). My shoes were nowhere to be seen, on one foot a sock remained, covered in mud, the other was noticeably missing. All that was left of my trousers was one pant leg, resembling something I'd never seen before... It was coonskin! Right then I remembered last night was Freakfest. I had dressed up as Davey Crockett, but where was my trusty axe, and who would take just one pant leg?
I felt a strange object in my pocket and my spirits finally began to rise as I felt the cool comfort of my Samsung in my bloody hand, a comfort that faded quickly as I raised it to my face. To my dismay, not only was it covered in mud, but the fancy ""touch"" screen that I had paid so much extra for had been smashed to bits (at least now I would get to finally try putting it in the blender like that guy on YouTube). I had to find a way to get out of this place! The only way out was the main double-door, and after giving it a few hard kicks, I soon realized it was immobile, locked from the other side. My heart was pounding in my ears as the adrenaline kicked in...was I going to die in here?
Just then I saw it: a small broken window at the second level of the barn. The darkness had hidden it from my dreary eyes, but now it was as clear as day. I scaled a few old hay bales, and just managed to hoist myself through, falling hard on the other side. The building looked familiar, a bunch of hay bales and pieces of wood were stacked on the outside of the double doors. There were fields in all directions; each one was full of dead crops and bales of hay. I chose the one where I could just barely see a road on the other side... And that's when I saw him.
A dark, hooded figure was heading my way from the road. He seemed to be carrying something heavy looking, and seemed to be in a lot better condition than I. I could have tried running, but I knew I would just pass out right away. It was better to save my little strength for the coming confrontation. As he drew nearer and it became clear the object he was holding was some sort of melee weapon, I fell to my knees and began to cry, my life flashing before my eyes.
""Please, spare me!"" I yelled to my ever-approaching captor.
""Lahr, is that you?""
I was confused, and shaking again from the cold. ""You look pretty fucked up man, I heard from Cindy you got really blasted and tried to pick a fight with some guy from the wrestling team.""
It was Steve, my roommate, and he was carrying my lost axe.
""Found this lying near the house you got in that fight at. Too bad you didn't use it, haha.
Maybe it would have helped... probably not though, by the looks of it.""
I forced a laugh.
""Man I thought you were coming to kill me, how'd I end up on the floor of a barn?""
Steve looked confused.
""You don't remember? You bet Mike a case of beer that you could stay the night in the old abandoned farm outside of town all night, he and John locked you in... looks like you won.""
""Oh Jesus, that beer better be an import. Hey, you wanna keep that whole crying thing on the down low?"" John laughed as I wiped the tears from my cheeks.
""Yea we'll keep that between you and me, that was one hell of a Freakfest man.""
Have your own Freakfest stories? Send them to Andrew at aplahr@wisc.edu.
