My friends and I thought it would be a great idea to go to Canada for the weekend and sleep in our sleeping bags outside in a small camping lot we rented. It was extremely cold, so Ian started a fire using some small sticks he found off a huge tree and some fire wood we bought earlier. After tossing and turning around for an hour, we all decided to pack the things up and go to a nearby motel. We met some people there who offered us a drink, and the rest I can't remember. The next morning, I wake up to a loud sound. I'm outside on a lawn chair beside the motel's pool. The sound was coming fom a couple feet away, a low, mumbling sound that sounded almost like an empty stomach grumbling. I stand up to see what it is to find Dave on an old motorcycle. The sound hurts my head and I wish I wouldn't have drank so much last night. "Wake up!" Dave yells at everyone. I'm glad I woke up before he yelled, because I may have punched him for waking me up that way. "Let's go, get in the car and follow me." He says. We obey, because there's not a single chance that Dave will let us go back to sleep. I look for my phone and when I find it, I let out a sigh. It's in the pool. It was probalby there overnight, so it's ruined. We get in the car and follow Dave on his motorcycle while Ian drives. He leads us to a house that looks extremely old and not taken care of. He parks his motorcycle and I get out, but not before glimpsing at the car clock that reads 4:15 am. Dave walks inside the house and as he opens the door, a cloud of smoke follws him. "C'mon inside, boys." He yells. We all look at eachother and follow Dave into the sketchy house.
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