Watching horror movies can become tedious for a variety of reasons, but one that stands out to me is that I can’t relate to any of the situations we’re supposed to care about. For instance, I don’t have parents who were in a lynch mob responsible for the death of a pedophile, and my brother isn’t an immortal force of evil. It’s situations like these that got me thinking: What are some horror movie situations that not only me, but all of Northwestern can connect to? Without further ado, enjoy scenes from five hypothetical Northwestern-themed horror movies.
MidTerminator
As Jack Everyman wakes up on a Tuesday morning after a night at The Keg, he makes a startling realization: He has a midterm today that he hasn’t studied for. Frantically skipping through his feeble notes on renaissance art, he sprints to class. As the packet is laid down in front of him, ghoulish hands made of smoke burst from the pages and proceed to strangle Jack. As the life is squeezed from Jack’s body, the words on the page speak up.
“Identify this painting, Jack.”
“I don’t know!”
“It’s by Raphael, Jack! Come up with a name and my grip will loosen!”
“Uh… Madonna of the Rocks?!”
“That’s Da Vinci, you fool!” the grip tightens. “Name. The. Painting.”
“Just let me fail…” The consciousness slowly went out of Jack’s body. No other student ever saw the hands or heard the voice of the midterm. All they ever saw was Jack Everyman walk into a class and pass out on top of an incomplete art history test.
Hot Cookies from Hell
The eager students crowd the dining hall of Hinman, each one with one goal in mind: Get to the hot cookie bar. As the mass of cookie-fiends begins to circulate, they begin to realize that something isn’t right. One by one, all who consumed the hot cookies begin to convulse and sweat. Their vision begins to blur and their knees grow weak. Soon, all are on the ground shaking and coughing, their bodies in complete disarray. Before long, the grip of death has engulfed Hinman. From the kitchens they come, the men in protective suits and gas masks.
“Bag the students, and make sure to mark the plump ones,” the leader barks, and the rest of the men jump to action. “Hurry along now! You know that the Burger King fry-cooks don’t like it when their meat is late to arrive!”
"But Boss," a freshly-recruited goon calls out. "Why doesn't Burger King just use regular meat?"
"'Regular meat?'" chuckes the boss. "The meat of the student body is infinitely more pure than the processed butchery that other fast food chains use."
"But won't the other students find out?"
"They don't care! As long as the food cures hangovers, we can continue harvesting as many of them as we want!"
At this, the men and their leader laughed in unison, secure in their knowledge that Northwestern students will never know what they’re really eating late at night…
The CA from Outer Space
The emails have come like clockwork each night. “Hey erryone! Donuts and OJ in the lounge downstairs! Come and hang out with the best CA evahhhh!” The unnaturally positive attitude of community assistant Marybeth started out as charming and inviting, but every moment after the third day has become increasingly off-putting. Who can stay so positive all the time? How does she plan all of these events? To answer these questions, naïve freshman Jeff McGuffin decides to forego getting hammered at Lodge in lieu of attending one of Marybeth’s “Fun Fun Friday Events.” Jeff goes to the lounge of his residence hall to find Marybeth sitting alone, staring out the window with her big, toothy smile. Her head turns slowly towards Jeff. “I’m so glad you could come to my event! It’s going to be the best night EVER!” Just as her last word hits a new level of perkiness, piercing lights break through the windows and blind Jeff.
Marybeth slowly rises into the air. “Now you can play Apples to Apples and Scrabble on your Fridays forever!” she intoned, her friendliness twisting into malice.
Jeff finds himself thrust into the air, pulled into the light by some force beyond his control.
"Let me go!" he screams, to no avail. "Why are you doing this to me?!"
"My people are lonely, Jeffrey. We need friends to play games with us forever and ever and ev-"
"No!" Jeff interrupted, struggling desperately. "I'm going to go hang out and drink with people I kinda know 'cause that's what people do!"
"Not anymore, Jeffrey." With Marybeth's last smiling comment, Jeff was thrust into the abyss of the light and was never seen again.
A Haze of Blood
Mary Sue couldn’t believe what was happening: Chet Haze, rapper and gentleman extraordinaire, was looking at her from across the room of the party. She shyly averted her gaze, embarrassed that she had made eye contact with the legend himself. As she sheepishly looked back, she nearly gasped – he was walking toward her in a swaggering stride. Biting her lip, Mary Sue tried to appear as composed as possible, but she just couldn’t contain her excitement when Chet whispered in her ear. “Hey girl,” he spoke in a devil-may-care manner. “How about we get out of here?” Mary Sue couldn’t utter a word, so she just shook her head “yes.” Extending his hand, which Mary Sue grasped without hesitation, Chet led her up the stairs to a room.
"I've... I've never done anything like this before," Mary Sue whispered.
Chet wrapped his arms around Mary Sue. "It's fine, girl... just like you."
"Oh, you're so charming!" Mary Sue was all shivers as Chet wrapped his arms around her.
"I know I am," and with that Chet began kissing into her neck.
"Chet, I'm nervous..." she felt a slight prickle, but dismissed it. "Chet..." Mary Sue fell to the ground, unconscious, with her neck bleeding out.
"Too easy," Chet smirked as he cleaned his fangs of blood and turned to find his next victim.
The Election Day of the Dead
Shambling students shuffle across the streets, a mob full of fury but utterly without sense or reason. The only sounds that can be heard around campus are the moans and shrieks of a student body in frenzy. Atop Swift Hall, survivors Rick and Tom sat scoping out the mass of students through their guns.
“Zombies, man,” Rick muttered. “What did this to them? Sickness? Science experiment gone wrong?”
“Worse,” Tom intoned, as solemnly as was humanly possible. “Only one thing could’ve happened that would turn these perfectly fine students into a vicious pack of undead…”
Nervous to ask, Rick mustered up the bulk of his courage to utter a “What?”
Turning to Rick, Tom explained it all. “Romney won the election.”
“No… no, that’s impossible! No, Tom you’re a liar!” Rick pointed his gun at Tom. “Romney lost! He had to!”
“He won, Rick! Put your gun down and calm down.”
“Calm down? Willard Mitt Romney just won the election! How can I calm down? How can you calm down? Unless…” Rick sighted his rifle. “Tom… you voted for Romney, didn’t you”
A single tear rolled down Tom’s cheek. “He has binders full of women, Rick. Whole binders full of them!”
Rick pulled the trigger. Tom fell from the roof. Nov. 7 continued as Northwestern tore itself apart.