"Hello, and welcome to... the morgue. I'm Noah Foster, and you're listening to Lakewood's own horror-based podcast, keeping you updated on all things spooky."
“Hello, horror fans. It’s been two days since the news of David Karofsky spread and based on what I’ve seen on social media, the grizzly reality of how he died is starting to settle in with everyone. I’ve seen Rest-In-Peace posts, saw the rock outside ol’ McKinley redecorated, and even heard about his funeral. But from what I can tell, people aren’t sure how to feel.”
“Grief is a tricky thing. How are you supposed to feel after something like that is revealed? Especially in a town known as Murderville? Should you be furious, ready to take revenge on whomever took the life of McKinley’s resident jock? Should you be sad? Or should you be frightened, knowing that the murders that happened both forty and twenty years ago could potentially be making another repeat?
I personally was never close with David. I’m a bit too old to be close with him. I did, however, know his father, Paul. I was a sophomore when he was a senior at McKinley High. We weren’t close; whereas I was making films with Audrey Jensen in the AV room, Paul was throwing footballs on the field with Burt Hummel, basking in the glory of being a high school senior with a full ride scholarship. But I can most definitely feel for him.
You guys know my story. Twenty years ago I was a part of the repeat of The Night of Brandon James, otherwise known as the era of The Lakewood Six. I was one of said six students that survived the attacks of Piper Shaw. I watched as my fellow classmates, my friends, were brutally murdered at the hands of someone who decided to pull a sadistic interpretation of Jack Torrance. And back then, I didn’t know how to feel about what was going on around me. It was like everywhere I looked I was surrounded by death. I still get nightmares about finding out about Riley Marra.
David’s obituary listed him as a good student; a nice kid. Like I said before I didn’t know him personally, so I have to take that statement at first glance. But what I want to know, is what provoked this new killer to take David’s life? What did David do? In the original story, the victims were those who attacked Brandon James because of his appearance. In the first repeat, twenty years ago, the victims were those connected to Emma Duval. But what about this time? What did David do to cause this to happen to him? Coincidences don’t just happen, there’s always a reason. One little flick to send someone over the edge to cause a chain reaction — a link of murders tying the anniversary every twenty years. So what secrets did David hide under his blazer?
I’ll leave the speculation up to you, listeners. Rest In Peace, David Karofsky. My condolences go out to Paul Karofsky and the rest of his family. This is Noah Foster, closing out another episode of the morgue.”
“Hello, faithful listeners, and welcome back to... the morgue. Today’s topic? Well, it’s everyone’s favorite time of the year: Lakewood’s Annual Fall Carnival. Because, why not throw a carnival around the anniversary of the one thing that put Lakewood on the map forty years ago?”
“Let’s start from the beginning. For those of you who are new, you may not know about the history of the carnival. It started maybe... Thirty-five years ago. Those of you who know Lakewood’s history, you’ll know that’s five years after The Night of Brandon James. I could go on and on about Brandon James, but let’s stick to the carnival.
The idea came about by the parents of a few of McKinley’s students after said students were found attempting to pull pranks when the five year anniversary of The Night of Brandon James was coming up. They had plans to scare the town; dress up in Brandon’s infamous mask and wreak havoc, just like any morbid teenager would want to do. The parents took the idea to the town hall, and after sending around a petition, fundraising started. The point of it all was to keep kids so focused on the carnival, on having fun with friends rather than attempting to remind Lakewood of what happened with Brandon James. Comparing that to now, it seemed like it was a lot simpler back then.
Nevertheless, the tradition kept up. And every year, on the 25th of October, the carnival comes back to life to keep people’s minds off the impending anniversary. Which, I don’t understand why. It’s not like The Night of Brandon James is such a horrible thing. People died, yeah, but if anything it should be kept as a reminder of how badly ridicule and discrimination can affect someone after years of it happening. That’s what I’d do if I was in Mayor Maddox’s position, anyways. Instead of trying to get everyone to forget about what happened to Brandon, and to Piper, and the others we lost twenty years ago, why not... embrace it? Make a statement out of what happened instead of trying to ignore what happened. It makes more sense.
Traditions die hard. And it seems like the residents of Lakewood are keeping those traditions by masking the fear they have of Lakewood’s old masked killer. The tilt-a-whirl must tilt, the cotton candy must be cotton-y, and the Lady of the Lake must be crowned. The carnival has always been there, whether you liked it or not, every year at the same time of year. Nothing has changed, even when people kept dying.
Every year, when the carnival comes around, I get this off feeling. This feeling like something big is supposed to be happening. But maybe, maybe that’s just my body’s reaction compared to what I went through twenty years ago. Maybe that’s just something that’s natural to me, now. Either way, it’s happened again this year. And I get this feeling that this year, on the anniversary of The Night of Brandon James, something bad is going to happen.
Stay safe out there, Lakewood. This is Noah Foster, closing out another episode of the morgue.”
