Jen looked around.

"AH!" she heard someone scream.

"You getting this?" she demanded, terrified.

"What page was i on? What page?" her best friend replied dazedly.

Her friend stabbed herself in the neck.

"HELP!" she shouted, but no one replied. "HELP!"

There was still not reply.

Her boyfriend, who was next to her, picked up a gun lying on the road.

"What the fuck are you doing, Bill?" she cried, terrified.

He slowly raised it, pointing it to his temple.

She punched the gun out of his hand. "What is you fucking problem?"

"Right now, I mean chicken. Chicken. Chicken," he said smiling.

He tried to pull the gun out of her hand but she used all her strength to pull the magazine out. The bullets spilled onto the ground.

"What is going on?" she wondered, panicked.

Her boyfriend punched her still repeating the word chicken again and again and again. She dodged.

She was a gun mechanic, a weird profession for a girl, but she knew one trick: Pull out the cartridge, activating the system to prevent the shooting. But bill had stopped her.

"Stop it, are you high?" Jen was so confused and angry. "This isn't funny!" Bill wrestled the gun out of her hand. He pulled the trigger and shot himself in the chest.
She stood, terrified, as the bodies of her friends spurted blood around her.

Real World 2014

"AH!" She woke up shivering. Her nightmare was like reliving New York, where the first incident of the killings happened.

"Calm down, Miss," a young doctor said as he approached her.

"You are one of the survivors. You have a rare protein in your brain known as DAWZARI73.

This protein reacts with the neurotoxin to form a non-toxic chemical that is known to cause hallucinations of screaming."

"Oh," Jen said, shocked.
"Sometimes, this protein is produced in other non-immune people, but only produces one scream. You on the other hand had two screams or more, right?"
"Yeah," Jen said, grateful. "Oh, my God, oh, my God," she said and started sobbing.