Format:

Impulse Tracker 2.14v3 IT 2.14

Size:

398000 bytes

BPM:

126

Speed:

6

Channels:

16

Song Length:

38

Samples:

38

Patterns:

52

Tracks:

1

Track length:

832

SHA1:

a71892f87471b8864345bbb68e6a7b4a7ec8de16

MD5:

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"Come on in," shouts Robert, as you step towards the club entrance. 
"Halloween party night," you think to yourself, seeing hundreds of less
than creative people whose horrible costumes help you to feel better about
your own.

"Oh great, cheezy Euro techno," you remark, "That's enough to get anyone
scared."  Maxwell, dressed in a blue vampire outfit, laughs boldly at your
remark for an entire minute.  He is drunk already.  Ignoring him, you scan
the room.

The costumes range from exotic princesses, to ghouls and zombies.  "Glad
you could make it," says Tiffany, who is dressed as some sort of
bunny-like creature.  You smile at her quickly and then proceed to scan
the room.  Intuition told you this was going to be a miserable night, but
after tireless efforts you were persuaded to attend.  "Oh well," you think
to yourself.  "I'm here already.  Might as well stay and get a drink or
something."

You turn your sight back to Robert, only it isn't Robert.  "Why is he
staring at me like that?"  Your eyes shift to your shorter companion
Tiffany, who gives the same vacant stare.  You look around and see that
the entire room now focuses on your presence.  Something is wrong.  The
music loses its dance quality and instead resembles music straight from
the pits of hell.  You jump as someone grabs your neck from behind. 
Just barely escaping from the grasp, you look behind you and see no one.

You would assume that this is all just an elaborate prank, if the mood
was not so eerily surreal, so perfectly choreographed.  The crowd steps
towards you slowly.  You panic.  "What's going on," you say out loud. 
These costumes looked like three dollar immitations which were bought on a
whim a few moments ago, but now they look so hideously real.

You begin to shiver.  Someone touches your arm.  You run.  Everywhere you
look, they are there, in large numbers, motioning towards you at an
impossibly slow pace.  "Was that Maxwell?  Where are his eyes!!!!!"  You
spot a small emergency exit, and duck through the crowds of surrounding
monsters which claw at you as you scurry past them.  Upon opening the
door, you scream as you see none other than yourself waiting to greet
you.  Your hands extend towards your neck, and within moments you become
one of the dead.

• http://ftp.modland.com/pub/modules/Impulsetracker/The Hornet
• http://ftp.modland.com/pub/modules/Impulsetracker/The Hornet/a halloween tale.it