Lost girls

London and Stella wander in the dark, hunting a bonfire. They split up. Big mistake. Savannah finds Stella first, claims the land as her own, and snaps a zip-tie around Stella’s wrists before the girl can backpedal. “We’re just looking for a fire,” Stella blurts. Savannah tells her to help find London instead. Stella bolts. Savannah hunts again, snares London, pins her hands the same way, and orders her toward the house. London takes off too. The girls collide, stumble into an old shed, and scrape their wrists raw trying to snap the ties. Savannah steps through the door like she owns the night. She lashes them tight, stuffs gags between their teeth, then peels off their shoes and socks one by one. She tickles London’s bare soles until the muffled laughter turns frantic, then moves to Stella and works the same cruel rhythm. Finished, Savannah leaves them twisting. Hours later they wriggle loose, stumble outside, and push through the trees until they spot a cabin. The door creaks. Inside sits Savannah wearing a smooth doll mask, staring straight at them. They back out fast and disappear into the dark.