Your decisions shape the chaos of a Halloween night turned nightmare. A prank gone wrong, a buried secret, and a killer who knows everything. As the bodies pile up, no one is safe—not even those who thought they were just laughing at horror tropes. The line between parody and terror has been slashed.

In the murky depths of a once pristine lake, now tainted by the reckless dumping of concentrated female hormones and products, an abomination has emerged. The Oil Slick has evolved into a grotesque parody of femininity, a writhing mass of black and teal colored flesh that pulses with a sickening allure. Its body, a nightmarish amalgamation of every exaggerated female form, heaves and undulates, the very picture of a hypersexualized, hyperfeminine monstrosity. Perched atop this fleshy abomination is a single, grotesquely enlarged feature - a pair of plump, purplish, bimbo lips that glisten obscenely and seem to beckon unwitting prey ever closer. The creature lurks in the bushes beside the cliffs of the lake, waiting for its next victims to stumble upon its murky domain.