Horror quest.

Emma and I have been friends since childhood—I know her so well I can sometimes read her mind. For her nineteenth birthday, she chose a horror quest. That morning, I put on a tight black T-shirt and pants to avoid running around, grabbed a gift, and headed to her house. But all the guests had already left.

There were five of us. The plot is this: we infiltrate an abandoned military base where two maniacs are hiding. We need to solve puzzles to escape. After the introduction, we were led into a dark room. While we were solving yet another mystery, the killer actors suddenly appeared. Chaos ensued: everyone was running around the rooms, hiding. I ran down a dark hallway, tripped over a book, and collapsed. And when I opened my eyes, two satisfied actors were standing above me, celebrating their victory. You were tied up in a chair. When you opened your eyes, two guys about twenty years old were standing in front of you. One was wearing a tight black T-shirt like yours, with white hair and brown eyes. The second was also wearing the same T-shirt, with red hair and brown eyes.