Chapter 113: Horror Party

As the sun began to rise on Friday, a bus carrying 31 female artists from the Sacred Valley arrived at Malibu Beach. It parked in front of a single-family villa.

Jenna Jameson rose from her seat at the front of the bus and addressed the women with authority, "Ladies, everyone here today is a heavyweight in Hollywood. Impress them, and you know what comes next…" Jenna let the unspoken implications hang in the air, leaving the young women to decipher the message. "Also, once you leave this place, your lips stay sealed."

With 31 female artists onboard, the bus reached the villa's entrance. Bruce, standing on the porch, cast a critical eye over the newcomers, indicating that no rearview was as valuable as gold.

Approaching the door, the female artists encountered Bruce's blockade. "Leave all electronic devices, including mobile phones," he instructed, "and I'll ensure their safekeeping."

This had been arranged in advance, and the artists willingly surrendered their phones, sealing them in labeled plastic bags, each bearing their name.

Bruce turned to Jenna and said, "The stylists and costume designers are here. Please take them in."

Jenna ushered the artists into the villa's makeshift dressing room, where they underwent makeup and donned special outfits before familiarizing themselves with the venue and rehearsing their roles.

Meanwhile, cars began arriving one after another. Mene, arriving in a van, supervised the party company personnel unloading wine, drinks, and food. Another team worked on decorating the venue.

As dusk fell, Mene joined Bruce on the porch, cracked open an iced Coke, took a long swig, and wiped his mouth. "Holding a high-end party like this, the money feels like it's made of paper. If it were my money, I'd declare bankruptcy," he commented.

Having been involved since the beginning, Mene continued, "Bruce, even fifty thousand dollars doesn't seem enough, right?"

Bruce responded with wisdom, "You don't understand; this is an investment. Only through investment can you expect returns."

Mene mused, "No wonder I've been in this business for years and I'm still just a small-time actor."

As darkness fell, Martin's invited guests started to arrive. Benjamin was the first, and he greeted Martin with a warm hug and a fang pendant that Martin had given him. "I told folks back in Atlanta that Martin Davis never forgets old friends. See these assholes? Who'd dare laugh at them now? Not me."

Martin chuckled, "I'll introduce you to some friends later, all from the film industry."

Robert Patrick arrived soon after, followed by Michel Gondry and Alexandre Aja, who had come together.

jaume Serra and Wes Craven were the last to arrive.

Martin introduced his guests, and the conversation gravitated towards Wes Craven and the world of horror movies.

As they enjoyed drinks and waited for the night to deepen, Martin stepped to the door and raised his voice, "Gentlemen, tonight, ghosts are among us, experts at devouring souls. My sincere advice: protect your souls!"

Laughter erupted from the crowd. Anyone who could attend was enjoying themselves. Martin added with a grin, "We're having a little competition tonight. Whoever takes off their pants first makes a reservation at a Michelin-starred restaurant for a French meal tomorrow."

Craven chimed in, "What an idea! Let's see who can resist the urge the longest!"

Benjamin joked, " Bruce, find me a chain lock. When I lock my waistband, you hide the key."

Even the usually reserved Jaume playfully hugged Benjamin's neck.

Craven declared, "I'm holding out till the end."

Martin swung the door open, revealing the villa's courtyard and swimming pool area, now shrouded in darkness. Only a sliver of a crescent moon illuminated the sky.

Alexander led the way outside, saying, "In my movie 'High Tension,' two girls went out at night, and something horrifying happened out of nowhere..."

Everyone followed suit, but their path was soon blocked by five figures in the nearby open space. The music blared, causing their forms to tremble.

Their movements were unnatural, reminiscent of zombies or robotic humanoids. Dim lights flickered to life, revealing five tall women in gray nurse uniforms, their backs to Martin's group.

With the music's beat, their bodies twitched and writhed, every joint seeming to possess a mind of its own, as if they sought to escape their seductive forms and brandish the sharp knives that seemed out of place in their hands.

Their contorted bodies, mummified bandages, and incoherent muttering left the artists breathless.

The moment the nurses turned to face them, raising their horned knives and advancing with eerie, stiff steps, the dim light revealed their grotesque, pimple-covered faces, creating a stark contrast between their ugly exteriors and their seductive forms.

Michel, a Frenchman known for his romantic leanings, quipped, "Why am I finding them alluring? Is there something wrong with me?"

Alexander echoed, "Me too."

As the female nurses approached within five meters, they abruptly halted. Their knives gleamed ominously as they moved mechanically, exuding an air of malevolence.

Benjamin couldn't help but clutch his waistband, fastening it securely. It wasn't that he didn't want to win the contest; it was just that the prize was too expensive.

Martin, known for his exuberance, released a hot breath into the cool night air.

A group of enthusiasts!

Craven gazed at the eerie nurse with intrigue and remarked, "This one is a night to remember! Combining impulse and mortal peril, Martin, you truly have a gift!"

"Guys, I'll treat you to the best French Restaurant tomorrow," declared the emotional actor, Patrick. He unfastened his belt and advanced eagerly, saying, "I definitely don't want to lose, but I can't seem to control myself." He shot a glance at the seductive yet sinister nurses. "Martin, you devil, you're making me feel like a pervert."

Martin gathered everyone around the nurse and approached the edge of the swimming pool. "Folks, there's lunch tomorrow, but what about drinks tonight?"

A sudden snap echoed, causing Jaume to jump back in alarm.

A pale hand emerged from the pool, slowly pulling a figure out of the water. The man's head hung low, wet black hair obscuring his face. His thin, drenched white attire clung to his body, tantalizingly revealing yet obscuring what lay beneath.

Sadako emerged from the water, mirroring her eerie appearance from the movies, crawling slowly toward the group.

With a loud crash, the dressing room door nearby burst open, and a female vampire with blue eyes and fangs, clad in leather and chains, pounced on a female werewolf. In their fierce battle, clothing was torn to shreds.

Werewolves and vampires had been set to appear early, and though Martin may have made a mistake, the effect was certainly impressive.

Michel, feeling inherently romantic, stepped forward and approached Sadako. Gazing at her with her wet, hair-obscured face, he quipped, "Sadako, it's time to unveil your eloquence!" He shouted to the vampire and werewolf, "Enough of this nonsense, give me something thrilling—real swords and guns!"

Several succubi rushed forward, their long tails trailing behind them, grabbing the ends of their Pink Bottle like tails and watching the ferocious tug-of-war between the female werewolf and vampire. In the heat of battle, their garments were torn to shreds.

The female werewolf and vampire disarmed each other and launched into a genuine, intense battle.

Werewolves and vampires had taken center stage early, and though Martin might have made an error, the result was undoubtedly impressive.

"I want to be a demon hunter!" declared Alexander Aja, rushing into the fray against werewolves and vampires, wielding a demon-slaying gun against the dark, evil creatures.

The battle escalated in an instant.

Footsteps approached from the side of the swimming pool, revealing a group of zombies in tattered clothing. Their bodies were gray, faces blue, with black and red blood and bits of flesh adorning their mouths.

Benjamin rushed forward and shouted, "The zombies are mine! No one can take them from me!" The San Francisco Valley's version of "Night of the Living Dead" was underway.

Across the pool, spotlights illuminated a small, temporary stage, where several Latina snake girls emerged. Draped in pythons that concealed their sensitive areas, Jaumr couldn't help but notice that the pythons all emerged from the same place.

As if channeling Salma Hayek, the snake girls danced to the tune of "From Dusk Till Dawn."

This left Jaume enthralled, prompting him to wade through the waist-deep water of the pool, ignoring its long, narrow expanse, and rush onto the stage to join their dance.

Craven turned to Martin and remarked, "Why didn't I get to know you sooner? Your parties are incredibly creative." He glanced down and continued, "Ordinary stimuli have no effect on me, but now I'm thoroughly stirred. Martin, you need to host more parties like this in the future, and make sure to invite me every time!"

Martin replied without hesitation, "No problem."

If he hosts more parties like this, he might go bankrupt, but he continued, "Wes, I've prepared a special surprise for you today. Follow me; your offspring awaits."

The two crossed a lawn and entered the villa's hall, bathed in bright light, where many female artists were gathered.

At the front of the hall, Freddy and Jason were locked in a life-and-death struggle. Freddy's Pink bottle shaped claws pierced Jason's body, while Jason's machete found its mark in Freddy's vitals.

The two legendary madmen of Hollywood's history let out a chilling battle cry.