Slowly, you open the door and flick on the light switch. Nothing happens. You figure the lights must be out — but fortunately, you came prepared with a flashlight. You shine the light around the space, and things appear normal: There are boxes stacked in piles, storage containers, old winter coats. You wander through the mess, wondering if the banging came from a fallen box or a window that was left open. Your heartbeat races as you move your flashlight around the garage. You know it’s nothing, you’re just scaring yourself, but still, there’s something eerie about this space. Then, you see it: the creaky open window. Of course. You laugh, reach out and close it, then turn back, eager to let the other party guests know about the source of the mysterious noise. But as you whip around, you come face to face with a hunting knife, glistening in the moonlight, held by none other than Ghostface. You’re alone, with nowhere to turn.