How Accurate Is 'Disco Bloodbath' To Real Events?

"Please, stop pushing. I can't take this anymore." The concert venue is packed tight. A man behind me keeps pressing into my backside. I'm wearing a mini skirt today with a thong underneath, and it only makes the situation worse. He lifts my skirt and presses himself against my hips. As the atmosphere heats up, someone in front of me slams into me, and I stumble back a step. My body stiffens as I feel like something just slid inside me.

"You're scared of me...terrified even, but you still want me so bad." He whispered huskily. Danielle Owens is a 24 years old college student, saddled with the responsibility of raising her younger brother and taking care of her deadbeat father. With bills to settle and debts to pay, Danielle works as a stripper in a nightclub, hoping to make ends meet and still lead a normal life. Her life however, is turned around suddenly, when she is noticed by a cruel, cold hearted and arrogant Mafia Boss, who will stop at nothing to have her in his bed, much to her displeasure. Her long time crush at school, also noticed her for the first time and things get even more crazy for Danielle, as she's thrown into a word of hurt, betrayal, humiliation, love and glamour. What does she do, when she finds out she actually needs the help of her ruthless mafia boss?

Best of friends dying one by one...maybe one of them is the culprit? Changing bodies, surviving high school, and brewing drama—staples in the lives of six friends in just another, normal, adolescent-fuming high school in the countryside, but all is shattered when they start dying one by one. A campy rendition of a classic whodunnit, The Midnight Club Murders offers fast-paced storytelling with plot acrobatics, melodramatic conversations, and suspenseful hills to absolutely DIE on, just waiting for you.

A string of sexual assault cases sweeps through Fenborough, and all the evidence points toward me. In just a single night, I've become the prime suspect and target of everyone's anger. The moment I get home, my wife, Natalie Parker, glares at me with hatred and disgust. "A monster like you doesn't deserve to be called a human!" As she rages at me, she dumps a bottle of sulfuric acid on my crotch. The agonizing pain makes me collapse onto the floor, unable to move. The next day, she brings another man to the house—Harvey Green. He looks down at me and says, "So you're nothing but a scumbag. No wonder she detests you so much." Natalie also eyes me coldly, her words cutting as she says, "Why would I keep a tainted piece of trash like you around? Just the sight of you disgusts me." I refuse to believe that I would ever commit such a crime, so I secretly arrange for a DNA test—but the results prove that my DNA is a match with the culprit's. My blood runs cold. A wave of despair washes over me. Once Natalie sees the results, she brings the victims to the house. They charge at me, smashing glass bottles against my head and breaking my legs with bats. When my parents rush over and see this, they faint on the spot. I end up dying on the operating table. Suddenly, my eyes open again. I've been reborn. I've returned to the day the crimes took place.

It’s end of October 1985 and the crumbling river town of Dubois, Iowa is shocked by the gruesome murder of one of the pillars of the community. Detective David Carlson has no motive, no evidence, and only one lead: the macabre local legend of “Boris Orlof,” a late night horror movie host who burned to death during a stage performance at the drive-in on Halloween night twenty years ago and the teenage loner obsessed with keeping his memory alive. The body count is rising and the darkness that hangs over the town grows by the hour. Time is running out as Carlson desperately chases shadows into a nightmare world of living horrors. On Halloween the drive-in re-opens at midnight for a show no one will ever forget. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

Desperate for money, I planned a livestream exploring the home of a notorious serial killer in the dead of night. I thought it would be nothing more than a publicity stunt to attract viewers. I was wrong. What started as a reckless grab for attention turned into the most terrifying night of my life and a brutal lesson in what it truly meant to stare death in the face.