Every spring, as seniors begin counting down the final weeks of high school, a new kind of competition takes shape — one that leaves hallways untouched but turns streets, driveways and sidewalks into zones of calculated risk. Senior Assassin, a game rooted in tradition and shared by graduating classes across the country, transforms the senior class into a field of opponents, all chasing the same goal.
The rules are straightforward. Each participant pays a small fee to enter, building a prize pool that will eventually go to a single winner. At the start of the game, each player is assigned a target, another senior, and is responsible for eliminating that person using a water gun. Once a target is eliminated, the assassin takes on the next assignment, continuing until they themselves are eliminated or win. Missing an elimination deadline, typically set at two to three days, results in removal from the game.
To keep the process moving, many games are run through an app called Splash, which gives players a general idea of their target’s location. The information is limited but effective enough to raise tension during everyday routines. A simple alert is often all it takes to turn a normal afternoon into a high stakes encounter. Even routine trips — picking up coffee, leaving practice or heading home — can turn into opportunities or ambushes.
There are rules in place to maintain order. No eliminations may occur on school property or during school hours. Events like games, rehearsals or club meetings are also protected windows of time. These restrictions disappear once school events end or players leave the property, and the game resumes immediately. Timing becomes everything, and players are constantly aware of when and where they are safe.
To avoid being eliminated, participants are allowed to wear safety items: goggles or inflatable floaties. As long as one or both of these, depending on the particular game’s rules, is worn visibly and correctly, it offers protection. These items have become an iconic part of the game, and seeing seniors walk around town or enter stores in full water gear has become a familiar sight. For some, these items are used sparingly, with students relying on speed to quickly escape from opponents. For others, they are worn constantly, and never come off. They serve both as a shield and a signal, immediately marking someone as part of the game.
Adding to the intensity is the weekly purge. During this period, a set group of players is made vulnerable, and safety items no longer provide immunity for those on the list. These designated players can be eliminated by anyone still active in the game. The purge is designed to increase pressure and force movement, especially as the game begins to slow. It also introduces new risks, as even the most cautious players can find themselves suddenly exposed. It’s a moment of reset that keeps the momentum alive and the players alert.
As the weeks go on, eliminations become harder to earn. Many players take extra precautions, change routines, or avoid public areas altogether. Some plan quietly with others, while others work alone. The strategy deepens, and the pace slows, but the tension continues to rise. Trust becomes rare, and every interaction is second guessed.
Despite the competitive nature, the game holds a different meaning for many seniors. It marks a shared chapter near the end of their time together. The excitement, the stress and the occasional surprise encounter become memories that stand apart from the academic demands over the past decade of school.
Senior Assassin continues to be one of the most anticipated parts of the spring semester. It offers friendly rivalry, tradition and just enough unpredictability to keep every participant on edge until the very end.
One target. One chance. One winner.
