Relax — it’s just a water gun. Senior Assassin is officially back, and suddenly every senior is living in a 24/7 stealth mission. If you’re new to the chaos, here’s the deal: an anonymous facilitator assigns you a target, and you have exactly one week to hunt them down with a squirt gun, all while praying you don’t get eliminated by your own assassin in the process.
To document a successful “kill,” students must submit video evidence to @gpsseniorassassin2026, an anonymous Instagram account that serves as the game’s central hub. This account acts as the ultimate arbiter, overseeing everything from target assignments to rule disputes.
“We would hope everyone plays a fair game and be truthful, which everyone has up to this point,” [Anonymous account] said.
The game is supposed to be a fun way to wrap up senior year, but everyone’s dying to know: who’s actually running it? While the facilitator wishes to remain anonymous, it is that way for a reason.
“I want to be anonymous for the simple fact that I don’t want people bombarding my personal life,” [Anonymous account] said. “If anyone needs something, they can just contact this account and not my personal accounts.”
But privacy isn’t the only concern. Despite repeated administrative warnings following an incident where a player was mistaken for a real gunman, many students still defend the game. Sam Beleshi ’26, a first-round survivor, believes this senior tradition is unique from the rest.
“It’s much more hands-on, and everybody can compete,” Beleshi said. “Most senior traditions don’t have the element of surprise that this does.”
People don’t just take this game seriously for no reason. With each participant chipping in a $7 entry fee, the winner is set to take home a total of $907.70 — a payout that has transformed the casual game into an all-out race for the cash.
“It’s not a very enjoyable game, if I’m being honest,” Beleshi said. “It’s stressful being tracked down by someone every 24/7, but it’s really just the money keeping me going.”
So, how do you actually win? For Ellie Sahutske ’26, it’s not just about luck — everyone is secretly developing their own strategies just to stay in the running.
“A lot of people either just stay in their houses or stay at other people’s houses,” Sahutske said. “Like [anonymous friend] is staying at their grandmother’s house.”
Between busy end-of-year schedules and extreme tactics, like hiding under a car for an hour only for a parent to blow your cover, the game is getting harder to manage. Many now believe the account is intentionally fueling the drama.
“The game gets very competitive and tensions rise because the facilitator’s anonymity allows them to assign ‘messy’ targets they wouldn’t otherwise… often putting friends against one another,” Sahutske said.
The ongoing drama often requires the facilitator to justify their decisions to frustrated players. Despite the constant stream of DMs and callouts, the person behind the account remains firm, insisting that the logistical hurdles are simply part of the experience.
“There will never be perfect rules for everyone. Someone is always complaining, but at the end of the day, it’s just a game,” [Anonymous account] said.
