With all the toothbrushes tucked behind ears and army helmets and party hats worn to class, it would appear that Brandeis is in the midst of a civil war between the hygiene-obsessed and the birthday partiers. The combat, however, is not about brushing teeth or coming of age, but rather is part of "Assassin," a game spreading through the Brandeis campus.In the game, each person is assigned someone to kill while at the same time is another assassin's target. No one but the assigned killer can take out a target. Within each game, players get a tool to keep them immune from their killer.

At colleges around the country, from the University of Chicago to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, paranoid students hunt their targets with water pistols and tread campus carefully, avoiding anonymous killers.

"[Assassin] makes freaking out fun, and it makes going to class fun because you have to freak out," President of the Brandeis Orthodox Organization (BOO) Jake Sebrow '06 said.

Whatever the weapon or means of killing, each player must strictly adhere to their game's rules, which are clearly stated by the game coordinator.

At Brandeis this fall, three major games of Assassin seized the campus: one run by BOO and the others organized by the East and Rosenthal Quad Councils.

The BOO game lasted for about six weeks and was eventually won by Marc Braunstein '06, who said he set out to win the game from the start.

"I said to myself that I was going to win, I was persistent and I won," Braunstein said.

Students said they signed up for a number of reasons, including social interactions, money incentives and for competition.

Bryan Deutsch '08 said his motivation was two-fold.

"Part of it was the prize," Deutsch said. "But part of it was the victory ... I was so into it, I wanted to win."

Most of Brandeis' games adapted their rules from games organized by BOO. This trend, according to Sebrow, began last year, and was marked by students wearing toothbrushes above their ears, the symbol of immunity for the game.

Sebrow said BOO adapted Assassin from Columbia University's Orthodox community, who organized a similar game. He said Assassin helped connect the Orthodox community and helped members meet new people.

"It creates a communal feeling of being in this thing together," Sebrow said. "It's also the mother of all icebreakers-a great way to meet new people in our community."

Under BOO's rules, players received immunity during the hours of Shabbat and in three campus safe zones-the Beit Midrash in the basement of the Shapiro Residence Hall, where many students study Jewish texts, the Berlin Chapel and Sherman Dining Hall.

At BOO's first general meeting of the semester, game coordinator Zvi Dubin '08 collected the names of interested players and a one-dollar fee to pool for prize money. Then he distributed yellow cone-shaped hats that, when worn, would provide immunity from potential killers.

"In order to be safe, you have to look stupid-that was the whole idea," Dubin said. "People were supposed to go up to you and say, is it your birthday today?"

Dubin drew up a circular diagram with each players name, ensuring that everyone had a different killer. He said the hardest job as coordinator was keeping people from evading the rules.

He made the laws of the game extremely specific, eventually even instilling a rule that immunity devices lost power from 10:30 to 11:30 every night, excluding safe zones. During this time, players were vulnerable and could either spend their time hiding in designated safe zones or hunt?ng their targets.

"You can hunt or be hunted," Braunstein said of the rule. "It puts you in like a little paranoia."

In the Rosenthal game, this paranoia forced some players to take extreme action. In instances when immunity was not available, Deutsch said he wore disguises and took longer routes to his classes to avoid killers who had memorized his schedule.

"I was really pathetic I realize," Deutsch said. "But I was so driven."

Braunstein encountered some awkward situations playing the game, such as when he was assigned to kill his former roommate and current neighbor in the Village. Although it was strange to kill those closest to him, at least these targets were easy to find.

In other situations, however, it took far longer than expected to find his target in a vulnerable state.

"There was one girl I was trying to get for over a week," Braunstein said. "I was kind of stalking her, I couldn't get her."

One night, he waited with a cup of water while she was in the Beit Midrash. As he saw her leaving-special immunity hat in hand-he tossed the water into her face.

"She was upset, I scared her," Braunstein said. "She screamed, but I screamed even louder than she did.

Finally, Braunstein suspected that only he and another contestant remained. But he still faced one crucial catch in the game-one never knows the number of people left.

Knowing he was close, Braunstein set out to catch his final victim, Gabi LePaquin '09. He hid in a stairwell adjacent to LePaquin's room in Reitman Hall. When she opened the door and poked out her head to scan the other direction, he shot her with a water gun.

After confirming that he was the last contestant, Braunstein won the prize money, which amounted to fifty dollars.

Sebrow predicts that people will become bored with Assassin within a couple of years.

"They'd be foolish to do it next year because that would be overkill," he said.

But for now, the game is spreading across campus. Games have already been played in Rosenthal and East Quads, and the Castle Quad is planning on starting a game soon.

For some students, however, Assassin is not all fun and games.

"For some personalities Assassin is fine," said Jhonathan Pasaoa '08, a member of the East Quad game. "But when you're paranoid to begin with, it's tedious and annoying. I didn't suffer that much academically but there was some stress."

Braunstein said that while the game was fun, he would probably never play again.

"I played to win and I won," he said. "That's it.