Camp Site

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The legend was sketchy at best and full of unproven truths. The details were horrific enough to keep young people at home in their beds after dark. Dusk was the town’s witching hour. Most of the township hadn’t seen the streetlights in decades. They tucked themselves into the darkness like a cocoon without question until one night, when a small group of unwitting teenagers from Ridgemont High School gathered at midnight to debunk the most notorious, the most evil story ever told. Four sects were represented. The Gossip. The Jackal. The Storyteller. The Witness. No one could remember the origin of the story or who told it first, but every man, woman and child knew it by heart. The story has never changed, and its mystery has never been solved.

“I found candles.” The school’s head cheerleader, Candace, moved her hairline whenever her ponytail was pulled extra tight. Every strand was perfectly placed except for a long curl strategically hanging from the side. She flirtatiously swiped it away whenever she was feeling particularly glamorous. She was confident on the gym floor, talkative and dramatic according to her closest friends. Dedicated to her position, she wore her performance top and letterman jacket and a mini skirt mimicking the uniform everywhere she went, no matter the weather. She carried what wax remained from the cabin and lit them, setting one on each end of two logs that provided seating near the fire pit. A mound of ashes from previous nighttime masses spread themselves out like an offering before them, beckoning them, daring them to seek its truth no matter the consequences. It swirled around a circular geometrical design like a maze, and it seemed to pull their eyes into its very core at the center.

One by one, the four of them gathered around the logs and settled into a comfortable position. Their goal was to surpass the taboo of retelling the story and compare notes they’d all gathered over the years. Ever aware they might be under the surveillance of an evil presence, they just wanted to knit the pieces back together out loud and complete the puzzle that was menacing their small county. They fully expected to simultaneously debunk their local myth and restore peace once and for all. They expected to be ushered in as heroes. Part of them silently admitted the possibility that they could be brought home in pieces, or not at all. As they passed around a flask, the silence still loomed in the air with the dewy fog of the evening mist. The only sound was the crackling of embers that spit passed their heads. The wood was still green.

The school’s quarterback, Abe, had a puerile teenage boy sense of humor as an attempt to detract from the languid spirals he threw on the field. He led his team to a failing season both years he started. In a small town, there was little hope of returning to any former glory for the team (or its residents). His father was a known abuser. Abe had no humility, recounting events from his childhood where he was taught how to be tough. The cruelest of them was a small box he’d often be locked inside and taped up from mouth to heel. He called it his dad’s version of hide and seek.

His best friend was also their running back, Chad, who was Abe’s straight man in their two-man comedy act. They were usually attached at the hip. Wherever one went, the other was close by. They played off each other on and off the field, terrorizing victims in the wake of their social and psychological destruction. Other boys revered them. The silly girls could not get enough, of course. Anyone else (with any ounce of self-esteem) just avoided them. Abe and Chad dropped the dead branches and sticks they had gathered from the ground cover close by. They built a pyramid at its center and Chad lit the belly underneath with his lighter. The ceremony was afoot.

They were reverent and respectful at first, speaking in hushed tones. They didn’t want to disrupt or anger any spirits lingering about the ominous trees that surrounding them. Their branches hung over their heads, demanding to know why they were in this sacred place where they clearly did not belong. The kids felt the sense of foreboding. It only heightened their awareness, their assessment of risk versus thrill. They thought they were bulletproof, as do all teenagers. Without an over developed sense of propriety or ability to maturely balance these measures, they proceeded with abandon, their hearts beating faster in anticipation. They accepted their willingness to stoke the fire of a malevolent unknown. Throwing caution to the wind, into the darkness they proceeded.

“Before we can start,” said Brandy, “We have to make an offering.”

“Offering? What kind of offering?” asked Candace pensively.

“A game...truth or dare. It has to be an honest and humiliating truth, or it won’t be accepted and we’ll all die here tonight just like they did. I’m starting,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Okay. Do you guys remember Claire Bennett in 7th grade?

“Yeah, man. She got the school’s first blue swirly.”

“That was epic,” repeated Chad as they fist bumped.

“That was you?” asked Candace.

“That was me.”

“How is that humiliating?” asked Abe.

“It was humiliating for her. I can’t say she completely deserved it. I can say I have absolutely no regrets. Okay. Easy enough. Who’s next?” She looked directly at Candace.

“Fine.” She got up in Brandy’s face. “You owe me if this gets out. I know what you’re all thinking anyway. I practice bulimia. Okay? I said it out loud for everyone to hear. Moving on.”

“I’m not even sure that counts. Everybody knows your finger prays to the porcelain god,” Quipped Chad.

“Admitting it is the first step.” Brandy pointed back at him. “You’re turn.”

Chad looked down with a smile. “Whatever.” He looked down in deep thought. “Okay. You have to promise you won’t tell anyone outside this circle.”

They all smiled. “We pinky promise, Chad man,” said Brandy.

“Pinky swear...” mocked Abe, pinky high above his head.

“You know I don’t get embarrassed anyway. No big deal.”

“He wet his bed until he was 12,” Abe blurted out.

“A-hole! That is NOT what I was going to say, dude! Not cool!”

“It’s true...” Abe sang.

“Whatever.”

Brandy laughed. “Dude.”

“You all still swore...” Chad protested.

“Of course. Of course. Okay. That leaves one,” Brandy said, standing behind Abe.

“Nah, man. I got nothing to hide. You all have heard every humiliating story I have.”

Brandy was annoyed. “It only works if everyone makes an offering.”

Candace quickly agreed. “We all did it. What makes you so special? I mean, just because you’re the quarterback with a daddy who beat you...I’m not playing until you give up something at least as bad as mine. And mine wasn’t that bad anyways.”

He laughed. “Tell the damn story, man.” After a pause, “I’ll keep your damn secrets, man. Let’s just get to it so I can appreciate my buzz.”

Brandy sneered. “So lame,” she muttered under her breath.

“And you believe any of these stories?” Abe asked.

“Why else would we be here?” demanded Candace. “Some part of it is true or the entire town wouldn’t be as messed up about it as they are.”

By that time, the fire was blazing. As the smoke lifted, the chapters of the fateful October night in 1987 began to unfold like an old map. Brandy switched gears. “The locals used to party up here every weekend. This was the well-known ritual everyone participated in for years until...that night. We all know the story. We all know the names of the four boys who came up here that night, right?”

The story had been told so many times, it seemed to take on a life of its own a time went on. As if chanting, they simultaneously stated the names one by one. “Butch, Bailor, Kevin, Jack.”

Candace explained her direct link to the event. “My uncle Jack was here that night. He snuck out and was supposed to meet up with four other boys, just like they’d done a million times before. But, he never came home. Neither did the others. The only thing they found was his bloody hat and an extinguished pit full of half-burned wood.” They all looked into the fire.

Brandy was remembering. “Another boy (their fifth) stayed home that night. After what happened, he was interviewed by the cops. He told them what he knew but there wasn’t much to say. They found this place after hearing stories about it. Dozens of times...one brought beer, another brought weed. They hung out. They partied. They went home. That was it.

Chad added. “That was Jason Berkley who stayed home because he broke his arm the day before.

“That was one lucky break,” Abe added.

Chad agreed. “Probably saved his life.”

“I heard he was in and out of rehab after that,” said Brandy. She was familiar with the history. Her entire family had been trouble for the law. Sheriff Brown was on a first name basis with each of them. He’d been the only resident in the county with a vested interest in the site. He’d grown up with all their parents and he was on duty the night it all happened. He took it out on all of the residents, becoming aggressive with any wrongdoing, writing tickets, showing up at all the good parties, shining his lights in windows. He locked up many fine, young people, just hoping an inc-ling of truth about that night might come to light. He always held hope one of the boys might turn up again, somewhere, like they just left town and didn’t tell anyone. But...no one ever did. They were gone. One might be explained but not all four. They were good and gone. I don’t think he’s ever given up though. He’s older and drunker, but no one else could do the job after what he went through. What we all went through. I don’t know one family who wasn’t devastated by the news. Brown interviewed one man, crazy Earl, who swore on his kids’ lives that he saw something up here a year later when he was camping with his dog.”

“The tree monster…” snorted Abe.

“I heard this one,” said Chad.

“He said he was fishing after dark right down there and got a lot bigger bite than he bargained for,” added Abe, still attempting levity that would fall on deaf ears.

Chad continued. “After hauling a bucket full of trout off the crick, he said they were attacked by a giant tree.”

Abe smirked. “Right. A tree...”

His friend continued with the same intensity. In fact, he became more dramatic the deeper into the story he inserted himself. “He flew through thickening brush, twigs and thorns that got so intense, he was all bloody and cut to shreds. Some of his skin was ripped off, some of it hanging along the path like ribbons. So, there was this trail of skin and blood all the way from the peak to Bryer’s Cliff where they got cornered. That dog, he was a pittie, all muscle and jaw.”

“I’ve seen them lock onto a truck bumper.” Brandy’s family had raised generations of pits.

“That dog not barking wasn’t making old Earl feel any better. His dog wasn’t exactly charging. He was dead silent, stiff as a board. That’s when he said he heard a loud crack. All these limbs started snapping, leaves were swatting all around him. He couldn’t even tell where it was coming from. He just heard it. Then the ground shook with this giant vibration, he said, that shot right up his whole body. They both stood there in the dark seeing nothing; trapped at the edge of the world, looking 100 foot down to nothing but rocks. Finally, that dumb dog of his started to growl. Then he started barking at the air. It was completely dark with this blackness in the new moon. Blu was barking so loud, Earl thought he was having a seizure. It was those unearthly sounds and crazy barking that he thought the entire forest was coming for them.” He knew someone who’d read the coroner’s report.

“They said he was crouched down when he was attacked. His wrist, ribs and right side of his skull were shattered into a million pieces. He had his hand up and his head down, like this.” He crouched down into a ball on the ground and slowly lifted his hand into the air.

“So creepy...” whispered the Candace.

“Did he ever give a description?” asked Brandy.

“He didn’t really see much. It happened so fast. It came through the thicket like a wrecking ball, breaking down all the smaller brush and small trees in its path. As it grew closer, it had to be louder than fireworks. But the only thing he saw where these massive branches bent down like arms and moving roots like spider legs reaching through the woods toward them. He said the last thing he saw right before he tripped backwards was, in no uncertain terms, these massive protruding black eyes staring at him through a giant, weeping knot on its trunk. He flew off that cliff like a dead bird, swirling to the ground then knocking himself into a coma on the rocks below. They found him half delirious and mostly dead. The worst part was what happened to his dog, Blu. They found him downstream a week later. I don’t know where they buried him or if they even told old Earl. Cuz when they opened the lid of Earl’s cooler, old Blu was laying there, mutilated. His eyes were bugged out, his tongue was ripped off and his body was separated into three sections that were squeezed off at the ends like a sausage.”

“Dog sausage...” Abe was skeptical and much less confident.

Close behind them, they heard a faint snap. Candace was visibly startled. She started jerking and her eyes darted around at every sound.

“Relax, girlie,” Abe mocked slightly.

“I don’t like this. I don’t want to be here anymore.” She stood up. Seeing how they all looked at her, she felt they were silently judging her, thinking she was completely overreacting. She sat back down hesitantly. In truth, they were all just as petrified as she was.

After a moment, Brandy returned to the story more curious than ever. “No one else ever saw the weird thing he was describing, and Brown didn’t find anything.’’

“Of course not. That dude was messed up” reported Abe.

Brandy continued. “He was never that right upstairs to begin with, but he was definitely out to lunch after that. I think he lived like ten years in a mental institution before he died of a heart attack.”

“I heard he stopped speaking, too,” said Candace.

Abe took a drink. “That whole story is ridiculous, yo.”

“Did you feel that?” declared Candace nervously.

“You are straight tripping,” said Abe, taking another (longer) drink.

“I felt the ground. I swear,” she said more nervous than before. “I want to go now,” she said sitting straight upright. She was wound tighter than a spring, coiled and ready to fling herself into the air.

“I didn’t feel anything,” said Abe. “You’re a little drunk,” he said, handing the flask to her. She didn’t move.

“I swear to God,” she repeated.

Suddenly, the ground thundered with a low base that rippled up through their spines. “I felt that,” said Brandy. The boys watched Candace and Brandy slowly lean to their right. They were clearly messing with them.

“What the...,” said Chad.

“Brandy?” her friend asked nervously.

“What’s happening?” Brandy whispered.

As Candace fell over the log softly backwards, her legs flipped up into the air. Brandy put her hand down hard to steady herself. Suddenly, she slid all the way down the entire length of the log and flopped onto the ground right next to the fire. As Candace stood up and stepped back, a long, spear-like point withdrew from the ground with a crack. The log on which they’d been sitting suddenly burst upward, lifting itself into the air beyond their sight. All their heads looked up simultaneously as it disappeared into the black sky above. Dust and dirt fell back and showered them under a layer of debris.

“Oh, my God!” yelled Chad.

“What the hell?” whispered Abe.

Both boys leapt to their feet and jumped back as the log began to shutter violently. They all stared in silent disbelief, watching more moving logs unearth themselves. As they staggered, struggling to stay on their feet, several roots jet forth from the ground underneath them, wrapping around their ankles like anacondas. They quickly compressed their way up as they got tighter and tighter. The smaller, pointier roots pierced their calves and thighs as their screams bellowed without an echo toward the open sky. They struck, punched and pulled at them in agony and fright, but they would not be freed.

They all watched in horror as dirt and bark began to break off into pieces. A cloud of dust flew into their eyes, making it difficult to see. The fire smoked, adding to the chaos. The girls screamed and yelled out for each other. At this point, they could no longer see each other. The space around them was whirling and swooshing so loudly that it drowned out everything else.

With a tremendous thud, Candace let out a loud, unnatural gasp. She looked down to discover she had been speared through the chest by the point that shot down from the sky. She looked up at them in shock as a bead of blood trickled down her chin. She grabbed the branch as if she might pull it out. Her shock turned to panic. She reached for her friend, neither of them knew what was happening. Neither immediately came to the realization that she had been pierced through the heart. They were being attacked.

“Candace!” Brandy screamed.

As Candace’s body swung around above them, she was spun into circular motions that contorted her body into freakish positions. With one final blow, her lifeless body was thrust into the ground. As the wooden leg slowly lifted, half of her skin and organs peeled back from the ground. Her intact vertebrae still dripping, it was hooked from its limb like skewered bait.

“Wait! Wait!” Abe gasped in panic. “No. No. No. I didn’t tell my truth. No! Please. I have one! I have a humiliating story! Wait! Listen, listen...the stories. All the stories I told about my dad...they’re all bullshit. My dad was cool” He starts crying. “He’s just a sweet old man. I made it all up.”

Brandy screamed breathlessly, “It’s too late! You’re too late!” Her scorn emanated through her tone.

“Why would you make up something like that?” asked Chad in astonishment.

“It made me look tougher,” he sobbed.

“No, man. It just made him look like a shit heel.”

“Yeah.” Abe agreed. “I guess I’m the shit heel.” They both laughed and looked at each other from the ground, acknowledging the feeling of defeat they knew so well. The roots covered their torsos and were working their way up their arms. They panted and choking as they slowly lost the ability to breathe.

The second log began to stir, moving straight up behind the boys. It upended itself from a much deeper burial hole where the boys had been sitting seconds before. It appeared to have rested unmoved for many years as it shook vigorously. It pulled itself completely from the shallow grave below, revealing what looked like barbs and another sharpened tip at the end. The entire woody limb began slamming itself violently against the ground as if it was swatting at a stinging wasp. More likely, it was waking itself from a giant’s hibernation.

Abe’s body was beaten into pulpy pool of blood, leaving skin and guts dripping from the bark until it was no longer recognizable. Chad stabbed and punched at it until his hands were bloody and broken. He screamed out in frustration and pain. Abe’s gurgling noises and twitching caused Brandy to panic in total hysteria. She sank down in fear, crying and pushing away anything that flew passed her. Eventually, she curled up into a ball and covered her face.

As Chad reached for her and started to speak, he was immediately flattened into the ground like a pancake as his blood washed over Brandy like a tidal wave. She was frozen in terror as the entire pit (fire and all) spilled over onto her friends, lighting everyone she knew on fire. They lay burning without a movement. She knew they were all dead. After a long pause, she managed enough courage to open her blood-soaked eyes and lay motionless as she witnessed the unearthing of the beast.

The mound rose up with the shrieks of a banshee, revealing a giant wooden head and protruding black eyes that peered angrily back at her. In one swift movement, the beast swallowed Brandy whole from top to bottom. She had managed only a muffled scream that was abruptly stifled once again. As it closed its ugly mouth, blood spilled down a weeping path and it slowly retreated back into the ground. What was left of their bodies slowly disappeared beneath the surface as all the legs and roots began to quietly bury themselves back into the ground where they could lie dormant once again. As the dust settled, an eerie silence befell the camp site. The only witness to the horrific event that remained was the tiny flame still burning in the window.