The Last Summer Camp - Part 2

No, please big mark up. For penny.

This is Part Two of The Last Summer Camp. If you've not listened to Part One already, please do so before listening to this episode. Welcome friend. Follow me. We're going where nightmares are born. Most people would never dare enter these woods. There's no telling what horrors we'll find, the disturbing terrors we'll uncover. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Unsettling creatures lurk here. Be careful, they might follow you out. Or maybe they're already inside you, in the spaces between your thoughts or under your spirits. Are you afraid? Good. Now you are ready to enter the warning woods. Pastor Clive Colson and Tyree Lee stood at the foot of the wave of trees surrounding their camp. At one in the morning, the moonlight barely defined the trees as individual objects.

Colson remarked at how truly they did resemble a wave. A wave of darkness, ready to crash down. Karen and Kent stayed in the dormitory cabins, ensuring no one snuck away and learned of the present situation. Five campers missing, leaving only one piece of evidence behind: a necklace hanging from a tree branch. They assumed it belonged to one of the missing kids, seeing as no one had noticed it the previous day.

Only Tyree could reach it. When he touched it, he said something stung him, and he left it hanging there. They set a fire in the fire pit and stoked it until it lit the edges of the trees, finally giving them some definition. Colson asked Tyree to keep his eyes and ears open, especially whenever Colson's phone rang and somebody from one of the local emergency departments needed to talk to him.

None of the county deputies had been anywhere near the outpost when Colson originally called about the missing kids. They'd been gone for less than two hours, and, Colson begrudgingly acknowledged, they were young teens, a mixture of boys and girls. He could tell the sheriff, who'd been woken up and briefed before calling Colson, wasn't too concerned for their safety. I feel guilty asking, Tyree said, breaking a long silence after Colson's call with the sheriff.

It's okay, I know what you're gonna ask, said Colson. I'm not sure, Tyree. I'm not sure if I believe what's supposedly out there. I don't believe demons are present in today's world the way they existed back when they wrote the Bible, yet I would absolutely love to be anywhere else right now. It's called cognitive dissonance. I don't believe in the demon, yet for some reason I'm still worried it's out there.

Tyree heard Colson take a long breath and used the pause to interject. Actually, I was gonna ask why you think the kids aren't responding to us if they're okay. Why would that make you feel guilty? asked Colson. It's pretty simple. They don't want to get caught. Tyree gave a short burst of forced laughter. I guess I just didn't want to taint the hope, you know? I don't know, Clive. I think they know they're caught by now.

I mean we've been yelling their names for almost half an hour. I'm getting worried they can't find their way back. Colson nodded with one eyebrow slightly cocked. Well, the authorities are on their way now. I'm not sure what else we can do besides pray. My throat needs a break from the yelling if I'm being honest. Tyree sniffled. I do actually have an idea, he said. What's that? I got my guitar back up at the cabins. How about some noise to go at the fire?

Got anything electric? asked Colson. Just acoustic, unfortunately. Electric requires electricity. Colson chuckled and shook his head. Sorry, of course. Go get your guitar. If nothing else, it'll kill this awful silence.

Ten four. Tyree jogged toward the hill, leaving Colson alone by the woods. He could never tell whether the howling he heard contained a voice or if he simply imagined one. He couldn't make out any words, just a low moaning. He looked up at the pendulum, which he still thought was a necklace, glinting in the moonlight as it dangled from its branch. Who could have put you up there? He asked it. I'm guessing Angelina Ball. She's the only one in that group I bet could reach a branch that high.

Glancing over his shoulder, he attempted to reach the branch himself, but came up three or four inches short. He began to pray out of habit. He started in his head, but soon felt an urge to push back against the oppressive atmosphere, and continued his prayer aloud. And be with them, Lord. Keep them safe from anything that might want to harm them. Please protect them from injuring themselves or each other. He glanced up at the pendulum. Just covering all my bases.

I suppose you know what's best, but if I can be so bold as to ask for an outcome where everybody's oh Okay He trailed off because the pendulum had begun to trace circles under the branch. It started small but quickly expanded outward. It didn't move naturally. In fact, when he squinted, he noticed it was swinging against what gentle breeze existed. I I, he stammered, I pray for protection for myself, for everyone else here, and for the cops and whoever else comes to help.

The pendulum abruptly stopped. Its pyramid shaped charm fell dead, pulling the chain straight. Then, as if gaining mass, the pendulum began pulling its branch down. No other branches on the tree moved at all, not even its leaves. That one singular branch bent on its own, lowering the pendulum until it was level with Colson's eyes. It looked like the tree was offering it to him. Who's doing that? Colson whispered. Is it you, God?

The pendulum began to spin again. Colson gasped and stepped back. The pendulum picked up speed until it became a blur, a blade. Colson heard the trees whisper. Who's that? he demanded. Just me, Pastor, said Tyree, coming up behind him with his guitar strapped on. Oh, you're how'd you get back here so fast? I ran, Tyree replied. That fast? Colson whispered. He looked back at the pendulum which now hung limp below the branch at its normal height.

Look, I don't know what to say, said Tyree. Should I play? Colson said. Yes, please, I'll uh sing along if you want. Just lose yourself in the music, Tyree replied, grinning brilliantly in the moonlight. I know you're older, no offense. You know this one? He picked the instantly recognizable first notes of Dust in the Wind by Kansas. Colson laughed. How old do you think I am exactly?

Without missing a note, Tyree shrugged and aimed his headstock at the pastor as if to prod him. Okay, okay, Colson chortled. With an unpracticed, yet natural tone, Colson began to sing. The crackling fire, the scent of burning pine, and most of all, those haunting chords from his childhood all worked to turn the chilly, subtle breeze into a gentle warmth.

He closed his eyes as they finished the first chorus and entered verse two. By the time the chorus came around again, his arms stuck straight out, palms up, and he began to turn and place. He practically whispered the repeating lines about being nothing more than dust in the wind, yet voiced them with as much power and conviction as when he preached from the pulpit. It struck him how unbiblical the lyrics were, yet they resonated as powerfully in him as any Bible verse.

Pastor Colson? Tyree asked, interrupting him mid spin. Colson realized he wasn't playing guitar anymore. He lowered his arms and opened his eyes, turning to face the young counselor. Tyree stood a few yards away looking concerned. He set the guitar case he was holding down a few feet from the fire. Sorry, just got lost in the music, Colson replied, eyeing the guitar case.

What music? asked Tyree. I heard you singing that old Boston song. You got an iPod or something? He knelt down and opened the case. Kansas, said Colson. When Tyree's concern morphed into plain confusion, Colson said, That's the band. Kansas, not Boston. Never heard of'em,' said Tyree, pulling out his guitar and strapping it on. It's here with us. Coulson whispered. What is? asked Tyree. He looped one thumb into his guitar's sound hole and gripped the neck with his other hand. The demon, son.

Or something unholy anyway. It's trying to trick us. Trying to the voice in the trees or in his head asked. He ignored it. Play something something about God's strength and protection. Got anything like that off the top of your head? Strong tower? I think I know it, said Colson. Let's sing. Partway through the chorus, a gust of wind blew back Colson's hair. He heard a jingling rush by his ear before a wooden plunk and a shout of surprise from Tyree.

Tyree had his hands up by his ears when Colson turned around. A horrible screeching eked from his guitar. Stepping forward, Colson saw why. The pendulum had torn itself from its branch and flown at Tyree's guitar. Its chain got tangled in the strings. Coulson shuddered in revulsion at the sound it made sliding down the strings. He clenched his jaw, stepped toward Tyree, and tore the pendulum away from the guitar. He tightened his fist around it and spun back toward the woods.

He shouted, Bring me back my kids, then chucked the pendulum into the trees where it landed somewhere without a sound.

Angelina weaved through trees and stepped over roots. She wondered why they hadn't heard anyone calling their names by now. If Tyree had gone back and checked, he would have noticed at least Emery and Philip missing. Surely he'd have the others helping him to look for them. Now that she was alone, the windless howling seemed so much louder. Without her friends' voices filling the faux silence, the creepy ambience oppressed all of her senses.

She counted the aroma of mildew and wet fur as a smell and a taste. She checked over her shoulder to make sure Emery's phone's light remained in view. She could see reflections of it on trees far behind her but couldn't make out JJ through the trees. She could no longer hear Philip singing. For that she felt grateful.

Although she hadn't wanted to admit it, nor had anyone else, they all knew the singing wasn't really coming from Philip. Maybe, maybe his voice produced the melody. But if so, Angelina questioned whether it was by his own will. She paused to test how far she could see. Trees stretched before her until her own shadows consumed them. Whichever direction Camp lay in, it wasn't hers. Ensuring the light behind her remained visible, she altered her course to cover more ground.

She wanted to shout for help, but didn't want the other lost kids thinking she was in danger. She decided once they got back together, they should resort to screaming next. Maybe you would help Philip find them too. Angelina? A voice called to her right. It sounded like Philip? Emery? A young male for sure. Who's that? she asked. Angelina, it's me. Now the voice sounded like Bette. Angelina did not respond. She held her breath.

Not only did she feel certain the voice had changed, Bette never called her by her full name. She was the only person who ever and always called her Lena instead. She looked over her shoulder. She'd almost walked far enough from J. J. to let the light disappear. Slowly, she retraced her last steps. A shadow moved in her peripheral vision, distant, but too close to be one of her friends. Her instincts pressured her to respond, to call out.

She denied this to them, remaining silent and continuing back toward the light. Angelina, is that you? asked a new voice. This one sounded like the counselor Kent Mann, and Angelina turned toward it, seeing the broken outline of a tall male figure standing between two trees a bus length away. She couldn't make out any of his features, but supposed his build could have belonged to Kent. Who are you? she asked, since he could clearly see her already. It's Kent, he replied, bolding the tee.

I'm here to help you and your friends get out. Amen. He emphasized both T's again. Amen. My friends? she asked, faltering as she tested his knowledge. He said Bet, Emory, Philip, June. June? thought Angelina. Oh, that must be J. J.'s real name. Amen. If you take me to them, I can lead you all out. Amen. Is anyone else looking for us? Angelina asked. We sought we saw someone else before before we came in here. Kent paused for a few seconds, seeming frozen.

Run run away from him now cried the voice in Angelina's head. Amen. Kent said. Yes, Tyree and Karen are out here too. We were worried about you all. Angelina opened her mouth, then closed it. She scolded herself for being so paranoid and honestly selfish. Here was this poor guy barely out of high school and probably just as scared as her trying to help her, and she was treating him like he might be a demon? She shook her head. We're trying to find the way out. The way out? Kent asked.

She thought she could see the glimmer of a smile spread across his face, there, then gone within a second. It's that way. He pointed almost directly at the light. Ugh, I've been walking in deeper this whole time. Angelina shuddered. How lucky she'd been that a counselor found her before something worse. If I've been walking deeper in, how did Kent get ahead of me? The question bubbled up, fizzing behind her lips, but She needed to know but felt too scared to ask.

Kent leaned in, his smile flashing once more. No words formed when Angelina first opened her mouth, but with a push from her knotted stomach she said We're meeting back at that light. It's Emery's phone. Well, she hoped Emery would forgive her for exposing his contraband. A clever plan, said Kent. A good way to make sure no one gets lost. Yeah, thanks. It was Emery's idea, she replied. Well, lead the way. Kent followed her.

Angelina tried to ignore his footsteps behind her, getting closer. After a few yards, she turned her head until she could see him in her peripheral vision. Amen. She barely needed to turn her head. Walking less than two paces behind her, Kent loomed over her. Kent, she knew, was about the same height as her. However, this person, this figure, this thing behind her seemed far taller than that. She turned to see it clearer. Her pursuer slowed, allowing her time and space to take it in.

She'd been right. The thing that looked like Kent loomed roughly two feet taller than him. It made up most of the extra height with its torso. Its arms were lengthened above its elbows, but its forearms looked proportionate to a human's. She tilted her head to look into its eyes and saw it had otherwise given up impersonating a human. Where Kent's eyes had been, two perfectly round, silvery orbs glared down at her.

The creature opened its mouth, flashing teeth dripping strings of saliva. It said, Take me to your friends, little girl. No, leave me alone she yelled. An elongated hand swung through the dark. Angelina clocked it out of the corner of her eye and instinctively jumped back. Her shoe wedged itself between two entangled roots, but the rest of her kept twisting away from the demon.

She felt a strain in her ankle. The skin around it burned. A flash of tears stinging her eyes, she looked up, expecting to see the demon crashing down on her, ready to devour her. A scream built in her chest. But standing exactly where the demon had been, a leafless tree with long downturned branches stood in its place. She felt certain the tree had not been there before. The craggy twigs at the ends of its branches looked like fingers reaching down for her, petrified in the act.

She dislodged her foot and tried to stand. Her ankle bore her weight, but not without protest. She hopped a few trees further away from the new tree. When she looked back, it remained barely visible in the shadows.

Emery could see almost nothing. His toes provided reconnaissance for each step he took. Thank you. Every second, he hoped to hear one of the others calling out that they'd found the exit, but when he listened, he couldn't hear anyone. He didn't know which he hoped for more, finding the way out or finding Philip.

The thought of bumping into Philip scared him, though. He'd quit believing Philip was pranking them and started speculating about why else his friend would have ventured deeper into the tangled woods. He'd obviously wanted to impress Bet, but Emery found it hard to believe Philip would ever have resorted to singing eerily in the haunted woods to woo a girl.

Emery's knee bumped against something it could not find a way around. He paused, reaching down with his hands to examine the invisible shape in front of him. Cold fuzz tickled his palms. He decided it must be a mossy log blocking his path. Since he didn't want to deviate, although he'd more or less accepted he wasn't going to find the way out by then, he tried to climb over it. The fallen tree came up to his waist and

When he'd positioned his full weight on top of its hollow trunk, the bark beneath him collapsed. He cried out, but his head struck the edge of the hole before most of the sound escaped him. He landed belly first inside the log hard enough to knock his wind out. Gasping and groaning, he rolled over as far as he could, pushing his hands into wet rot as he pulled his knees up.

He tried to sit and scraped the back of his neck against the jagged bark he'd fallen through. Ah he winced, rubbing his new sore spot. At the far end of the log, something moved. Emery froze, imagining the creatures that might have made their home in this hollow tree. Raccoons, foxes, possums, snakes. The list could go on. Careful of his neck this time, he sat up again. Another sound from the end of the log froze him though. A voice.

Let it shine, Phillips sang just above a whisper, losing a couple of notes to pubescent cracking. Emery scrambled out of the hole. He fell on the far side of the log, then stood and called out, PK, that you? Something scritched against the length of the hollowed log. It cut a long path ending just beneath the hole Emery made. In the silence that followed, Emery began doubting his dim sight. He couldn't see anything, yet he sensed something there, something emerging from the hole.

He located the light of his phone so he'd know where to run if the invisible creature threatened him. Again, Philip's voice sang inside the tree. Hided under a bush, oh no. I'm gonna let it shine. Hide it under a bush, oh no. I'm gonna let it shine. Hide it under a bush, oh no. Let it shine, let it shine. The hole glowed bluish-white. Let it shine. an iPhone 3G rose into view. Emery recognized the photo of his dog in the background of the screen. JJ? Emery asked.

He no longer saw the light of his phone in the distance. Yeah. He'd thought the singing voice belonged to Philip, but in his memory it could have been J. J., he supposed. Beneath the phone rose the shadow of a hand holding it. JJ, that's not funny. Give me my phone. You're screwing up the hole. Thank you. Emory stopped short. Emery? JJ's voice called from two dozen trees away in the direction his phone had been glowing before.

Emery, your phone turned off. You guys will have to follow my voice back. Emery felt a chill beneath his clothes. A second hand extended from the log and pressed against the edge of the hole. A head and shoulders rose into the blue glow, and at first Emery felt the easement of relief. The face illuminated by his cell phone belonged to Philip. Holy crap, PK, how did you Philip's head and shoulders continued to rise. His shirtless torso emerged, pale to the point of translucence.

Black veins mapped his skin, and his bones protruded, threatening to break through his skin like a thin membrane. And he continued to rise. Philip was twice Emery's height before his legs appeared. As he rose, his hands remained planted on the trunk, pushing himself upward. His forearms stretched to keep up with him, their bones crackling like the logs in a fire. Emery, Bet, Angelina, where are you? JJ yelled.

She hadn't stopped yelling, Emery realized. All of his attention had been stolen by the abomination wearing his friend's face. It now stood at full height, its head brushing the leaves of high branches. Emery heard Angelina shout, Guys, hurry up and get back to JJ. She sounded terrified.

Emery's throat closed and his mouth went dry. The spindly creature stepped out of the hollow trunk toward him. He found his back against a tree, and The thing began to sing again, still using Philip's voice, but with another rumbling beneath it. Yeah. It raised the cell phone above its head. Let it shine. It tipped its head back. LET IT SHINE It opened its mouth and dropped the phone in. Emery watched its light land in the back of its throat, then slowly descend behind its rib cage.

The phone illuminated something in the monster's belly, which grew clearer the lower it slid. The silhouette of a head and shoulders. Amen. Reaching the bottom of the creature's esophagus, the phone suddenly dropped. When it landed at the base of its belly, the light illuminated Philip's desperate face and pleading hands with impossible definition. Amen. Then the light went out. Thank you.

Emery heard crackling bones as the creature in the dark stepped toward him. He screamed, hearing his friends' voices respond far away. The wind howled louder, masking them. Emery, bracing himself, told them to keep yelling. He set his forearms together in front of his face like a shield angled toward the calling voices and ran. The demon. Let him go. A twenty-four year old burning alive inside his own apartment. Police waited outside for thirty-eight minutes. Was this an accident? A suicide?

A specific section on both wrists unburned. Hours earlier, he would tell his parents that if his wife found out he was leaving, she would go ballistic. That's our episode She'd Go Ballistic, the Suspicious Death of David Elmquist. This is Crime Salad. I'm Ashley. I'm Ricky. Search for Crime Salad wherever you listen. Hi, we're Meg Bashwinner. And Joseph Finger. Of welcome to Nightvale, and on our new show, The Best Worst, we explore the golden age of television.

To do that, we're watching the IMDB viewer-rated best and worst episodes of classic TV shows. The episode of Star Trek, where Beverly Crusher has sex with a ghost. The episode of the X Files, where Scully gets attacked by a vicious house cat. Also the really good episodes too. What can we learn from the best and worst of great television? Like, for example, is it really a bad episode, or do people just hate women? The best worst available wherever you get your podcasts.

JJ's throat already felt raw from overuse. She'd been using its maximum capacity to make sure the others could hear her no matter how far they'd walked. Is there a way to turn this thing back on? she shouted in Emery's direction. Hit the home button! Emery shouted breathlessly. She was starting to be able to hear his clumsy footsteps. Angelina yelled. It's at the bottom of the screen

JJ had tried shaking and tapping Emery's iPhone to wake it back up. He'd told her it wasn't supposed to turn off, but one of her fingers pressed some small button on the side and it did. It wasn't her fault. he didn't tell her about that button. Now they were screaming at her about another button? It didn't help Emory put his phone in rubber armor with bumps that all felt like buttons. It'd probably be easy to find if I could see freaking anything.

JJ, Emery screamed, keep talking there's something out here. What is it? she shouted back. I don't know, just keep talking so we can find you Emery bellowed. She started praying aloud. Dear Lord, please be with us in these woods. Please keep me and Angelina and Bet and Emery safe, and help us bring Philip. Were those footsteps? Who's that? she asked, unable to pinpoint their origin. I saw it too shouted Angelina. Her voice sounded too far away for the footsteps to be hers. Emery? Bet?

Is that you? J J quivered, stepping backward. The footsteps accelerated. They gritted dirt and root bark beneath them. The back of J J's head struck a low branch, and as she stumbled cold hands wrapped around her own. They slid along her fingers and snatched the phone. JJ squinted against a sudden flash of light, seeing only the blurred outline of a black figure with a pale face before squeezing her eyes shut and turning her head, squealing like a tea kettle.

Bottom of the screen, noob, Bette sneered. When JJ cracked her eyes open, she saw her pseudo friend holding up Emery's glowing phone and pointing to a circle button below the active part of the screen. Finally shouted Emery, not far from their position. Angelina emerged seconds before him. Oh good. We hadn't heard you in a while, she told Bette. We need to get out of here now. You good? Emory asked, panting. You look like you've got a fever or something. Yeah.

I'm fine. Just freaked out, said Bet. I think I know what we need to do, though. I'm worried you guys won't want to hear Just say it, Angelina snapped. Something chased me back here. Me too, said Emory. Bet blurted. We just have to wait. After a pause, J J said, Na uh. I am not staying out just until morning, said Bet. No, said Emory. Bet, seriously, there is something huge out here. We can't wait. Yes, we can, Bet replied. I think. Why? asked Angelina.

Because of the stories, Bette explained. She turned to Angelina. Remember? The Boy Scouts walked out the next morning. I bet that Ryan kid would have too if he hadn't They walked out void of their friggin' souls, Emery argued. J. J. asked, What about Philip? Bette said. I'm hoping he'll walk out too. So we just give up on finding him? asked J. J. Angelina said. We have no idea what happened to those kids before the morning, though. What I just saw out there? We can't just wait around.

Bette insisted. All I'm saying is we shouldn't look for Philip, okay? Let's just huddle here until morning. My phone's not gonna last that long, said Emery. J J said. I'm not just gonna let you guys give up on Philip. Everybody shut up Bet cried. This little uh I'm gonna let it shine. The haunting note swelled from the woods behind her, carried by a small, weak voice that sounded very near. Philip, JJ screamed.

Before anyone could stop her, she plunged into the woods, Bet pleaded with the others to let her go, but they rushed past her. Guys, don't leave me here alone. Then stick with us, Angelina shouted back, already vanishing into the dark. Thank you. Bet remained in place. She screamed, You don't want to find him. But maybe they needed to, she realized. Maybe before they could accept their fate, they needed to see him too. They needed to see. what she saw.

The sheriff arrived around two in the morning with two deputies and bad news. He told Colson a search of the woods wouldn't be possible until daylight. He said if they went in under darkness, even with flashlights and safety gear, they could risk losing more people. Their radios and cellphones didn't work well in those woods, he said. They barely work at all out here, he told Colson. Do you think I should call their parents at this point? asked Colson.

One of the deputies choked on a sip of coffee, spilling some from her thermos on her chin. The sheriff eyed her, seeming to agree with the sentiment her sputtering suggested. You haven't called them already? he asked. Well, no, said Colson. Honestly, I've been more focused on helping the kids find their way out with the fire and music, and I've had the other counsellors keeping peace up at the cabins, so go call those parents, said the sheriff.

The fire and music were good ideas, but if they haven't found their way out yet, they're probably too far in to see or hear us. We're gonna have to go after them, and for that we've gotta wait until dawn. But the parents should know what's going on. So what do we do now? asked Tyree. The sheriff gestured to his deputies. We'll cruise around the roads in this area, see if any of the kids pop out along those somewhere.

We've all got spotlights we can use to look through the trees too. We can search, we just can't go in the woods right now unless there's some sign of distress. You heard anybody scream or anything like that? No, there's been no sign of them at all, Colson said. It's been hours now. Doesn't that worry you? Worrying won't bring those kids back, said the sheriff. How about you try praying? JJ followed Phillips singing until it sounded like it was coming from right in front of her.

Angelina and Emery pursued her, but they couldn't get close enough to illuminate her. Philip, where are you? she whispered. Hi, J, he said, his voice small and broken. I'm down here. Where? she asked, straining to make out the twisted shapes on the ground. He sputtered, coughed, and said. I fell. Emery and Angelina caught up, and JJ ordered Emery to shine his phone at the ground. There lay Philip, his face compressed between a bulging root and his shoulder, his body a heap of clothing and flesh.

One of his feet hung like a question mark above his head. He told them, I can't feel anything. Am I dead? Emery stammered. Nob nobody. You're not you're not dead. Bet JJ screamed back into the trees. Get over here, you witch. This is all your fault. Do something. JJ, calm down, said Angelina. No, JJ snapped. She just left him here. That's why she didn't want us to go looking for him. She wanted to leave him for dead because she's friends with the demon. Can't you guys see that?

JJ, that's crazy. She would have told us if she found him, said Emery. Angelina was crouched by Philip now, telling him not to move. JJ's tirade continued. She tricked us into coming here so she could feed us to it. She wants to feed our souls to it. That's why she wants us to stay until morning, so we don't find the way out before she has a chance to kill us all. Guys, what if she did this? Peace.

That's my best friend, she wouldn't do that, said Angelina. She wouldn't do it to any of us. Not even you, J. What's that supposed to mean? JJ sneered. Emery said, You two shut up. We need to get help. He's gonna Gonna what? moaned Philip. How? Angelina asked earnestly. I dunno, Emery said, turning around. Bet, where are you? Hey, there you are, an adult voice said from up ahead. Everyone but Philip turned toward it.

Councillor Kent stepped forward, entering the light. His eyes reflected it, mirror like, the way a cat's eyes shine in the dark. JJ gasped and ran toward him. Oh, praise Jesus, Kent, you've got to help. That's not Kent, Angelina whispered, stepping in front of her. What do you mean? J. J. demanded, trying to shove past her. Hey, there you are, echoed a different voice. This one female. Counselor Karen entered the light near where Emery stood, her eyes reflecting it the same as Kent's.

We gotta go, whispered Emery. Tyree joined next, completing the triangle around the terrified teenagers. Hey, there you are Emory repeated. Guys, we gotta go now He angled himself to run between Tyree and Karen. Angelina and J. J. wrestled for two seconds before J. J. cut free and ran into Kent's outstretched arms. Emery grabbed Angelina's arm and tugged her toward escape as Karen and Tyree pivoted to face them. Philip? Angelina asked. Just go, shouted Emery.

Unprompted, he remembered the moment he scooted across the log by the fire to fill the space Philip created for Bette to sit. If he'd let her sit between them, would they have ended up in this situation? He wished he could take it back. It wasn't like Philip stood a chance with Bette anyway. Nor did he, really. After the week ended, they all would have returned to their hometowns. They would have become each other's fond memories until camp next year.

Instead, Philip lay in a helpless heap, and bet. Where's Bet? Emery panted. His phone swung in his hand as he sprinted, lighting every other footstep. Angelina didn't answer. They heard JJ scream, a needle of pain and terror that pierced the membrane. behind separating them from what they'd left behind. Angelina stopped, only to be impacted by an enormous, dark object. Emery heard her fall and lunged behind a tree before shining his phone at her.

JJ's limp form lay on top of Angelina, pressing her face into the dirt. Her legs flailed between JJ's limp twisted feet. Emery moved to help, but a hand caught his shirt and pulled him behind a different tree. Bette spun him around and held a finger to her lips. He struggled out of her grip, but froze when he heard footsteps approaching. Come on, you guys, let's get back to camp and get you tucked in. Tyree's voice called from the darkness.

Karen's voice said, You won't be in trouble if you come out now. Just come on out so we can all go back. Behind the tree, Bette and Emery listened to Angelina struggling to extricate herself from JJ. Bette leaned out and shushed her friend, hoping she'd go still and quiet until the impostors passed. She either didn't hear her or knowingly ignored her. Bette pulled back. She'd seen movement in the trees behind Angelina. Who's this? Karen asked.

Bette hugged Emery tight, burying her face in his chest. They heard Angelina pleading. No no No She produced a throat searing scream which ended abruptly with a dull snap. Bette shuddered in Emory's arms. Ideas, all terrible, flashed through his mind. Running seemed pointless, but staying would be idiotic. The futility of it all clogged his mind. It took the returning sound of footsteps to clear it. He took Bette's hand and yanked her away from the tree. But Kent stood in their path. Thank you.

He held wide his malformed hands with too many fingers, and grinned at them with a mouth lined with excessive teeth. They didn't know how he had crept up behind them. Powerful arms wrapped around them from behind and pulled them apart. Emery Bette screamed as Tyree hoisted her up so her feet couldn't touch the ground. Get off me Emery growled at the one who held him. Karen, he assumed.

She slammed him to the ground, striking his head against a protruding root. His phone fell flat on its face, shattering and going dark. Behind the ringing in his ears, Emery heard Bet's cries growing fainter, further away. Cold fingers twisted his shirt and pulled him to his feet. They kept pulling until he dangled above the ground. Somehow, He was too woozy to know exactly how Kent or Karen, maybe both, carried him into a tree.

He dangled like a toy being dragged by a monkey, bumping and scraping against branches the whole way up. Near the top of the tree, the hands let go. On his way down, he struck every branch again. An impact to his head knocked him unconscious before his body crumpled to the ground.

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The entire camp dissolved in a frenzy the next morning despite Kent, Karen, and Tyree's efforts to keep everyone calm. Pastor Colson told them to gather everyone in the chapel early to give law enforcement space to prepare a search. Local parents had already begun showing up to take their children home, adding to the chaos and confusion.

Pastor Colson left the chapel once it seemed the counselors had everyone mostly under control. He made his way down the shallow hill toward the edge of the woods, where the sheriff, a few deputies, and a handful of paramedics were examining a grid on a map. Halfway down the hill, the pastor heard a snap in the woods to his left, then another. He shouted to the sheriff and pointed to where the noises were coming from.

Over the next few seconds, the snapping sounds grew louder and more frequent until, to the pastor's enormous relief, Philip Kind emerged looking haggard but unharmed. Angelina Ball followed in similar condition. They walked out with wide, unfocused, unblinking eyes, and started straight ahead toward the chapel. Hey, hold up, you two, the pastor called, jogging their way. Before he reached them, Emery Owen emerged, and the pastor could see the movements of another child making their way out.

This turned out to be June Jensen, or JJ, as he'd learned the other campers called her. One more here, a deputy shouted, reaching his hand into the woods to guide Bet McNeil, the final missing child, out of the woods. Not one of them displayed any marks or injuries, but they shared the same sickly pallor and vacant gaze. The pastor gritted his teeth.

After the paramedics checked them out, the sheriff attempted to take statements from each of the kids, but none gave coherent accounts of what happened to them in the woods. I just feel really tired. I don't remember what happened, Phillips said when asked. Angelina told the sheriff. I remember going in to look for Philip, but it's like all of a sudden the sun came up.

When pressed to remember more, Emery and Angelina spoke of giant tree people, and all but Philip recalled the counselors being out there with them, which was obviously not possible. The paramedics told Pastor Colson to have the kids' parents pick them up and take them to the hospital if they saw fit. There wasn't much they could do besides load them up in ambulances and haul them away. And everyone agreed that seemed a little extreme considering none of them bore a single mark.

Colson had called the missing group's parents after the sheriff had told him to. Emery, Philip, and JJ's lived five hours away, and Bet and Angelina's lived nearly six hours from the outpost. They'd all told him they'd get on the road immediately, but it would be morning until any of them could possibly get there, something which Colson was sure bothered them more than him.

That morning, the pastor told the kids they wouldn't have too much longer to wait, but to sit in the back of the chapel while he gave the morning sermon he'd prepared. He could barely hold his eyes open now that the excitement was over. He wanted to cancel the morning service, but he hoped to be a man. Sticking to the schedule would help calm the other campers. He also wanted them to see the missing kids safe. perhaps not quite sound, but safe.

As he stood at the pulpit looking down at the young audience, he questioned whether bringing the missing kids to the chapel was really a good idea. Even from across the nave they looked so gaunt, so sickly. And were they crying? While he preached, he watched reflective lines descending from every one of the missing kid's eyes. He noticed their eyes slowly turning red. He motioned for Kent to join him on stage and whispered in his ear to ask him to escort the group to the dormitories instead.

Kent obliged, tagging Tyree to help him. Hey guys, why don't you follow us out of here? We'll get you some water and maybe something to eat, said Kent, leaning into their pew. All of them turned his direction in unison. He recoiled. their tears were pink, mixed with blood. Their noses had also started bleeding. Tyree gasped, causing other kids to turn and look. A few of them made startled noises, but everyone began chattering. Karen hurried over but stopped. Kent backed away and looked down.

The bleeding kids weren't looking at him directly, they were staring at his chest, where his crucifix necklace dangled on its silver chain. He instinctively tucked it away, but not before June Jensen threw up on the chapel floor. They need an exorcism, a seventh grade boy chortled to his friends. That's enough, Kent snipped. Pastor Colson stepped down from the pulpit and crossed the nave to speak to the counsellors.

Kent, please take the male campers to their dorm. Karen, would you take the girls? Tyrese, stay here, please. Half the campers had already stormed the chapel doors and started spilling across the damp lawn. The rest stood transfixed in terror or intrigue, staring at their bleeding peers. Guys, go bellowed Tyree. He flung his index finger toward the door. Give us some space now

Are you gonna do an exorcism? A scared fourteen year old whined. None of that now, said Pastor Colson, studying the pleading youth. Tyree, call 911. Let's get the paramedics back here. When she finished heaving, JJ sat up. She looked at the pastor with fresh, colorless tears. The other four kept staring toward the giant cross behind the pulpit, and their tears looked darker than ever. Yeah. Does anything hurt? Colson asked.

Tyree listened in, ready to relay J J's answer to the dispatcher on the line. J J moaned. It all hurts. The cross makes it hurt, But I can't... Her head turned to face the cross. The muscles around her eyes twitched, but the lids remained frozen. I can't stop looking at it. To Tyree, Colson said, it's some kind of evil for sure. There must really be something out in those woods, son. It's not out there anymore, Pastor.

Colson didn't recognize the raspy voice that spoke to him. He examined each child's face. JJ, Emery, Philip, Angelina, Bet, and Gah! A sixth face lurked behind Betts with eyes even redder than hers. It was his own face, his own bloodshot eyes that glared at him through her hair. Due to the early sunlight blasting through the window, he'd failed to notice it right now. notice it right away. He stumbled back, nearly tripping on the corner of the pew behind him.

What what shouted Tyree, moving his phone away from his ear. But the face was already gone. Is help coming? asked Colson. They're on the way, answered Tyree. Amen. Colson nodded. He turned away to think. The children needed to be cleansed, needed to be purified. He didn't know of any nearby bodies of water in which he could baptize them, and besides, he doubted the authorities would look kindly on him dunking the children underwater in their present condition.

Have any of you taken communion before? he asked. Remaining transfixed by the cross, they all nodded. Tyree, get the bread and juice. Tyree, still answering questions over the phone, hurried toward the front of the chapel, then through a door beside the stage. He returned with a baguette and a bottle of Welch's grape. While he was gone, Pastor Colson had dropped to his knees in the aisle and begun praying aloud.

As Tyree handed him the bread, Colson prayed, Lord, these children need to accept your love and forgiveness right now. Help me guide their hearts towards you even if something else wants to turn them away. Turn them away? the same raspy voice asked. Colson heard it closer this time. They've never stared longer upon your holy cross. Colson refused to pay the voice any attention until Tyree gasped and stepped back. He'd seen it too, peering over Angelina's shoulder this time.

Lord? Colson choked. He smelled rot in the air. His next thought caught him off guard. I'm not just losing the fight for these kids. I'm losing the fight for this church. How did this evil get in here? Lord, he bellowed clearly this time, I know it's in your power to destroy the demon attached to these kids. Please, bless this bread and this juice in the name of your son, in honor of his body and blood. He stood, breaking one end off the baguette.

Sliding through the pew in front of them, he handed a piece to JJ, then Philip, then Emery. Emery's piece slipped through his fingers and fell between his feet. He lurched forward to pick it up. He'd been pushed by a black hand Colson saw retract behind the pew. The wrinkled mockery of his own face slid out of sight as well. He quickly passed Angelina and Bette the remainder of the broken piece of bread, then gestured for Tyree to hand him the juice.

I forgot the cups, Tyree groaned, pivoting toward the storage room. No time, said Colson. Tyree ran anyway. Colson unscrewed the cap and positioned himself in front of Bette. I'm sorry, kid. Open up if you can, he added, observing the tension in her body. To his surprise, she tilted her head back, her own blood spilling from her nose and eyes on either side of her lips as they parted. Coulson poured a teaspoon of juice onto her tongue and moved to Angelina, who followed Bette's lead.

Emery took the offering just as obediently, as did Philip. Philip tipped his head so far back Colson worried he might choke on the juice. As he poured it in, Colson noticed clawed fingers tugging at the boy's hair. He immediately looked away. JJ didn't tip her head or open her mouth. Her arms like twin vipers, she snatched the bottle from Colson's hands and held it over herself, turning it upside down and pouring it not only into her mouth but her nose and eyes as well.

The demon shot to its full height, towering halfway to the ceiling. The face that looked like Colson's morphed into something hideously asymmetrical, with a crooked smile and uneven red eyes. Shadows coated. with magma scales formed its crooked torso and disjointed arms. Amen. Colson shouted, Leave us alone. Yeah! Oh, what the hell? A deep voice boomed through the chapel like the voice of God himself. Two paramedics and a deputy.

Pete charged toward the back pew. One of the medics, a large man, tore the bottle away from J.J. and leaned her forward to clear her airways. What happened? the deputy, a tall woman who'd been in the would be search party, asked Colson. His vacant face was still turned upward to where the demon had stood. The children simultaneously vomited purple juice and yellow bile, creating an immediate and horrendous stench far surpassing what any of the emergency personnel had smelled before.

We gotta take him in, the second paramedic, a short man with a thick neck, said. The bigger one nodded. The children refused to leave the pew. Once they finished purging, they all returned their focus to the cross, the upper thirds of their shirts now soaked in blood. Neighboring counties brought more ambulances, and once they had enough stretchers on scene, it took four paramedics and two deputies to hoist each child onto a stretcher and strap them down.

They fought not with violence, but with such rigid resistance it took multiple adults to force them into place. But everything changed once the ambulances left the grounds of the outpost. On the way to the hospital, JJ, Emery, Philip, Angelina, and Bet All fell asleep peacefully. They woke to their parents at their hospital beds, but had little memory of what befell them in the woods or anything that happened after. They wondered if any of it had really happened at all.

Pastor Colson and Tyree answered questions for half an hour after the children had been taken away. Tyree went to the dorms to tell everyone their parents would be called to come pick them up. Colson himself returned to the chapel. He opened the doors without hesitation, but when the foul reek inside met him, he closed it again.

Word spread quickly from the families of those youth who'd witnessed the missing group after they'd returned from the woods. The rest of the camps scheduled for that summer were cancelled, after so many would be attendees unenrolled. The dormitories, showers, and latrines at the outpost all fell into disrepair since, without revenue from the organizations which normally utilized it, there wasn't any money to pay for upkeep.

A freak fire that occurred in twenty eleven when no one should have been at the campground leveled the chapel. Many of the firefighters who battled the blaze reported seeing a figure in the flames so distinct they thought someone was still inside the building. They claimed this silent victim, or arsonist, as some guessed. was incredibly tall, and seemed entirely unbothered by the inferno in which it stood. No remains were found in the ruins.

The woods began to reclaim the outpost with supernatural fervor. Wild bushes and small trees now dot the open space teens once used for ultimate frisbee and capture the flag. They've crept all the way to the rotted out cabins. Soon they will overtake the scorched ground where the chapel once stood. For all intents and purposes, the outpost has been erased. Soon, there won't be a single trace left except the memories of those who spent time there. But as I'm sure you know, Memories.

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