Somewhere in the woods surrounding Sunset City a group of college students were sitting around the campfire telling stories. The group was comprised of a double date. The first couple was Blake and Kate. The others were Shelby and John. It was currently Blake’s turn, and he was telling a story that supposedly happened in the camp they were squatting at for the night, Camp Naguely Offensive Vame.
Blake and John were both stereotypical jocks: broad shouldered, tall, and just handsome enough to be considered so. Shelby had her raven hair tied back in a ponytail, wireframe glasses laying on the bridge of her nose, and was wearing a polo shirt and khakis. Kate meanwhile was wearing a cleavage revealing tank top and jean short shorts.
“Ok so the story goes like this. Once upon a time there was this loser…”
He was promptly interrupted by his friend John, “Hey, lay off the fictitious kid.”
With an eyeroll Blake continued his story, “Back on topic, this poor sweet summer child was bullied by every other person at camp, even the paste eater. No one could ever tell why he was chosen, he was just chosen as the sacrifice, the scapegoat. The children showed just how cruel kids can be by inflicting every horror they could imagine on him. They would put random stuff they found in the woods into his food, sometimes making him sick and sometimes it just made the food taste bad. They would pants or wedgie him whenever they passed by and he was not paying attention. Then there was the psycho stuff: thumbtacks in his shoes, peeing all over his clothes, and creating a fake secret admirer that he was tricked into falling for only to be mocked by everyone. Honestly it was a lot of work for something so meaningless.”
“As with many things, the attacks escalated and with this Robby became more and more resentful, but not at his peers. He somehow had the maturity to know that the other kids were not at fault, the fault lied with the counselors who did nothing when they witnessed the abuse. The abuses he suffered grew ever worse as his tormentors feared consequences less and less. This culminated in the worst night of his life, also his last. They woke Robby up in the middle of the night by throwing a backpack over his head. When he struggled against his attackers, they proceeded to tighten their grip on his limbs and lay into his ribs with several punches. When they carried him into the woods, they passed a counselor. When the counselor asked what they were doing, the kids said horseplaying and Robby begged for help. The counselor decided he did not really care and took the path that required less work, to take the kids words over Robby’s. When the kids reached a clearing in the woods, they dropped Robby on the ground. When they did, they realized he was no longer breathing. Hyperventilating and restricted airflow are an unfortunately fatal combination. Scared of the consequences, they ran back to their bunks and feigned sleep even though it never came to them, too tormented by the realization of what they did and had become.”
“The funny and tragic thing is that if they got him help, they could have prevented two tragedies. For you see Robby was not dead just unconscious, but a night in a ditch without help remedied that. The first tragedy was that of a young boy’s tragic and premature death. The second was what came later. As the young boy’s corpse lay in that clearing his soul was trapped in his earthly vessel by his unjust death. That young boy was then twisted by his hate and resentment into an unholy creature. Robby had become a twisted mockery of the human form: one arm gigantic, one skin and bones, one foot facing forward, the other backwards, skin a sickly gray, and a face that could be barely recognized as human let alone as Robby’s. The abomination started making its way back to the cabins while picking up a shovel it encountered along the way. When the kids woke up the next day it was to all the counselors’ entrails spread across the camp. The monster was never seen again but is said to still wander these woods to this day.”
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“Well on that note I gotta go empty my bladder on some tree. Here’s hoping that I don’t meet Robby along the way.” John chuckled before walking into the woods.
John, while relieving himself, caught a large shadow shambling in the background.
“F*ck. F*ck. F*ck.” John stated while running back to his group. “Guuuuyyyyssss… there’s a bear or something.”
“John, calm down. There’s nothing bigger than a racoon in these woods.” His teammate told him.
“Yeah, don’t be a p*ssy.” Shelby mocked.
His date meanwhile defended him, “John. Shelby. Let’s just hear what he has to say. Maybe he saw something legitimate.”
“I saw this huge shadow…” John started before getting interrupted.
His date chuckled, “Or not.”
“If these stories are too spooky for the big baby, we can just shoot the sh*t until nighttime.” Blake presented an offer that was promptly accepted.
“We could talk about all the great d*ck and p*ssy we’ve gotten.” Shelby pitched.
Her friend instantly shot down that suggestion, “I do not believe that is suitable date talk.”
They spent the rest of the night talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Well, everything except the “bear” that John mentioned. Which they really really should have. Well, they should have gotten out of there at the first sign of trouble but discussing the “bear” was a distant second.
They then turned in for the night. Blake and Kate went to their induvial tents, while the other couple played hide the hotdog in their shared tent placed far from the other two.