Creepy - Creepaway Camp 2023 - Day 4: Ol' Sammy & Couples Camping Trip

Episode Date: April 13, 2023

Ol' Sammy***Written by: Laugh Man***Couples Camping Trip***Narrated by: Megan Mcduffee***Link: https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/Couples_Camping_Trip***https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/***Megan McDuffee's new album can be found at: https://meganmcduffee.bandcamp.com/album/inner-demons***Check out our reward tiers at patreon.com/creepypod***Sound Design by Pacific Obadiah***Title music by Alex Aldea Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Starting the fire a little early tonight, aren't you, John? Sorry, I haven't been sleeping very well. I thought I'd get a head start and get into bed. You sure that's it? What do you mean? Just saying, you've seemed a little more off than usual. Sorry, I just get anxious sometimes. If you haven't noticed, I don't have a great track record when it comes to camping.

And yet, you dragged us out here. Don't you have any happy camping stories? You grew up in Minnesota, right? You must have at least a few memories that aren't filled with loss and regret. None that I can think of. You're thinking about high school, aren't you? I'm always thinking about high school. Well, there was old Sammy.

Tell you what, that was a laugh, man. We arrived at the general store at dusk to grab some basic supplies before we settled in. into the cabin for the night. I found our weekend getaway on Airbnb for a steal. Those last minute deals really do pay off sometimes. I let the host know we were arriving later than expected. She usually meets the renter at the property to review some things at check-in, but really, we all know she wants to size us up.

She replied it wasn't a problem with a smiling emoji at the end, so I figured we had a buffer to take our time. Every year we do a couple's trip for a three-day weekend get away, somewhere in the States. And this year, I picked a remote cabin in the Appalachian Mountains of Pennsylvania. The weather was perfect for the weekend. No rain and cool nights. I deal this at fireside. And I found a three-bedroom cabin with running water, which is apparently unheard of in the rural parts of the state. Most of the local cabins were used for hunters in the fall, so the area was pretty remote heading into the thick of summer. As soon as I parked, my passengers rushed to the

storefront like a couple of college kids. I yelled after them to behave because we were in fact not college age anymore, but respectable adults in our mid-30s, who definitely intended to get blackout drunk in the woods as soon as possible. Katie and Kevin were the newest couple and wildly in their honeymoon phase. Jacob was my oldest friend and was his girlfriend to several years' stuff. And then there was me and Peyton, still going strong after five years. the quote-unquote old married couple of the group. No, I hadn't popped the question yet.

I leg behind the others making sure the doors were locked before heading inside the store. When I pulled into the gravel lot, I noticed a man sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch of the shop. As soon as the girls exited the car, his rocking came to a halt and his eyes were fixated on us instead of whatever space is minded occupy prior. He had tufts of wispy hair rising from his head. Dark smears of grime on his face and clothes and piercing blue eyes, paler than I'd ever seen. He was petite and rugged. Something about him was just off.

I watched him out of the corner of my eyes. I tugged on the handle of our rental van, ensuring it was locked. First, I just wanted to make sure he didn't mess with our stuff while we were inside, but... Once I saw his eyes dart towards the women in the group, I felt obligated to do something. The last thing we need was this guy finding his way to our cabin after dark. I slowly stepped up on the porch outside the entrance and stopped a look at him, mustering up all my courage to look spiteful and tough,

even though I had not one mean bone in my body. In fact, it was a complete opposite and avoided confrontation most of the time. one of the other guys would have been better suited to do this, but I didn't want to draw too much attention to the situation. Testosterone mixed with alcohol never ends well with these guys. So I thought it best did not escalate the situation prematurely. The old man's eyes met mine. His icy blues unblinking sent a frozen shiver down my spine.

We stared at each other for a few drawn-out moments. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I started to sweat as I held as gild as gild. gaze, refusing to drop first. He let out a huff and then turned his head breaking our unspoken contest, started rocking again, mumbling nonsense under his breath. Relieved, the minor confrontation was over. I continued inside and shakily released the breath I was holding.

I was satisfied with the outcome of sending my silent message. Most of the group were by the checkout corner by the time I got in there. I grabbed a bag of chips and some donuts and walked up to the counter. It was covered in bottles of liquor. Guys, I said in astonishment, we're only here for two nights. It's a little excessive. Rolling their eyes, the girls burst into laughter and took their stuff from the counter to head back out to the van. It's hard being the responsible one in a moment like this. I want to be carefree and reckless with them, but those feelings were robbed from me when I I counter the man in the rocking chair.

I nudged Kevin, handing him the keys, and told him to go out with him to the van. I'd get the rest of the stuff. He jogged after him, releasing a loud, woo! As he exited the building, cracking open his bottle of captain. Jacob appeared next to me at the counter, adding another bottle of liquor and some pork rinds to the pile of junk food. As a cashier rang up our stuff, I leaned over to Jacob and asked him if you saw the man in the rocking chair out front. I said he creeped me out. Who?

Old Sammy? The clerk interrupted. He's harmless. I paused, eyeing up to clerk as he continued to ring us out. He lives in that rocking chair from dawn till dusk. He don't bother nobody but the birds. He read us our toll and we dug into our pockets for cash. What about after dusk?

I asked the clerk laying my crinkle bills on the counter. He swed his sweat. whipped him up and smoothed them out against the edge of the counter trying to get the wrinkles out. Never asked, he replied, holding my bill up to the light to find a security strip, flicking the bill, he added, none of my beeswax. He finished our transaction and threw the change on the countertop and leaned back on his barstool, crossing his arms. In a dry, dark tone, he muttered, be careful out there, folks.

You never know what lurks in them woods. We paused for a moment staring at him, unclear if he was fucking with us. Then he burst into laughter, grabbing his sides and pointing in our faces. You should see yourselves. He shrilled, nearly falling off his bar stool. His laughter continued as we picked up the assortment of snacks and bottles from the counter and walked out the door. We walked towards the porch steps, and I pulled on Jacob's arm to stop him. I looked over at old Sammy motioning for Jacob past judgment himself.

His eyes falled mine. Sammy was back to rocking in the chair, staring off into space. Shrugging, Jacob hopped off the porch and jogged over to the van with the others. I took another step and looked back at a little Sammy one last time. The loud creaking of his rocking made his blink stare creepier. I sighed to myself trying to embrace the innocence of his existence and walked down the steps. Careful, son. A low voice said after I'd turned.

I stopped suddenly and looked back. The clerk was leaning in the doorway and Samuel was dead still staring straight at me. Neither them utter a word or made a smirk alluding to it had spoken. Who said that? I demanded turning to face him. They only met me with stairs. Hurry up! One of the guys shouted from behind me.

I hesitated a moment longer, staring back at the two men and defeated. I walked to the van. When I got into the driver's seat, everyone erupted with joy. The bottles were already open, and the sweet smell of booze hit my nostrils. I flipped down the headlights and glanced back up to the porch one last time. The clerk was gone, and the rocking chair was empty, but moving as if a ghost were taking a joyride in Sammy's place. I looked around the empty lot for old Sammy.

There's no way he could have gotten that far that fast, but... He was nowhere in sight. Did you guys see? I trailed off, mainly because no one was paying attention to me, but I also didn't want to ruin their fun over my personal paranoia. I looked up to the skyline to see dusk officially disappear into dark, right on par with what the clerk said. The night sank behind the mountains, dragging its rays with it.

The stars were popping at the edges of the purple sky. I'm sure old Sammy was just off to wherever it is, he'd go to dusk and there was nothing to worry about. I had to convince myself of this or it would ruin the whole weekend. When we arrived at the cabin, it was buried deep in the woods down a winding narrow lane. We hadn't passed another house for miles, so we were truly immersed in a weekend getaway alone in the woods. The chalet was stunning, with its dramatic wooden wraparound deck, and floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the entire house.

The host was not on site as I expected. I knew we were running late, but didn't notice how late. She'd sent the door code to the app earlier in the day but wanted to go over the ground rules when we arrived. I guess we're off the hook. No one likes to meet the host anyway. It's kind of weird when they insert themselves into your vacation, offering their services or recommendations and reassuring you that they're just down the road if you need anything but really waiting for you to fuck something up.

I'd rather just show up, open a bottle of wine they left me, and avoid the unwanted pleasantries or renting their home. I punched in the code and the door unlocked. Victory. Everyone grabbed their stuff from the van and unloaded into their prospective rooms. A rush of excitement and ice cubes clinking against glasses filled the space as everyone settled in with their first of many drinks. Jacobs scoped out the deck and found a fire pit with stacked wood ready to burn down below in the yard.

I sent a message to the host letting you know we finally arrived when we were sorry for having missed her, but that the place was amazing, and we appreciated the firewood for the pit. With that, I took my phone in my pocket and cracked open my own bottle. Sitting by the fire later that evening, the flames licked the air above the wood piled high, glowing only bright enough to illuminate our bodies. It was pitch black beyond the perfectly placed circle of stones we sat amongst. A light rustle of wind swept through the treetops on occasion, moving a creaky branch that kept haunting us from the darkness.

Other sounds of the night filled in the gaps of the wind with crickets and cicadas and the occasional owl. The Adirondack chairs were coupled up and strewn with blankets and bodies as the guys sank into their seats and the girls sank into the guys. Their cheeks grew rosier with the warmth of the liquor. Laughter erupted as we finished up a game of Never Have I Ever began to reminisce about vacations passed. Someone suggested the next time we go to an island or beach where the bars are accessible. My feelings were a little hurt as this trip was my idea, but I knew a way to spice it up. Ghost stories. The guys groaned, but the girls were all on board to get freaked out.

They'd dive into a classic tale of lovers lane and a serial killer with a hook for a hand. A twig snapped outside of our sight line. Everyone jumps simultaneously. Then everyone laughs at their collective scare. Kevin yells threats fueled by alcohol into the emptiness in his mouth's silence. Katie tells him to calm down and encourages me to continue the story. They all know how it ends, but there's something about the fireside setting and being miles from a stranger that makes it scarier. Another twig snaps. This time it's closer.

Kevin stands up and yells again. Jacob joins him, shining a flashlight out into the woods. A brief reflection of yellow eyes meets to beam a light, and an animal scrambles away into the night. Maybe it's old Sammy, I say. Jacob rolls his eyes and flops back down in this chair. Kevin, satisfied with the outcome, being an animal, settled back down and asked who old Sammy is. I decided to spin a tale of the man from the porch.

I couldn't let the thought of him keep me from enjoying myself this weekend, so I took control of the situation and made a story of myself. I'll give a tale part demented, part torture about old Sammy and how he ended up in that rocking chair. His mind blown from the horrors he'd seen, leaving him staring into space forever. There around the corner for the punchline, everyone leaning on the edge of their seats.

I build and build until another twig snaps. Once again, everyone jumps collectively, a slight delay from the alcohol that had been consumed. Jacob clicked on his flashlight and chines it out past her circle. Another crack. and then another leaves rustling that something moves closer to us. Jacob holds his light, the beam unsteady and the shaking hand.

The creaky tree branch winds in the wind above us as we wait for the reveal of the woodland creature. A faint voice speaks from the shadows. A phrase only familiar to one. Careful, son. A man's feet appear in the beam of the light. Jacob slowly lifts the light to his face. It's old Sammy. His pale blue eyes

swallowing the light from Jacob's torch making his eyes seem milky white. His finger is pointed to me, shaking with age. He takes a step forward and repeats the phrase careful, son. Katie screams at the top of her lungs and immediately starts with the cabin.

Step follows suit also screaming, knocking her chair over and breaking her glass. She screams louder as the shards enter her foot in her haste, but Peyton grabs her and helps her limb quickly toward the deck, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. Jacob drops his flashlight at the sight of the old man as Kevin munches for him, but falls to the ground, missing Sammy completely.

Just like that, while Samuel was gone. Kevin recovers from the ground and tries to chase him into the woods, screaming endless threats, but I hold him back telling him to get inside. I ordered Jacob to pick up his flashlight and leave everything else. Kevin is pushing against me like a madman, but I managed to get him turned around

when I tell him there's blood on the ground because someone was injured. He immediately thinks it's Katie and heightails it inside. Jacob and I follow close behind. Inside, the girls are screaming. Katie's hysterically checking all the window locks and doors while Peyton pulls the sheer curtains closed on what windows had them. Steps on the kitchen floor crying in agony,

pulling on the shards sticking out at the bottom of her foot with Jacob by her side. Kevin is raging around the room looking for a weapon. I try to get everyone to calm down, but no one's listening. After a moment, I lose my grip and yell at the top of my lungs for everyone to shut up and they fall silent. I tell everyone to get in the living room and sit down on the floor. They all gather sitting between two sofas and a coffee table. I pace back and forth running my hands through my hair while I try to think about the situation.

The doors are locked and the windows too, for we're basically sitting in a house. fishbow with no sight line to the outside. Only old Sammy can see in. As eye pace, Jacob gently says my name to get my attention. How did he know where to find us? He asks. The others begin speaking simultaneously asking what Jacob was talking about, asking if I knew this man. I explained I had a bad feeling at the general store earlier that night, but I didn't want to bother him with my paranoia. The clerk said the man was harmless, but clearly he was wrong if he stalked us all the way out here in the woods. He was just out there, listening, watching. Katie jumped up and ran to the front door again, flicking the lights, which is on and off trying to find the porch light so we

could see outside. They didn't work. Kevin did the same at the back door to no avail. We were literally sitting ducks and everyone started to get loud again with panic. I tried to calm him down by pointing out to Samu's old and frail. There's no way he could get in here. Steph corrected me saying anyone could smash one of these enormous windows and get inside. I asked if anyone called 911 yet. The sea of frowns spread across the room. Phones are at the fire pit, Jacob uttered. All of them?

I exclaimed. Even yours? Jacob reminded me. A rush of defeat came over me. I paused for a few minutes before I spoke, really giving my next statement some stuff. thought, I'll go to the fire pit and grab one. Peyton pleaded with me, begging me to stay inside, but I insisted it be me. Sammy muttered his phrase to me and me alone.

He's familiar with me, so maybe I stand a chance. I made my way to the back door. Kevin gripped the doorknob. I told him to stand guard and let me back in the minute I returned. He agreed. I took a deep breath, looked at a deep breath, looked at a doornaut. in the eye and nodded my head. As soon as he opened the door, a woman screamed from within the woods.

Before I had a chance to even move, Kevin slammed the door closed and turned the lock. Her screams carried through the walls of the cabin. Drag growing on the faces of the group sitting on the floor as the woman continued to scream. I look back at Kevin. He shakes his head, no. Then she falls silent. Then we are silent. No one even breathes as we wait for a while.

what's next. Something gets a glass window next to me and Kevin. He jumps halfway across the room screaming. A dark man is in the window, and the thrown object lays on the deck a few feet away. Is it an animal? Did Sammy kill a rabbit and chuck it at the cabin to scare us? Kevin slowly walks back towards a window. Katie pleads with him not to get too close, but he shushes saying he just wants to see what it is. He gets closer to the window. His own nervous reflection illuminate it. He tries to look on the porch to see what it is, but it's too dark.

He calls for Jacob to bring his flashlight over, but Jacob refuses to move. Kevin calls him a pussy and tells him to just bring it, so Jacob does his best and tosses it over to him. Kevin turns it on, shining the beam through the window. The light bounces back at it, making it difficult to see through the glass. He gets closer to the window and sees that the mark left behind his tinted red with blood. He shines a beam at an angle down to the floorboards of the deck, focusing in on the carnage he now sees clearly. It's a forearm. His forearm, with a petite hand bent awkwardly at the wrist,

ring reflecting the white light of the torch. Kevin slaps his hand over his mouth trying not to puke when, bam! Something else hits the window mere inches from his face. This time a loud thud as the object hits the deck. Kevin falls backwards hitting the floor. The flashlight lands by the window, shining directly into the face of a woman. She stares at him, wide-eyed and frozen in horror with nothing attached below her neck. Everyone screams and huddles together in the center of the room.

I run to both doors and flip the interior lights off so whatever's outside can't see inside. I run to join the group. Everyone's whispering and shrill voices. are crying. I find Peyton and hold on tight. The flashlight remains on highlighting the severed head and nothing else. I squeeze my eyes shut trying to deny the circumstances. A faint glow from the fire pit offers very little clarity beyond the back deck. In a hush tone, I tell everyone to remain as quiet and still as possible. A dark figure ascends the stairs gingerly. Its feet scurry across the wood planks to the door.

It tries to knob, but finds it locked. It taps slightly on the door. Heavy breathing and sniffing can be heard through the frame. The floorboards creak as it makes its way to the head and form laying on the floor. The flashlight offers no help in identifying the being, but we all assume this whole Sammy. From behind us, a heavy thud is heard followed by another as something larger steps on the front porch. The sound of dragging limbs follows this new creature as it makes its way toward the old Sammy. Of course he has someone working with him.

The frail old man couldn't create this carnage himself. A dark figure passes the enormous windows of the cabin on our right. We all stare in horror at the terrifying size of this mystery silhouette passing by our windows. Old Sammy doesn't stick around. He leans down and scoops up to severed forearm and takes off down the same. steps and back into the woods. The large creature arrives at the back deck and pauses, sniffing the air. It grunts and looks in the direction of the head as it advances in the firelight. Its silhouette reveals a tall muscular figure with patches of hair raising from the arms and torso, a long snout

protruding from its face. It walks on two legs with long arms and pointed claws jutting from its fingers. It faces the window. We cower at the potential of being seen. Is it trying to see in? Is it staring at its heinous reflection? It leans down to the woman's head, sniffing the neck hole with its snout rocking it slightly like a dog sniffing a toy. A howl erupts from the woods. The creature turns to face the forest. Aggressive grunting emerges. from its belly. Suddenly it takes off running. Its heavy feet slamming against the steps

as it leaves the deck and tears through the woods. Too afraid to move, fearing it may come back, we sat huddled as the group listens for the sounds of sporadic howling throughout the night. Sometimes heard deep in the woods, sometimes right outside our cabin door. The howls were met with growls and grunts wrestling in the bushes in a game of hide-and-seek.

The back and forth of heavy footing and the light pitter-patter of old Sammy's feet keep us awake most of the night as he led the creature through the woods and seemingly away from us. All night I could only think about one thing. Did old Sammy save us? Did he know this would happen? I'd remained on the floor with the others, dozing in and out of consciousness all night until first light. I gently moved Peyton from my lap and carefully and quietly walked toward the back door. gently placing my ear against it, listening for any signs of life outside. I slowly turned a lock on the handle and open the door just an inch.

Fresh air danced across my face and I gulped down like water through the crack. After I gained my composure, I listened again. Only the familiar sound of creaking tree branches swaying and the wind remained. The thuds had stopped. The howls were no more, and the shuffling of lightweight feet had dissipated. The sun was growing brighter and beginning to illuminate the horror left on the deck. I took a hesitant step closer to the severed head. The flashlight batteries had died sometime during the night, but now I could see the head in full light.

Her eyes stared directly at me. The skin drained of all color, veins and tendons spewing out the opening to her neck. It was the Airbnb host. I stooped down, still keeping some distances I examined her. It looked as if her head had been ripped from her body. But where was the rest of her? A blood-curdling scream came from behind me, scaring the shit out of me and bringing the others to their feet.

Katie stood eyes wide and pointed out the window into the distance. Kevin grabbed her pulling her close, and she sobbed hysterically into his shirt. It was the rest of her. of the host. Her body was ripped at the stomach and she was suspended by her intestines from a tree just past the fire pit. Claw marks were all over her legs and arm. A wave of nausea hit me as I realized the creaking branch from the night before was making that noise from the weight of her headless body swaying in the wind. She had been there the whole time. We just couldn't see her in the darkness.

When the cops showed up, I immediately told them about old Sammy. How he'd ogled us at the general store and must have followed us to the cabin. How he watched us from the shadows and scared us inside. How he took the woman's arm and fled up to the woods. How he howled through the night until the sun came up. But I didn't mention the creature. None of us did. Who had believed that a larger-than-life being, a wolf-man,

exists in these woods, especially coming from a bunch of drunk couples who were clearly looking to party. I told them I didn't know if there's old Sammy that caused these violent actions, but he's clearly present last night. They assured me it wasn't him. Old Samuel was in his rocker that very morning,

well-rested and staring into space like always. He was in the same clothes as he is every day and not a drop of blood was on him. Old Sammy doesn't get around, well, noticed he speak much but a few words of nonsense. He only gives hell to the birds. We packed up and left that day. I drove to the general store and there he was, rocking away.

I told everyone I'd be just a minute and hopped out of the van walking over to him. He rocked away, a chair creaking fast on the wooden floor boards. His word's unclear. That is simple thank you. I was sure he saved us. but he continued to stay in his own little world. As I turned to go back to the van, I noticed he had a ring on his pinky finger. A shiny silver ring that looked just like the one of the severed arm last night.

As I stared at it in recognition. I didn't notice while Sammy stopped rocking and was staring right at me. Careful, son, he whispered. Well, I guess that would rank as the top of your camping experience, wouldn't it? Oh, and you've had a better experience camping with other people? Better? No. But I do know a story about a couple's camping trip. It was a chilly October morning when they set out on their way.

Fred Williams, his girlfriend Melanie, best friend Pete, and Pete's girlfriend, Jacqueline. Fred was a quiet, loner type, who was never very popular in high school. Melanie was a sweet and charming girl who had quite a few friends in her social circle. Pete was the kind of guy who thought, he was God's gift to mankind, though he did care for his friends very deeply. Jacqueline liked to gossip and spread rumors more than anyone else they knew. This unlikely group of friends had become closer in their college years, as none of them went out of state while many of their other friends did.

On the first weekend of the month, they had planned a camping trip to the woods near their hometown. Fred was the most familiar with the area, as he had been there several times as a Boy Scout on other camping trips. Pete and Jacqueline weren't thrilled about being away from modern conveniences, but spending time with Fred and Melanie was more important. When they arrived, they chose an open area surrounded by trees. It was serene and nearly silent as they began setting up their tents and the rest of their gear. They could hear birds chirping in the distance and occasionally the rustling of the falling leaves. They worked well as a team.

Fred was reading the instructions for the tents. Pete hammered in the stakes for them. Melanie started gathering nearby wood for a fire, and Jacqueline searched the area for cell phone reception. She lamented that all the trees must have been blocking the signal. Once the tents had all been set up, the sun was beginning to set. They made a fire within a circle of rocks, as per Fred's suggestion, in order to keep it contained. Melanie produced marshmallows from her bag, along with graham crackers and chocolate bars. Before long, the marshmallows were impaled by skewers and roasting for s'mores and the entire group's enjoyment.

Pete stated that he was bored, and Jacqueline suggested that they play campfire games. They started with truth or dare, but quickly found that it was too childish, even for the gossip queen herself. Pete then suggested they all tell each other ghost stories in an effort to frighten one another. He also added a drinking game component, which involved visible flinching becoming grounds for one to down a bottle of beer from the cooler. They agreed, and each of them began thinking of what story they would tell as they finished their smores.

Pete decided he wanted to go first, since he was convinced his story would be the scariest. He told a modified version of the Hookman legend, which ended in the story's male protagonist, punching the killer in the mouth and saving the day. Understandably, this scared no one. And as per another rule that he had set, Pete had to drink a beer because of it. He was mad, but only because of the fact that his story failed to frighten. He was certainly no stranger to drinking beer, and it was all in good fun anyway. Melanie told the tale of a college girl who had gone to stay at her roommate's house in the country over the holiday break.

The weather was bad, the house was old, and there wasn't much to do. One night the girls were in the house alone, and a monstrous storm hit. The power went out, and they decided to go to bed. I heard the door crash open, and the girl whose family owned the house went to close it. After a few tense minutes, she came back. Her frightened roommate reached out to touch her, and soon soon, found her to be decapitated. The boys laughed it off as being ridiculous.

Jacqueline jumped a bit at the ending reveal, so she started drinking her beer as she began to relate her story. She shared a story about a teenage babysitter, asked to look after a pair of children while their parents were at a social gathering. The children had gone to bed early, and she was up watching television when she began to receive strange hang-up calls

from a blocked number. After a few times, a whispering voice on the other end, asked, have you checked on the children? The girl began to feel threatened, so she called the police and asked them to trace the number the next time a call came. A more demanding voice accompanied the next call, ordering her to see what had happened to the children and claiming she would be next. At first, they seemed to be sleeping safe and sound in their beds, but when she turned on the light, their throats had been slit and they were dead. At that moment, the police called back and informed her that the calls were coming from inside the house. She dropped the phone in terror and felt

cold metal pressed against her throat. Pete flinched, causing him to have to drink another beer. Melanie and Fred both said they had seen that in a recent movie that wasn't very well made. Finally, it was Fred's turn, and his expression turned very stern and serious. He spoke of a demon that likes to roam forests and wooded areas like the one they were camping in. The demon prays on the souls of the weak, he said, looking around at each of his friends. He once possessed a man in a car with his son and forced him to crash into a brick wall, killing him. The little boy watched his father die before his eyes and could do nothing about it.

Fred claimed that the demon was responsible for a variety of unexplained deaths and disappearances. including another boy who went missing from Pennsylvania, and the brutal murders of a group of office employees on a camping trip of their own. He said it resembles a collection of animals molded together as one being. It has hooves for feet, a tall ape-like body, spade-shaped tail, claws like a rodent, bat-like wings, the head of a goat, and eyes like that of a snake. He concluded by saying that you can summon the demon by saying its name,

and then he shouted, Sorak! Everyone jumped and subsequently had to drink a beer. They went to bed shortly thereafter and all was quiet. Pete got up late at night because all the beer he drank required him to relieve his bladder frequently. He went into the trees and was quickly breathing a sigh of relief. Several minutes went by and he didn't return to his tent. Jacqueline had woken up and was still shaken from all the scary stories.

She waited for him to come back and comfort her. When he didn't, she knew that something was wrong. She went over to Fred and Melanie's tent to see if they were still awake. She didn't want to disturb anyone if they were sleeping, but she was concerned about her boyfriend's safety. She took a flashlight with her and roamed the nearby woods, calling his name at about average speaking volume. Off into the trees, she went, until something startled her.

She screamed for only a second or two before her flashlight fell to the ground and silence enveloped the night once more. Melanie heard the scream, though. She asked Fred if he'd heard it too. He said it was probably just Pete playing a joke on her to make up for not scaring anyone before. Melanie was still concerned and wanted Fred to check on them. He did, and quickly reported back that they weren't in their tent

or in the immediate area. She insisted that they had to go look for their missing friends because she was too scared to be left alone and they couldn't wait until morning. They grabbed their flashlights and started combing the area just beyond the fire's light. They moved out further and further, finding only more trees. They were within shouting distance of each other, but separated to cover more ground. Suddenly, Pete's mutilated body fell from a tree in front of Melanie, and she screamed in terror.

Fred ran to her, but it was too late. She had disappeared into the darkness, leaving only her flashlight behind. He picked it up and saw Pete's body on the ground. Hanging from a nearby tree was Jacqueline's body, with her throat ripped out. He stumbled back to retreat to the campsite and fell to the ground. He reached for his flashlight and quickly discovered that he had tripped over the dead body of Melanie. Having no time to mourn the loss of his closest friends, he scurried back to his feet and made a beeline for the dim light of the campfire.

A dark figure followed him there. He could hear the footsteps and the leaves behind him. He turned around and saw that it was the very creature he was describing to his friends earlier in the evening. It closed in on him, breathing deeply through its snout. He knew the beast was about to do the same thing to him as it had done to his friends. He closed his eyes, swallowed the saliva in his mouth, and braced for it. The creature swung at Fred with its claws, and he ducked out of the way, surprising it. He grabbed a pocket knife from the back of his pants and slashed the thing's arm open.

He took the blood from it with his finger and applied it to his tongue. Smiling, he said, this is for my father, you son of a bitch. He then said indistinguishable words from some ancient language, and both beings blacked out. Fred awoke, staring at his frightened body from above. He heard his own voice pleading for mercy, but he showed none. He reached down and ripped his own throat out. His arm was still cut, but it was healing quickly. As he walked away from the campsite,

he remembered the words that came from his father's mouth just before the crash. He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man. Great. Now I'm thinking about high school again. John, if we're going to be watching kids for this little camp thing, I think you might want to tone down on all of the same. your grade school issues. Danielle, if I didn't do things that were shaped by my experience in high school and middle school,

I'd never have become a podcaster. But you're right, I'll try not to think about it. Or wake up scream crying. You know that dream where you're back in school but only wearing underwear? Yeah, those are the worst. Whatever. I'd kill for those. Nate, look at me.

I'd kill for those. I think it might be past John's bedtime. John? Sorry. Drifted off there for a second. Sorry, I'm not much fun tonight. Come on, John. I'll walk you back to your cabin.

Thanks, Megan. If you like, I can sing you a couple of songs off my Inner Demon's album. The one that's available right now on Spotify and band camp? That'd be nice. Plus, that'll make up for us doing camp and not being able to run out in your songs during the Episodes. Episodes? You're recording all of this?

Wow, look at the time. I think I hear my mom calling to tell me I left the stove on. Night all. Did you guys know he had this place wired for audio? Like Prince's bathroom. Which Prince? Harry or Philip? No, the real Prince. Artist formerly known as Rest in Purple.

Ooh, did anyone read Harry's new book? I'm going to go wander off in the woods and see if I can get attacked by the Suppose at Axe Murderer John mentioned a few nights ago. Night all.