Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Dark Secrets at Summer Camps True Stories of Death, Mystery, and Unsolved Crimes PART2 #68

Episode Date: November 5, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #summercampmystery #unsolvedcrimes #darkcampstories #camphorrorstories #truecrimestories  Part 2 continues the chilling summer camp stories, diving deeper into death, mysterious disappearances, and unsolved crimes. The woods grow darker, cabins more ominous, and campers’ experiences reveal the sinister secrets lurking behind the cheerful façade of camp life. These real-life tales remind us that danger can hide where we least expect it — even in places meant for fun and friendship.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, summercamphorrorstories, truecrimestories, darkcampmysteries, unsolvedcases, campdeathstories, chillingencounters, creepyexperiences, scarycampstories, sinistercampstories, unsettlingmoments, nightmarestories, realhorrorstories, spookytales, terrifyingexperiences

There's so much rugby on Sports Extra from Sky. They've asked me to read the whole lad at the same speed I usually use for the legal bit at the end. Here goes. This winter Sports Extra is jam-packed with rugby. For the first time we've got every Champions Cup match exclusively live, plus action from the URC, the Challenge Cup, and much more. Thus the URC and all the best European rugby all in the same place.

Get more exclusively live tournaments than ever before on Sports Extra. Jampact with rugby. Phew, that is a lot of rugby. Get Sports Extra on Sky for 15 euro a month for 12 months. Search Sports Extra. New Sports Extra customers only. Standard Pressing applies after 12 months for the terms apply. Collini, did you know if your age between 25 and 65?

Well, you can get a free HPV cervical check. It's one of the best ways to protect yourself from cervical cancer. And you know what? I actually checked only recently when mine was due and no exaggeration. It took me less than five minutes. You go online to hse.c.org slash cervical check. But in your PPS number, shake in the date of birth. And then they tell you when your next appointment is due.

Oh my God. I know. I know. And you can check you're on the register on the website so you can phone [phone]. If your test is due today, you can book today are hsccccc. i.e. 4 slash servical check. Campfires, shadows, and the stories we weren't supposed to hear. Chapter 1, when the games didn't feel like games.

We still played capture the flag, we still roasted marshmallows and made esmores by the lake, but none of it felt the same anymore. Normally, Camp Linux was my happy place. It was where the air smelled like pine needles, where nights hummed with crickets, and where laughter bounced across the lake like echoes of summer freedom. But after what we saw in the woods that night, the games felt fake.

It was Sam who finally broke the silence in our cabin. He whispered into the dark one night, and from then on, the quiet shattered. The younger campers, who hadn't seen what we saw, whispered two, spinning wild stories under their blankets. They invented a whole new camp legend, that a serial killer was stalking. the forest, waiting for kids who wandered too far from the cabins. I never joined in. I didn't need a scary story to keep me awake. I had my own replaying in my head, the image of that man slumped against the oak tree, his clothes shredded, his skin gray. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him again. Jake, our counselor, checked in the following

night. Normally he was the goofy one, the guy who could make you laugh even when you were homesick. But not then. His smile was gone. His voice was low. You guys okay, he asked, scanning our faces with a seriousness I wasn't used to seeing in him. I nodded, even though it was a lie. None of us were okay. You don't stumble across something like that and bounce back with a round of dodgeball the next day. We had seen something that didn't belong in the upbeat bubble of summer camp. Something heavy. Something final. After that night, we didn't talk about it much. Not even with each other. Maybe we were afraid that saying it out loud would make it worse, or maybe we just didn't have the words.

Chapter 2. Goodbye Sanctuary When my parents picked me up at the end of the session, I pasted on my best, I'm fine, face. My mom asked about camp, and I told her it was great, same as always. But inside, I was hollow. Looking back, I think I was quietly depressed. Camp Linux used to be a sanctuary for me, a place where I could escape the noise of Boston and the stress of school. But now, it was tainted. Every memory of camp came with the smell of decomposition burned into it.

The police never told us much. The man's identity wasn't officially released, but word around camp was that he was a 35-year-old who had died by suicide. That explanation was supposed to make it less scary. Instead, it made it worse. Because now I knew his death wasn't an accident of nature. It was a choice. and we were the unlucky ones who stumbled across the aftermath. Chapter 3. Flashback to 1999.

Here's the thing, I've had encounters with creepy stories long before Camp Lennox. I was 13 in the summer of 1999, back when I lived in Oklahoma City. That August, before school started, I went to a sleepover at my friend Leah's house. It was tradition. Every end of summer, we'd have one last sleepover to celebrate the freedom we were about to lose. We'd stay up too late, eat junk food, and dare each other to tell the scariest stories we could come up with. That year, we weren't alone. A girl named Emma joined us. Her parents were good friends with Laas, and though I'd never met her before, she fit right in.

She was quiet at first, but once the candy hit and the giggles started, she blended in. into our group like she'd always been there. We built a little tent out of blankets in the living room and turned it into our storytelling fort. The game was simple, pass around the flashlight, hold it under your chin, and try to spook the others. Leia and I recycled the same ghost stories we'd been telling since second grade, tweaking little details each year. We teased each other about it.

But when it was Emma's turn, she did something different. Can I turn the flashlight off? she asked. We exchanged looks. Usually the rule was flashlight under the chin. It made the shadows creepy. But we shrugged and said sure. That's when Emma leaned forward, her face almost invisible in the dark, and started a story that... Collini, did you know if your age between 25 and 65?

Well, you can get a free HPV cervical check. It's one of the best ways to protect yourself from cervical cancer. know what, I actually checked only recently when mine was due and no exaggeration, it took me less than five minutes. You go online to hsc.com.com slash cervical check in your PPS number, check in the date of birth. And then they tell you when your next appointment is due. Oh my gosh, that's real. And you can check you're on the register on the website so you can phone [phone]. If your test is due today, you can book it today are hscc.combe.

There's so much rugby on sports extra from Sky. They've asked me to read the whole lot at the same speed I usually use for the legal bit at the end. Here goes. This winter sports extra is jam-packed with rugby. For the first time we've got every Champions Cup match exclusively live, plus action from the URC, the Challenge Cup, and much more. Thus the URC and all the best European rugby all in the same place. Get more exclusively live tournaments than ever before on Sports Extra.

Jam-packed with rugby. Phew, that is a lot of rugby. Get Sports Extra on Sky for 15 euro a month for 12 months. Search Sports Extra. New Sports Extra customers only. Standard Pressing applies after 12 months, further terms apply. Didn't sound like a story at all. Chapter 4. The Tale Emma Shouldn't Have Known.

She began quietly. My aunt told me this, she said. She was a camp counselor once. Girl Scouts. A long time ago. My ears perked up. Real stories always hit harder. Emma went on.

One morning, her aunt was walking to the showers after an overnight campout. She spotted a sleeping bag on the train. At first she thought the girls were playing a prank. But when she got closer, she realized there was a girl inside. A girl who wasn't moving. Her face was pale. Her eyes were open. She was dead. Emma's voice didn't waver.

She told it like she was reporting the weather. I felt my skin crawl. But it didn't stop. But it didn't stop there. Because when her aunt looked around, she found two more sleeping bags, crumpled like trash. Inside each one was another girl. Three girls in total. Three lifeless faces staring up from the forest floor.

My breath caught. Leah's smirk faded. Were they murdered, she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Emma nodded. Strangled. Beaten. My aunt said one of them had a red flashlight with tape over the lens, like the killer didn't want to be seen. In their tent, they found a bloody shoe print.

And a handprint too big to belong to any of the girls. I pulled my blanket tighter. Wait, your aunt really saw that. I asked, desperate for Emma to laugh and admit she'd made it up. But she didn't. She just shrugged. She told my mom she still dreams about them. Their faces.

The camp closed after that. And they never caught the guy. Chapter 5. Sleepless in the living room. Lea tried to laugh it off. Tried. But I could see the fear in her eyes. The stories we usually told were about haunted bathrooms or bloody Mary in the mirror.

Dumb stuff. fun stuff this this was too real we eventually forced the conversation back to safer territory boys music which spice girl we wanted to be but the atmosphere never fully recovered every time the wind rattled the window

I thought about those sleeping bags every time the fridge hummed I thought it was footsteps that night I barely slept Chapter 6, the thread that connects it all Years later, when I stumbled across that body at Camp Linux, Emma's story came rushing back. Different place, different details, but the same darkness. The same truth adults try to shield you from, that terrible things happen, and sometimes

there are no answers. Both memories live side by side in my brain. The forest silence of 2021. The Whispered Story of 1999 And me, stuck in between, trying to make sense of how innocent slips away long before you're ready. Chapter 7. Back at School When camp ended and school started again, I thought I could bury the memories under homework and sports. But it didn't work like that.

Every time someone mentioned summer, my brain didn't go to lakes or games. It went to that oak tree. To that slumped body. At first, I kept it to myself. My friends at school talked about vacations, road trips, and who got their learners' permit. I couldn't exactly jump in and say, oh yeah, I found a corpse in the woods, how was your summer? But keeping it inside didn't make it go away. It made it worse.

I'd zone out in class and suddenly smell that sour stench again. or I'd hear a squeak of sneakers in the hallway and mistake it for the crunch of leaves underfoot. That's when I realized, the body wasn't just in the woods anymore. It was in my head. Chapter 8, Dreams That Wouldn't Quit The Nightmares Came Next In One, I was back in the woods with On the many days of Christmas the Guinness Storehouse brings to thee, a visit filled with festivity.

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When I spun around, no one was there, until the man's gray face filled the whole frame of my dream, eyes open, mouth twisted. In another dream, I was the one slunked against the tree. I'd wake up gasping, my chest tight, convinced I'd stopped breathing for real. Sleepovers at friends' houses didn't help. Normal kids could laugh about ghosts and horror movies. I couldn't. Fake scares weren't fun anymore when you'd already seen the real thing. Chapter 9, Emma's story haunts me.

The thing that really stuck with me, though, wasn't just the man in the woods. It was Emma's story from years earlier, the three girls in the sleeping bags. At 13, it was just a campfire tale to me. Creepy, sure, but distant. Now, as I got older, it hit differently. Her aunt had seen those kids with her own eyes. She'd carried that memory for life. And suddenly, I realized I was living the same thing.

I was going to be the one decades from now, telling some teenager about the body in the woods. passing down my own horror story whether I wanted to or not. The parallel terrified me. It made me feel trapped, like I'd inherited something I never asked for. Chapter 10, Searching for the Truth By the time I was 16, I couldn't stand not knowing anymore. So I did what any restless teenager with Wi-Fi would do, I started searching. I typed in every combination of words I could think of, Body Found Beckett, Massachusetts

2021 Camp Linux Incident, Suicide Near Summer Camp. The results were thin. A couple of local news blurbs. A police statement that foul play wasn't suspected. That was it. No name. No obituary I could connect. No follow-up.

It was like the man had been erased. That unsettled me more than the discovery itself. People don't just vanish like that. Even in death, there should have been a trail, a family, a history, something. But for him, nothing. And that silence left space for my brain to invent possibilities. Maybe it wasn't suicide. Maybe someone didn't want the truth out.

Maybe the cops closed it quick because they didn't want parents pulling their kids from camp. Conspiracies. Maybe. But when your only answers are vague half-truths, your mind fills in the rest. Chapter 11, Talking with Sam again. Two years after that summer, I ran into Sam at the mall. We hadn't talked much since camp, but when we locked eyes, it was like we both knew what the conversation would be about.

Over greasy food court pizza, we finally let it out. Do you still think about it? Sam asked. Every day, I admitted. He nodded slowly. Me too. Sometimes I think about how we weren't supposed to find him. Like maybe if we'd walked a little left instead of right,

someone else would have found him later. Or no one at all. I felt a shiver crawl up my arms. I'd thought the same thing. The randomness of it. The way one decision, one stupid step into the woods, changed everything we knew about camp, about life. Before we left, Sam leaned closer and whispered, you ever wonder if he wanted to be found?

Like, if that's why he was out there. Not just to die. But to be seen. That question has never left me. Chapter 12, four years later. Now I'm 19. It's been four years since Camp Lennox, 24 since that sleepover at Laos. And both memories still sit on my chest like stones I can't shake off. When I smell damp leaves, I think of the forest silence before we saw the man.

When I see a rolled-up sleeping bag, I think of Emma's story and those girls her aunt couldn't save. I don't go camping anymore. I don't even like walking through parks alone. The woods used to feel alive to me, full of mystery. Now they feel like they're keeping secrets I don't want to uncover. But here's the thing, telling the story, writing it down, even like this, is the only way I know how to deal with it. Maybe if I share it, the weight spreads out a little. Maybe if someone else carries the image in their head, I don't have to carry it alone.

And maybe that's why Emma told us her aunt's story all those years ago. Not to scare us. But because she didn't want to be the only one holding those faces in her memory. So here I am, passing it on. My own ghost story. My own truth.

Because like my dad always said, life isn't a fairy tale. There aren't always happy endings. Sometimes there aren't endings at all, just memories that stay with you, growing older as you do. To be continued.