Camping: It’s In Tents

“Did you hear that?” He asked softly, staring over the campfire into the dark forest. We were quiet for a moment, listening to wind whistle eerily through the trees.

“Nevermind!” He laughed. “I thought I heard growling. It must have been my imagination- wait, are you leaving?”

I stuffed my sleeping bag into my backpack and grabbed my car keys. “I saw a hotel at the base of the mountain. I am NOT getting eaten  by a sasquatch tonight. Good luck!”


The Visitor

The front door stood slightly ajar, so I gingerly pushed it open with one finger. An ominous pool of dark liquid was illuminated by the full moon. I debated calling out, “Hello?” and following the suspicious trail of footprints that led deeper into my home, but decided to get back in my car, lock the doors, drive to a nearby gas station and call the police.

The Lake House

It was Halloween, and my friends and I were staying at the lake house. It was a towering, ancient monstrosity with dark hallways and unreliable lighting that flickered ominously.

“Let’s have a séance!” one of the girls squealed, waving the Ouija board above her head.

Everyone giggled and agreed enthusiastically as they set the board on the table. The lights were turned out, candles were lit, and the group gathered around the table.

“Are you going to play?” They looked expectantly at me as I lingered near the door. I shook my head, and took another step back.

They placed their hands on the planchette, and the air in the room suddenly felt colder.

“This is a terrible idea.” I muttered, as I gathered my things. “No way. I am out.”