That evening, they were all sitting out in the courtyard, chatting - well, Aang and Sokka were chatting. Katara, Suki, and Toph were chiming in at intervals, and Zuko was sitting and watching it all in his usual silence. Somehow they got on the subject of scary stories. Sokka jumped up all of a sudden. "We should have a scary story contest!" he cried.
"We tried that already, remember?" Toph snorted. "Yours was terrible, and then we met the creepy waterbender lady and - "
"Yes, we remember, Toph," said Katara quickly, trying to repress the shudder at the mere mention of Hama - and the memory of bloodbending.
"Yeah, but this time we don't have to worry about that - and I have a good one!" Sokka cried, not about to take no for an answer. The rest of the gang looked wary. "Pleeaaase?" he begged.
"I'm in," said Aang with a shrug.
"Oh, I have a good one!" said Suki, her face lighting up.
"Eh, I can give it a shot," Toph grunted, but the wicked smile on her face belied her disinterest.
"Okay…" said Katara hesitantly. They all turned to look at Zuko, who shrugged, as if to say, Go ahead, I'm not going to protest.
"Great! Can one of you light a fire?" Sokka asked, glancing at Zuko and Aang. "They're not real scary stories if we don't have a fire!" Zuko jerked his head at Aang, who took a deep breath, then punched a fist at the small fire pit they had been sitting around, lighting it. "Okay, I'll go first," said Sokka, grinning. Then he sat back. His voice took on a hollow, 'scary' quality.
"In a dark, dark forest, there was a dark, dark grove. And in the dark, dark grove, there was a dark, dark house. And in the dark, dark house, there was a dark, dark hall. And through this dark, dark hall, there were some dark, dark stairs. And up those dark, dark stairs, there was a dark, dark attic. And in the dark, dark attic, there was a dark, dark trunk. And in the dark, dark trunk, there was a dark, dark box. And in that dark, dark box… "
He paused, and they all unconsciously leaned forward, waiting for the end of the sentence. "THERE WAS A PINK JELLYBEAN!" he screamed, then nearly fell over laughing at the looks on everyone's faces.
"Ah-ha-ha-ha, I really had you going there," he crowed, wiping tears from his eyes. All three girls stared at him in utter disgust. Aang was snickering a little. Zuko crossed his arms over his chest, unimpressed.
"How about a real scary story?" said Suki slyly. "This is one the Kyoshi warriors have passed down - it's tradition to tell it whenever we leave the island.
"Once there was an Earth Kingdom village, called Chisana Machi. Now, the people of this village were farmers, and had lived in peace, until recent days. Each night, when the sun went down, the people went to bed, and in the morning, someone would find one of their farm animals dead on the ground, with ten holes in its chest. Ten holes, always in the same place, always the same distance apart. The villagers were frightened, for they did not know what to make of this unseen terror stalking their animals. Many thought it was the work of their rivals in Okina Machi.
"But one day, the villagers awoke to discover a man's body - Lee, the shopkeeper, who had stayed late that night to close his shop - on the ground outside the store with ten holes in his chest. Now they were convinced that they were being hunted by an angry and malevolent spirit, so two sisters, Iku and Aya, determined to stay out that night and catch the spirit. They were both skilled warriors, and they took with them knives and shields, to protect them, should the spirit attack; they said goodbye to their father and grandmother and went and waited for dark - and the spirit to come.
"The sisters, after waiting for some time, decided to split up - they would cover more ground that way, and besides, they could easily call out for help if they needed it. So one went one way, one went the other. Iku went to the shop where the man had been killed - she thought perhaps the spirit would return to the scene of the crime. Aya stayed by the animal pens, thinking that perhaps the spirit would return to savage the animals.
"Iku had just turned to rejoin her sister when a scream rent the air and a dark shape came flying toward her. She had no time to draw her knife, and she cried out for her sister as the creature tried to pierce her chest with its nails.
"Aya came running, her knife out, and with one swipe, she cut the monster's hand off, saving her sister from painful death. The creature fled, and the sisters returned home, exhausted.
"The next morning, they rose and greeted their grandmother, as was their habit every morning.
"Neither of them noticed that their grandmother was missing one hand."
Suki looked around at their wide-eyed faces and laughed. "Do I win?" she asked, jokingly. Toph gave her a grudging nod.
"That was a pretty good one," she acknowledged. Aang was wide-eyed, sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest. Katara shivered. That one had been a bit creepy. And it was now fully dark; the gang had unconsciously tightened their circle as the sun had gone down. She was grateful for the fire.
"I have one," said Katara, surprising herself. A story one of the warriors had told her while she was in the Northern Water Tribe learning waterbending popped into her head, and she grinned, sure it would give the group a scare. "It's called Shēnyín, the wailing woman. I heard it from a Northern Water Tribe man, and it goes like this.
"Once a poor man was married to a beautiful woman who lived in his village. The couple was very much in love, but the man insisted that they were too poor to have any children. When he found out his wife was pregnant, the man was very angry. He told the woman they could not keep the child. After the birth of his son, the man drowned the child in the river. His wife, too weak from giving birth to get up from the bed, pleaded in vain with her husband to spare the life of her child.
"Several more sons were born to the couple, and the man drowned every single one. When the man took his fifth child to the river, his wife followed even though she was still weak and bleeding from giving birth. When he threw the child in the river, the woman went in after her son, determined to save the boy even though she did not know how to swim. The woman and her baby were swept away by the current and they both drowned.
"The very next night, the woman's spirit returned to the river beside her home, wailing and searching for the sons she had lost. At first, the man was terrified by the spirit of his wife. He begged her to return to the spirit world. But she did not hear him.
"Night after night, the woman returned to the river, wailing and wringing her hands in her grief. The man became angry. But he could not stop the ghost of his wife from searching for her sons.
"Finally, the sound of the wailing woman drove the man mad. He grabbed a knife and jumped into the river after the spirit to kill her. But the man did not know how to swim, any more than his wife had. The current swept him away and he drowned.
"From that day to this, the spirit of Shēnyín - the wailing woman - still haunts the waters and lakes of the far north, weeping and wailing and searching for her sons." Katara finished. The gang was silent. Zuko had a dark, brooding look on his face. Finally Toph said, "Eh, that was more of a tragic one. Not creepy enough," she added dismissively. Aang looked at her, wide-eyed, as if to say he disagreed. Katara huffed, annoyed.
"Well, why don't you show us all how to do it, then?" Toph smirked.
"Oh, I will, but I'm saving the best for last. It's Twinkle Toes' turn." They all looked over to Aang, who shook his head.
"I, uh - I don't have any as good as that, so I'll - I'll pass," he grinned, nervous.
"Okay," said Toph, shrugging. "You're up, Sparks."
"Me?" asked Zuko, blinking.
"Yeah!" Sokka chimed in. "You were on a Fire Navy ship, right? Didn't you hear stories there?" Zuko bit his lip, thinking. Then he smiled malevolently.
"Here's one - this is a true story, and I heard it from my uncle, who was the one who got the report."
He then regaled them with the gruesome account of a Fire Navy ship that had gotten stranded on a desert island in Earth Kingdom waters, with several men dying in the crash. They signaled for help each day, the firebenders sending smoke signals, and day after day, the supplies ran lower, and day after day, the firebenders grew more exhausted. Finally the supplies ran out. They had no food for two days. On the third, the captain came up with a awful, dishonorable, practical idea - they would eat the bodies of the dead crew members. The rest of the crew, starving and desperate, agreed, so they exhumed the crew and set to. But they exhausted that source within a few days… so then the firebenders of the crew turned on their mates. By the time another Fire Navy ship saw their signals, there were three firebenders left, out of a crew of thirty-five.
"And the crew of the rescue ship said the three remaining firebenders had tried to eat them, too," Zuko added. "They were sent to a mental asylum on their return to the Fire Nation."
"... And this is why I don't eat meat," said Aang, looking queasy. Katara had to agree with him. Zuko's story had been disgusting. Suki and Sokka were looking slightly nauseous as well.
"Not bad, Sparks," said Toph, admiring. She leaned back with her hands behind her head. "It's not as good as mine, though."
Katara had to admit, Toph was a master storyteller. She had everyone hanging on her every word. And what words they were! Toph spun them a tale of a lonely lighthouse, surrounded by deadly eagle-sharks, way at the edge of a nameless bay, manned by only three men for months at a time. She told them of the empty ship that washed up against the lighthouse one day, releasing its horrible cargo of thousands upon thousands of monstrous sea rats, skittering and crawling after the men, hungry for their blood. She told them of the men's panic, the barricades they erected to keep the rats out, the boarding over of the windows and doors. They didn't even light the lantern of the lighthouse - surely someone would see that something was wrong! But the rats were undeterred. They chewed, and chewed, and chewed, working as madly as they could to get in at the men. For two weeks, all the men could hear was the sound of little teeth, blindly chewing and gnashing against wood. One of them started going out of his mind with fear and the constant noise.
And then the rats chewed their way in. They swarmed the lighthouse, devouring the men's supplies and savaging the man in charge. The one who had been slowly going out of his mind finally lost it, and threw himself down the stairs, into the seething mass of rats. Now his two companions were forced to listen to his screams as well at the hideous noise of the rats. They locked themselves in a room with what little remained of their supplies, and waited. And waited. And waited. The captain succumbed to his injuries - the rat bite had gotten infected, and there was no way of treating it.
Finally, there came a ship to the last man's rescue, with a barge loaded to the brim with meat. The gluttonous rats all abandoned the lighthouse and swarmed the barge. The ship detached from the barge and then sank it with her cannons, providing a hearty feast for the ever-hungry eagle-sharks.
"The last man survived to tell the tale," said Toph, winding down. "But sometimes, he still hears the little chitter-chitter of rats, and the scritch-scratch of their little claws, and the scrape-scrape of their vicious teeth, trying to get in at his door."
There was utter silence. Even the fire seemed muted, having died down to embers long ago. Sokka and Suki were sitting very close together; Sokka had his arm around Suki's shoulders, and they both looked terrified. Aang was curled up in a tight ball on the other side of the fire, biting his lip.
Katara was about to say something along cheerier lines when she felt small claws touch her leg and heard a little rodent-like chitter. She shrieked, thinking instantly of the horrible, flesh-eating sea rats, and grabbed for the nearest person - which happened to be Zuko - reflexively, clutching at his arm. He jumped at her shriek and shoved her behind him, leaping up into a firebending stance. Then his shoulders slumped and he put a hand over his face, mortified.
Toph started laughing. "Gee, Katara, I didn't know Momo was that scary," she taunted. Katara flushed.
"I thought he was a rat!" she protested.
Sokka snickered, conveniently forgetting that he had been just as scared as she was. "Now, Katara, that's just offensive," he said in a lecturing tone.
"And what was that, Sparks?" asked Toph, turning to Zuko. He flushed, running a hand through his hair.
"Force of habit," he mumbled. Toph raised a disbelieving eyebrow but didn't pursue the subject.
"Well, that was fun, guys," said Katara, standing quickly. "But we have a full day ahead of us tomorrow, so we should all get some sleep."
"If you can," laughed Toph from behind her.
A/N: If you were wondering, yes, these are all "real" campfire stories. Sokka's story is an old favorite of my brother's - he found it in one of those "scary story" books for elementary schoolers that all have cop-out endings. Suki's story is a reworked version of one called "10 Holes", which you can find on www. ultimatecampresource . com (without the spaces). Katara's story is an Asian version of "La Llorona", a Spanish folktale, which can be found on the same site as "10 Holes". Zuko's story is based on the true story of a Chilean soccer team that was in a plane crash in the Andes. And Toph's most excellent story is based on one that my siblings would beg my dad to tell us every time we went camping, called "Three Skeleton Key". Look it up. It's rather awesome.