I actually began to write this back when the bizarre trend involving camping adventure games on Roblox started back in spring of 2019. To be honest, that game was really cool and had a story and a monster that kept you on your toes. There were countless games inspired by Camping that rarely showed the same amount of quality, but many people played them, nevertheless.
Alright-y, here's my fourth and hopefully final publication for today. Because I have nothing better to do.
Chapter One—Into the Woods
It was a sunny Friday at 4:00 PM, and Mr. George Washington was scrambling to find the picnic basket that which held the food for his scout group. His scout group, ranging from ages ten to twelve, curiously waited behind him, eagerly ready to ride the truck that would take them to their camping site.
Washington was preparing his scouts to camp. He had packed four tents, a medical aid kit, bandages, bug spray, fishing poles, flashlights for each person, a s'mores making kit, and the picnic basket, but he couldn't find it. He had also packed a rifle for defense against murderous beasts (but he didn't tell any of the campers). Washington was a stern man in his forties, bald, and often acted more like a war general than the leader of a group of scouts, though he was very fatherly and sensitive towards children, hence he chose to take these acquainted children on a nice camping trip.
"Has anyone seen the picnic basket?" Washington interrogated, peeking under the hayride-style vehicle they were to ride all the way to the woods to camp.
"Pegs, give it to him," Washington heard one of the girls on the vehicle whisper.
"Shh! He'll hear you—"
"I'm afraid I already have," Washington laughed, snatching the picnic basket from Peggy, a dark skinned girl in a bright yellow dress. "Thank you, Peggy. If your sneaky antics should stop, we would be on our way to the woods already."
Peggy giggled to herself. She was somewhat of a happy-go-lucky joker, always ready to make others laugh and put others at their misfortunes for her own entertainment. Her main prank victims were her sisters.
Unlike her youngest sister, Angelica, who was also dark skinned, but had a light pink dress, was very serious. She was a girl of her word, and was the ring leader of the Schuyler sisters. As sassy as she was, she was always there to defend her sisters, especially Peggy, who was the butt of some other jokes the scouts made.
Eliza, the last Schuyler sister, was very different from her sisters. She was pale and had very dark brown hair, with a kind-hearted innocence about her that made the other scouts fall under her spell. Her two sisters found her somewhat gullible, though, because she was always becoming infatuated with random boys she met, and not to mention her very trusting nature.
"Mr. Washington, we have to go now! We're going to miss our camping trip, and it will get dark before we even get to set the tents up!" The boy shouting intense demands was Alexander Hamilton, the preteen who was closest to Washington. He was incredibly clever, outgoing, with his dark hair tied back half the time. His friends frequently advised him to slow down or set down his pencil every once in a while; luckily, the camping trip was the perfect way for him to take a break from writing time-consuming essays for school.
Alexander had three friends: John Laurens, Lafayette, and Hercules Mulligan. John, like Peggy, was the subject of a lot of jokes, since everyone assumed he had an infatuation with Alexander. Time and time again he tried to suppress the jokes, only for the others to sarcastically agree with him. What made him bubble with rage was that he confessed that he internally gushed over one of the female scouts in the group, and that he only saw Alexander as a close friend. He never named his crush.
Lafayette was referred to as Lancelot at times, which was a title that very well suited him. He absolutely was not afraid to take risks and wrestle with his friends, who assumed he had originated from France. The French scout had asked Mr. Washington to bring his father's Samurai blade on the camping trip, but unfortunately, Washington discarded, much to Lafayette's chagrin.
The last close friend of Alexander's was Hercules. Hercules was the "tough on the outside, sensitive on the inside" kind of person. He was not as talkative as the other three boys were, but had not ever been left out of any group activities.
After Mr. Washington placed the picnic basket atop the vehicle with the other camping necessities, he paced in front of his scouts. "Alright, time to review some rules," he said sharply, and the campers went silent. They saw Washington as someone to never be reckoned with, and to be revered with great respect. "Real camping is a very dangerous thing. At all times, stay within the designated camping area. Do not touch any poison ivy. As we all know, 'leaves of three, beware of me'. Don't touch the three-leaved plants. And please, for goodness' sake, do not eat any berries you find in the woods at all, and do not dare each other to consume them. Keep watch of bears, don't touch animals unless I say you can. The use of my binoculars is allowed, and you all have free access to the ten boxes of juice pouches I have bought. Does everyone understand?"
Everyone nodded reverently. Washington smiled, though his smile was usually nothing more than a curl of the lips. He climbed into one of the seats of the hayride vehicle, beckoning the driver to accelerate.
As the vehicle started to move, almost all of the campers started to sing a simple tune they had made up themselves when they were much younger:
We're off to go to the woods
Today, we're going camping,
We're off to go to the woods
Where the bears will be a'trampling...
Washington sighed and lowered his head. The tune was innocent enough, but he had great concerns with the 'bears' portion of it. The way the campers sang it sounded as if they were glad to go and face dangerous bears in the wilderness. Well, they were children, what was the harm?
The only scouts who were not singing were two boys named Aaron Burr and James Madison. They were the quietest among the group. However, what separated them was that James had a friend to go to, and Aaron did not. Aaron knew Alexander and his clique of crude boys, but he was mostly by himself. James, on the other hand, was a faithful follower of his notorious friend Thomas Jefferson, a boy with wild dark hair and elegant clothing choice. His outfits were not practical; he'd packed velvet magenta coats instead of shorts and loose t-shirts like the other boys. Thomas hated Alexander with a burning passion, due to the fact that their beliefs could not be more opposite from each other.
Aaron had no particular close friends, so he decided to have a pleasant chat with another rather quiet girl named Maria Reynolds as soon as the song was done. She had the same dark skin tone as he did, curly brown hair, a devil-red dress and was the only girl everyone seemed to know who wore lipstick. (Well, she was only about ten, so it made sense that not many others her age wore makeup.)
One of the kids not well-received by Washington, or his fellow campers, for that matter, was Charles Lee. He was like that one student who always landed in trouble for starting a racket or being, well, troublesome. Charles was rambunctious and kind of destructive in his reckless actions, but his intentions were good and had a reputation for witty remarks and juicy gossip to share. Aaron Burr and Eliza were the only two who felt sympathy for him.
Each camper had his/her own personality to bring to the table, one of the reasons Washington held them close to his heart. He wanted to see how they'd behave in a camping scenario, how they'd get along by sleeping in the same areas, how they'd cooperate as comrades in a dangerous setting. As much as he hated to admit it, Washington had the same childish excitement his scouts were harnessing inside themselves.
The vehicle had started at a small brick building at the edge of a city (the building where the scouts met once a week) and there was about a two hundred yard long field between the city and a forest of oak and evergreens nearby. That forest wasn't the place where they were camping, as it was not deep enough. The real place they were camping was the forest along the same road as the first, one much more legendary, much more infamous for events that had occurred in the past. But there was a nice clearing in the middle of it to have picnics, so there were ups and downs.
The forest was known as the Albany Woods—or, the more common name—the George Phantom Woods. The more common name came from two things. The first was the rich prince named George that was known to live in a mansion by the woods. And the second was not as widely discussed, for the name had a very dark past behind it. Some people had reportedly seen strange phantom illusions and dark silhouettes appear out of nowhere, especially at night.
Washington, being a very practical man, discarded all of this. He just wanted for his campers to have a fun, safe camping trip without anyone hiding in the tents in fear of horrifying monsters. The average age of the scouts was eleven years, so there was a 50/50 chance that they'd think the legends a load of rubbish, or they'd believe the tales and cower in their tents.
The campers had it all planned out—first things first, they'd all help to set up the campsite, which was planned to last until around 5:30 in the afternoon. After that, Washington had said that they'd get the true experience of camping, taking photos of the wildlife that inhabited the woods and discovering rivers and rare plants. This was intended to go on until the sun went down. Then, the campers would all find dry logs, place them around the fire, and tell scary stories over roasted marshmallows for some sticky s'mores and juice pouches.
Of course, this would all funnel into the hardest part of camping—sleeping in a tent with other people.
All the campers had already divided who was going into which tent. Washington received his own private tent, since he was an adult. Alexander and his three close friends would sleep in one tent, while the other four boys would sleep in another. And of course, the four girls would sleep in the last tent. The three groups each had one leader—Alex, of course, was the leader of his, Thomas of his group, and Angelica of her group.
The ride through the forest was very pleasant and quiet after the song. The only ones having a serious conversation were the Schuyler sisters, but even they were being relatively quiet in their speech. Alexander and Lafayette, the two most "loudmouth" campers, were also having a quiet time together. They occasionally pointed out bits of beautiful scenery to each other, leaning their heads in their palms in astonishment.
Riding through the first set of trees was simple enough. The road just outside that forest was straight and ran through a secluded part of the state, where few trees stood and the grass grew wildly. Soon, the secluded fields transitioned into more and more trees, until the vehicle reached the edge of a forest.
Everyone fell silent.
Even the vehicle slowed down as it neared the forest. The trees were the breed of evergreen, and somehow, that kind of tree set an unsettling feeling upon the campers. But Washington held his head high, and gestured for the driver to proceed.
The vehicle seemed to drag on the dirt path. Nobody spoke. The only sounds running were the sounds of crows and bluebirds performing mating calls. All of the campers were feeling unsettled. Only Mr. Washington seemed to be keeping a straight face through the passage of evergreens.
"Sir," Alexander finally spoke, "I am not feeling too certain about this trip anymore . . . Look at our fellow scouts!"
John was already halfway into Lafayette's lap, James clung onto Thomas, the Schuyler sisters were tightly in each other's arms. Even Maria was leaning on Aaron's shoulder to console herself.
"The Albany Woods are nothing to be afraid of if you're prepared," George Washington said as firmly as a general. "Listen, the forest is nothing terrifying. The closest you'll get to a horror show is the darkness that falls over the night."
The campers' shoulders relaxed a little. To pacify his scouts, Washington took one of the bags of giant marshmallows and gave one to each scout. A few moments later, the dirt road came to an end at a tiny clearing where the trees circled around one area. The vehicle came to a sudden halt, and when it was safe, Washington jumped off first.
"Welcome . . . Welcome, to Albany Woods," he introduced, holding up his hand as if the woods were a place they'd never seen in their lives.
Hesitantly, the children dismounted the vehicle one by one, some clinging to their friends in minor fear. Even though it was not even five o' clock, the woods were already somewhat dark, but other than that, they seemed perfectly normal. Nearby was a pond of fresh water, frogs hopping gleefully through the wood, and there was also a distant wooden shack way outside the clearing. Two stone pillars stood tall about thirty feet away from the shack, and there was also a trite well close to a cave in a wall of stone.
"Listen up, campers," Washington ordered, as the scouts assembled into a line. "If the tents break, we will take shelter in that cave over there." Even though the cave was far away, Washington could still point to where it was and the campers understood. "If we are in trouble, we will create a giant bonfire to be rescued. I hope you were all paying attention in our lesson on how to build a fire on your first days of being part of the scout club." Each child had learned to build a fire at least a week within his or her time of being in the group. "Am I clear?"
"Mr. Washington, we are not stupid. Well, at least, I'm not," Alexander said with no repentance. "You could not be clearer, sir."
"Good, I suppose. Now, it's best we set up the campsite before we do anything, especially before it gets dark."
"Yes, Sir!" Alexander had some filial respect for Washington, almost as if he was his real father. It almost seemed that way most of the time. For now, he lived with a street trader mentor.
Mr. Washington unloaded the camping supplies and organized them into different categories: the tents, the hand-held items, and the food. He reassured the campers that if they ran out of food, he'd head up to the facility located just at an edge of the woods. He kept five hundred dollars in money in a wallet he had, plenty of it to buy enough food for everyone.
"Now, who are my group leaders?"
Alex, Angelica, and Thomas stepped forward. Thomas flashed Alex a nasty glare, and Thomas did as well, before Angelica broke between them and subdued their nonverbal argument.
"I'm going to need you to collect wood for the campfire tonight," Washington said. "Don't forget logs to sit on when we make s'mores tonight. Everyone else, we'll set up the tents."
Washington sent the three group leaders off to collect sticks. His condition was that they needed to be dry and no more than eighteen inches at length, and no more than three inches at width. Understanding the rules perfectly, the three group leaders went off on their own, into the woods, with ropes to bind the sticks together.
As they walked together in silence, the two boys kept a safe distance from Angelica. They knew her to be the scariest girl in the scout club, mostly because she'd tell anyone off if they bothered her sisters or friends. But when they reached a decent distance from the main campsite, Alex beckoned the other two leaders to stop.
"We should split up," he said. "We can find more wood in less amount of time."
Thomas and Angelica, who showed slight signs of fear in their eyes, nodded abruptly.
They went in three different directions; Alex headed toward the wooden shack, Angelica headed in the direction of the trite well, and Thomas went where there were no particularly notable landmarks except for the pond. They were very careful to not spread out too far from the campsite, as it was a high possibility they could get lost.
At least it was day. If it were night, and they had no flashlights, they'd be doomed.
Angelica, though, could have sworn she saw a strange black shadow pop out of the well for a split second and disappear.
It had taken approximately fifteen minutes for the three group leaders to find enough sticks to bundle together. They rushed back to the main campsite, all arriving at the same time, and dumped their findings into an established stone pit for the campfire. There, the fourth tent was being set up by James and Aaron, and the other three were already very stable. John and Eliza were chatting and laughing on a log that was just outside the designated camping area, Peggy was telling jokes to an extremely red Lafayette, and Hercules was randomly butting into John and Eliza's conversation with the exclamation "Hercules Mulligan!" Maria seemed to just be sitting by herself in a lounge chair by her assigned tent, and so was Charles.
"Lafayette?" Peggy blurted, watching Lafayette's attempts to suppress his uncontrollable laughter. "More like Laugh-ayette!"
Lafayette snorted and fell to the ground.
"Excellent work, you three," Washington praised the leaders, patting Alexander's back. "We'll have enough wood to last us a few days at minimum. Now, I have some activities planned, and we do not have much time to do them. The sun will go down in a little while. Attention, scouts!"
The scouts all turned to Washington. Even Lafayette managed to subdue his laughter.
"Listen, now. I've planned for us to catch-and-release minnows with nets and take a short hike today, and we should return to the campsite by the golden hour."
Everyone nodded in understanding. The last food items were organized into a pile by one of the tents, and then, once everyone was situated, they went on their way. (Thomas reluctantly put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.)
The group hiked through the woods, each wearing a backpack, all the while observing and taking pictures of wild animals they saw. Squirrels chittered noisily, birds chirped from above the forest canopy. The campers carefully observed the little plants in the undergrowth as to not accidentally come into contact with poison ivy, and Washington warned his scouts of the red, prickly berries sprouting from the ground.
They stopped when they reached a small, ten-foot-wide river near some evergreen trees and deer territory. The campers set down their backpacks and pulled out long fishing poles—at least, about half of them did. The four girls, especially Eliza (who was against hunting but ate meat just fine) were not interested in fishing, and Thomas just sat by the river's bank, staring into the water.
The fishing stop was decently timed, only lasting about thirty minutes. Alexander had gone slightly overboard with his ambition and caught a large catfish that was rolling down the stream. He managed to catch the most and biggest fish of his group.
After fishing, Washington led the campers down on another hike. It was easy enough—aside from the fact that three of the campers, Lafayette, James and Maria, said to have been pinched roughly on the shoulders when no one was there, and anyone behind them simply claimed they knew nothing of trying to harm the person in front in any way. Washington took it as a prank and brushed the odd thing off.
By the time the campers arrived back at their campsite, the sun was already going down. The young children took their spots on the logs, and Washington went to work making the fire. The task was easy enough, as all it required were two sticks and the ability to breathe oxygen.
"So, who will get the s'mores for me?" Washington smiled, leaning back in the chair he'd brought for himself.
Alexander was way ahead of him, as he pulled out two bags of marshmallows, ten packs of graham crackers, and twenty chocolate bars from behind his log. "I've got them, sir!" he said, pleased with himself.
"Very good," Washington said in awe. Alexander had absolutely no hesitation with anything, especially when it came to taking orders from him like a true devoted soldier to a commander.
Every child took turns grabbing two graham cracker squares, one giant marshmallow, and a piece of a chocolate bar, then roasting the marshmallow over the fire. The Schuyler girls warned Lafayette not to just recklessly stab his marshmallow straight into the fire—but Lafayette, being Lafayette, did it anyway, and his marshmallow turned crisp black—not that he was complaining.
"You are missing out on the dèlice of a true roasted marshmallow, mes amies," Lafayette beamed, his French accent shining through as he stuffed his marshmallow between two graham cracker squares.
Peggy and Angelica laughed, as they found Lafayette's French charm quite appealing. Unlike her sisters, Eliza had not seen what made French a more charming culture than the others. In fact, the Spanish seemed rather lovely and beautiful to her, maybe even more so than France.
But she had always just clicked with Alexander. She had no idea what it was, but those two campers seemed to have a spark waiting to become a fully fledged fire. Perhaps it was his will to take risks, or his genius mind, or his overall just handsome personality.
The campers sang special campfire songs. Before Alex's group ate their s'mores, they held them up into the air simultaneously and blurted, "To the Revolution!" It made no sense because there really wasn't a revolution going on, but it didn't have to. Meanwhile, the Schuyler sisters hummed a song they had made up for themselves with Peggy pouting to herself that she was always left with just "and Peggy", even though she had once told off invaders of her home and managed to make them leave. And not to mention that she had once saved an infant from a hospital fire, even though she had broken her wrist.
When the moon and stars had their time to fully shine, everyone went quiet, prepare to hear scary ghost stories. John and James were clutching their closest friends in fear, as Alex and Thomas had been rivaling before they left for the woods over who'd tell the more impressive story. All they really had to do was watch and see how many of the other campers were impressed with or scared of the story.
They had settled on the agreement that Alex would tell the first story.
"So once," he began, standing up and letting the red fire cast an eerie shadow of him onto a tent, "there were twelve campers in a forest. But little did they know, there was a castle with a psychotic prince ruling it. One day, he looked over his marble balcony, thinking that these innocent little scouts would be perfect prey for his army. He decided he loved them and made figurines out of each and every one of them. Creepy, I know . . . Then he sent a fully armed battalion to remind them of his love. DA DA DA!"
Everyone snickered and snorted. "That wasn't scary, that was funny!" Hercules sighed, wiping a tear of laughter.
"Oh, and the WiFi went out and everyone died, the end," Alex finished, suppressing a snicker.
"Well, he was just building the excitement up in you, for I have a much darker tale to bear," Thomas said somewhat darkly, standing up. The fire cast a shadow of him onto the tent behind him.
He cleared his throat. "Camping, as we all know, is a fun activity for flawless fun with friends and family, we all know that and it is not a secret. But scary stories are not just told for nothing. The first scary stories were meant to be warnings, all the while entertaining the other campers. Warnings against the monsters featured in them. But there is one tale that has not been told in over a decade. It's called, the Legend of the Shadow Murderer."
Everyone, even Washington, leaned closer, the anticipation killing them.
"The Shadow Murderer was once a regular man, like you and me. A fine man, at best. But one day he went insane, fled to the woods, and spied on an innocent family of two parents, a boy, and a girl, who were camping there. He would pinch them when they weren't looking, steal supplies they left at the camp, and lurked in the bushes, awaiting their passage. Finally, he murdered every single family member except the little boy, who escaped but died in the forest due to starvation. Then the insane man killed himself, and legend says that he roams here as an evil spirit, in these woods, searching for more people to attack."
John, James, Peggy, and even Aaron were squeezing the nearest person as tight as they could.
Everyone was frozen in place—not completely scared, just frozen. They were utterly shocked at how such a terrifying and dark story could come from Thomas.
Alex stuttered and shook. "I suppose you win the bet," he mumbled, slipping ten dollars out of his pocket and giving them to Thomas.
"Thank you," Thomas smirked, before slowly plopping down on his log next to James and Charles. James latched onto him immediately, Peggy burrowed her forehead into Angelica's side, John fell halfway into Alex's lap and Aaron was trying his best not to look scared.
"I hope you won't act as a scaremonger throughout the whole camping trip," Charles mumbled, tugging on Thomas' shirt.
Washington, somewhat distraught by the story, cleared his throat as a sign to listen. "Anyone else have a scary story?"
Angelica shot up from her log, leaving Peggy to fall over. "Have you wondered how the souls who have resorted to cannibalism are punished?" she began with no pause. "Well, I am now bearing and exposing the tale of the Wendigo . . . The Wendigos are starving evil spirits that roam the forests, seeking human flesh to eat for their insatiable starvation. They are tall, and have deer-like heads, but their eyes are cold and dead, flesh of the lips rotting with blood. The skin around their torsos is pulled so tight that their ribs poke through the rotting flesh.
"Wendigos are the result of human cannibalism, an undesirable form and a demon whose hunger will never be satisfied. He is always hungry, always looking for flesh, and when he does get his flesh, he always wants more. The only way to kill one is to kill the human that is used to be, which remains near its heart. But if the Wendigo cannot find anything to eat, well . . . He dies and rots into a fleshy, bony mess."
All of the campers were taken by surprise. How could Angelica tell such a frightening tale? No one wanted to admit it, but they were all feeling nervous after she finished telling the story.
"That was a . . . Rather interested story," Alex stated, trying not to flinch.
Angelica smiled and relaxed on her log.
"I think it's best that we call it a night," Washington announced.
The children nodded in agreement. They all separated into their tents, an eerie silence settling over the woods.
This won't be an exact replica of Camping. It will have similar elements, but I will try to make it somewhat original. :-)