Hey everyone! This is another one of my Fanfics! I decided that if I can't keep my website open, then I would at least make fanfics :) Anyhoo, about the fanfic...I liked horror storys and I like Hey Arnold!, so I decided, hey; why not?! So here's a summary for ya: Helga, Arnold, Phoebe, Gerald, Rhonda and Curly all go on a camping trip between their Junior and Senior year, but there's something freaky about the campgrounds that they can't point out, and one thing leads to another. Please Review! Review, but I don't want any flames. Seriosuly, no ones making you read this. So be nice.
Helga threw the last of the duffel bags into the backseat of the Volsewagon van, adjusted her cap, and hopped into the passenger seat, slamming the door next to her.
"Alrighty then, let's go!" Helga clapped her hands together and clicked on her seat belt. Arnold tuned the radio to a popular rock song.
"So, where's this place again?" Gerald asked from the back seat.
"Towards Oregon; south; that is, about a hundred miles; Deschutes." Arnold told him, keeping his eyes on the road.
"You DID remember to make the reservations; right? They're so hard to get" Phoebe asked, staring at the horizon. Gerald shrugged.
"Arnold did it," he said. Arnold nearly swerved off the road.
"What?!" Arnold's eyes widened as he tried to keep from staring at Gerald with disbelief while still watching the road.
"Relax, me and Helga made them last month, remember?" Rhonda grinned. Arnold sighed with relief while Curly, Gerald, Phoebe and Helga let out a small laugh.
"Well, what campsite number?" Arnold asked. The van grew silent. Arnold scowled. "Helga! What section number of the campsite?" Instead of looking him in the face, Helga kept her eyes on the trees passing by.
"Arnold, just relax and stop acting like a baby," Helga told him. Arnold grew impatient.
"You did it, didn't you?! You got the one by the lake, right? I thought we all agreed on this!!" Arnold frowned.
As Gerald told it; legend had it that campsite by the lake was haunted. Someone was killed there not too long ago, and with Arnold constantly worrying about minor details and being paranoid about such things and supersitions, he banned the even thought of renting that number cabin. "I oughta turned this van around right now..."Arnold mumbled under his breath, still fuming.
"Calm down Arnold. At least we didn't bring any hoo-doo ouija board or anything," Gerald told him. Helga gave out a nervous laugh, but didn't say anything.
"Besides, you don't really believe in that stuff, do you?" Rhonda asked, playing with her manicured fingernails.
"I don't. That stuff is a bunch of make-believe and big pile of bull-" Curly started.
"Okay okay, fine. I'll go, but I still don't like it and I still can't believe you did it anyway, especially after you said you wouldn't..."Arnold scowled at Helga. She turned her face towards the side window so he wouldn't see her laugh.
Arnold eventually shrugged it off and the van became silent with lack of conversation. They rode for about an hour and a half in silence, one of them attempting to start a conversation about the weather, and Rhonda even dared to attempt the subject of politics.
With each of them only answering questions with a "Yes" or "No" or a grunt, they didn't get anywhere in a conversation.
They continued to drive down what looked to be a deserted gravel road.
"Did we miss a turn or something? Because I'm not seeing a campsite..." Arnold drove slower, glancing around for a sign of a campsite.
"Well according to this map..." Curly lowered his eyebrows and eyed the map with such deep concentration it was as if he were eyeing a spanish enquisition. Helga turned her body so she saw Curly, glanced at the map he was clutching tightily in his hands. Her look of question turned into a look of impatience and anger.
"Give me that!" Helga grabbed for the map, but Curly pulled away before she could get her hands on it. "It's upside down, dummy!! It's a no wonder we're lost!" Helga scowled her infamous scowl and reached for the map again.
"You're supposed to follow the key, right here," Phoebe pointed on the map.
"No, look at it this way. You don't know what you're doing man..." Gerald started.
"You're all wasting your time. Let me see that thing. I've read a map hundred of times when I went with my family to Peru last Spring-" Rhonda, too, reached for the map.
You could only guess what happened to a map that wanted to be seen by five different people at the same time. As soon as it tore, there were "I told you so!" and "look what happened!" and "now look what you did!" aimed at each other, until the van was a mob of not so happy campers, yelling.
"STOP!!" Arnold screamed (yes, Arnold IS capable of screaming) at the top of his lungs as he swerved to the side of the road and slammed his breaks.
"Oh great...not another speech about how imature we're being..." Helga muttered. It was then that they realized Arnold had pulled over into the small dirt parking lot of a convenience store. It looked so old and small it fit right into the random dying trees surrounding it. How Arnold had been able to spot it from the road, they'll never know, but they were thankful anyway to find some sort store where they could get direction.
Arnold opened the door, and ran his fingers through his hair out of habit. He took the keys with him.
"Don't kill each other all at once," Arnold told them dryly. The gang saw him walking towards the main door which was a dirty off-white, and could have once been red, since it had old red paint still peeling from it, still running his fingers through his hair.
Helga opened the car door and hopped out, with Phoebe and Gerald right behind her, catching up with Arnold. Arnold walked into the store, not bothering to hold the door open for them, which was not really like him. But they couldn't blame him.
He was not having a grand day.
Helga glanced around the store, impressed. The inside was a palace compared to the outside. They had bright packedges of chips, cookies, and snacks aligned neatly on the shelfs, and although the majority of merchandise and food were off-brands, the store had everything from nail polish remover to marshmellows to first aid kits, despite the stores small size. The only thing that clashed with the stores cleansiness on the inside was the floor.
It hadn't been mopped in months.
There was a man working alone, reading a magazine behind the counter with his back towards Arnold. He was a man in his mid-fifties, Arnold assumed, and was obviously a smoker. His hair was long, almost to his shoulders, greasy and he had an unshaved face. He wore grungy dirty clothes.
Arnold coughed loudly to get his attention while Helga walked through one of the four aisles, in search of a snack, with Phoebe following close behind and Gerald in the magazine section.
When the man kept his eyes on his magazine, refusing to be bothered, Arnold spoke up.
"I, uh...would like to know if you know of any campground around here called-" he started.
The man stuck his arm out to the south of them.
"About a mile and a half up theres an ol' campsite, I reckon," the man grumbled, his eyes still buried in his magazine. Arnold was confused for a second, then decided if the man were wrong and they found nothing, he could always get help from someone else.
Arnold shrugged, then motioned for Helga Phoebe and Gerald towards the door. Helga carried six ice-cream pops in her arms. Deciding not to bother talking with the man, she placed a five dollar bill on the counter, then followed them out the door and into the van.
"What a throw-pillow..." Helga rolled her eyes, refering to the man as she tossed everyone a fudgcicle.
They climbled back into the faded orange vehicle and; relying on the mans directions, headed south. The mood in the van was beginning to ease up and they got more excited with each passing minute as they ate their ice cream and blasted Sugarcult.
Finally they saw it.
It didn't have the name, but it had an arrow on a sign that read "Campground." The gang looked in awe as Arnold drove the van through the long pathway. It was a gravel road and the grass was a dark lovely green, obviously very well taken care of.
There were trees full in bloom, just a shade lighter then the grass with bright red apples poking out every here and there. The trees curved just slightly over the pathway, making it even more picture perfect, and a feel like they were in a tunnel. Arnold grinned. "Cool." Was all he could whisper at the moment.
Finally the pathway ended and turned into a small check-in/out office with three parking spaces in it and another pathway to the left. Arnold turned to the check-in lot.
Helga glanced at her watch. Almost ten o'clock. Perfect.
Arnold parked the van and told them all to wait there. The moment the gang saw him step into the small office, Helga and Curly jumped out of the van to catch up with him.
They entered the small office, only to find no one behind the counter. On the desk, there was a small stack of paper, a cup of pens, a computer from the eighties, a bell to ring for service, and a notepad with illegible handwriting that resembled scribbles. There was also an ashtray with a cigeratte that looked to be just put out. There was a tiny stream of smoke coming from it; barely visible.
Arnold tapped on the bell, ringing it a few times. There was an awkward silence as Helga lowered her eyebrow. Helga reached out for the bell and rung it several times. Still silence.
"What's going on?" Curly put his hands on his hips, becoming impatient. They waited several minutes. Helga decided to check outside. Maybe a maitanance worker was outside, although she didn't recall seeing one earlier. She glanced outside from the door.
Nothing.
Phoebe, Gerald, and Rhonda then met up with them, wondering what was the wait for.
"We don't have all day!" Rhonda moaned.
"Well...maybe we should come back later..." Arnold suggested in a small voice. Helga scowled.
"I came here to camp, and by-God thats exactly what I'm gonna do!" Helga made it sound like a threat as she walked towards the door. The gang glanced at her.
"Where are you going?" Gerald asked.
"To the campsite to pitch the tents!" Helga told them, spinning around.
"We can't just go to the campsite without checking in...." Phoebe told her.
"Well we paid them good money already with a credit card, didn't we? It's not like we haven't. And besides, we can check in later. We can't get held behind in schedule because Mrs. Idiot-behind-the-counter isn't here," Helga told them firmly.
"Arnold, Helga's right man..." Gerald told him, as if they had to confirm everything with him before actually doing it. Everyone murmered in agreement except for Arnold.
"No way. There's no way I'm going to that campsite without checking in or anything. We could get in trouble you know..." Arnold stated, crossing his arms as he planted his feet firmly into the wood floor.
"I can't beleive I came here without checking in," Arnold groaned.
"Hold these things in, will you?" Gerald told Arnold as he pounded the pegs into the ground with a huge rubber hammer.
Helga, Phoebe and Rhonda had finished pitching their tent. Helga stood a few feet into the water of the lake, with the water up to her ankles. She had rolled her pants up with her hands shoved in her pockets, staring at the open space of water.
Arnold and Gerald wiped their grimy hands and walked towards the lake where the girls were standing. Curly was sitting on the grassnear the tide, attempting to create a fire with two sticks. No one told him it wasn't possible with damp sticks.
"Wouldn't that be funny if I pushed Arnoldo into the lake?" Helga laughed.
"Wouldn't that be funny if I picked you up my self and threw you in?" Arnold grinned, striding towards her in the water.
"You wouldn't dare!" Helga laughed, backing up.
"I would!!" Curly suddenly yelled. He picked up a small log and threw it towards helga, missing her by centinmeters. It made it a huge splash, soaking Helga up to her waist.
"You jackass!!" Helga screamed. She rolled up her sleeves, bent over, and spashed Curly with all her might.
"Hey! That's not fair Helga!!" Curly stood up, then reached into the water to pick up a rock, but slipped into the water instead. The gang roared with laughter, but Rhonda squealed, then ran to the shore where she couldn't get wet even if she wanted too. She was wearing a white blouse.
Helga continued laughing, but was then pushed playfully herself by Curly. She fell face first into the water, soaking her entire body. Helga sat up in the water, wiped her hair away from her face with her small hands, and pouted. She glared at Curly.
"Help me up, Arnold!" Helga snapped, still glaring at Curly. Arnold walked over to her, reached out his hand, then felt himself behing yanked down into the water. Everyone laughed, and eventually Gerald had gotten Phoebe into the water. They were all soaked, laughing and screaming, splashing each other and throwing themselves into the water. Everyone except Rhonda, of course.
Eventually everyone calmed down and made their way to the shore. They spread out on the grass, drying themselves in the sun. Arnold stared up into the sky. He folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. He inhaled the scent of the trees and flowing water and the fresh green grass. He smiled to himself.
"This is going to be one of the best two weeks of my life," he thought to himself.
REVIEW!!! How'd you like the opener?! :D
