Writing Prompt: Day 158

Day 158 Writing Prompt PictureDay 158 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write a scary campfire story.

Shannon: Someone once shared with me the story of the house that was hidden away in these woods, and now I’ll share it with you. The family who lived in the house wanted to be as isolated as possible from the rest of the world, because they were hiding away an ugly truth. They were embarrassed by their own daughter’s appearance, and public opinion only fueled their hatred.

She was born with a unique mutation that made her translucent skin cling tightly to her bones. Her nose never fully developed, she had red eyes, and long black hair. The whole town steered clear of her, and other children would run away crying if they caught a glimpse of her. She was a constant reminder of their failure to produce a healthy child.

They tried everything they could to make the world accept her from putting her in a mask, coating her with makeup, and covering as much bare skin with clothes as they could but nothing could change anyone’s mind so they went away, hoping to live in peace.

However, over time the seclusion ate away at her mother, and she start to resent her daughter for all she had taken away from the family. She started demanding more from her child, didn’t go a day without yelling at her, and found every possible reason to enforce cruel punishments. She made her wear the mask again for the whole day and throughout the night, and the girl became a prisoner to her own existence. One night the mask made breathing hard, but she feared the punishment so much she let it suffocate her in her sleep.

It’s believed that her soul roams free in these woods to this day, and she’s not wearing a mask. The sight of her may terrify you as well, but try not scream and upset her. You should also know she envies pretty faces. She has a whole collection and can quickly rip your’s off as you sleep. I’ve been told if you see her when you open your eyes, it’s already too late.

Erin: I remember the first time I ever went camping. There was no way I could forget it really. I was sitting around the campfire with the group. My best friend was sitting next to me completely satisfied with the smore she considered perfect. I preferred a nice charred exterior, but to each there own and that was beside the point. We started to sing a song the counselor had taught us. The lyrics were strange.

“In the glow of the moon, we use our tune to summoned the loon.”

When the final verse left our lips the fire road into a brighter bigger blaze, reaching for the sky. I looked right into the heart of it and saw the face of an exhausted looking man.

“Who is that,” I barely managed to muster as my shaking hand pointed at the fire. When my finger landed on him he flashed a crazed grin, missing two of his teeth.

“Don’t point at him he doesn’t like that,” our counselor warned two late and my friend started crying as the blaze ran out of the fire pit and made a burning path to the woods.

My heart started to race as I saw the face turn into a body and the body separated from the fire. The fire created mass destruction of the campgrounds in a short period, but when the man disappeared into the woods the flames extinguished in seconds.

Our camp counselor explained how the camp used to be a place for psychologically unstable adults to stay for a few weeks and how the loon was the outcast of one of the groups. He continued to haunt the grounds to avenge the experience he had. Unable to recognize that new campers were not the ones from his experience, the innocent newbies faced his little pranks.

Our counselor had been trying to set him free and she believed we did that night. I don’t know if that was the answer to the problem however. Because the cabins were burned and we had to sleep under the stars. Most importantly he was not the only one set free in that campground. My best friend, among others, also disappeared that night.

Classic story time meets your story time, put your own spin on the tradition.

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