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73 CAMP FEAR BLOOD
73 CAMP FEAR BLOOD
73 CAMP FEAR BLOOD
Dedicated and influenced to the Fear Street books by R. L. Stine
Camp Fier was once a beautiful, twilight for young people to come and enjoy themselves and have fun. But not anymore. Now its legend of campfire stories. The only ones to know of the true horror that transpired there are the victims. These days Its rightfully named Camp Fear Blood. Now, there's a darkness at its core that draws out the blackness of the ordinary heart. There's a quiet that forces a man's thoughts in upon themselves where they become ingrown and painful. There's an evil that flourishes like weeds along the byways of the wildness and taints the vulnerable in spirit. Their was also the disappearance of an old Indian book who use to lay claim to the lands. The book was a supposedly compendium of folk wisdom shared by the Indian elders. Some say its a book that holds the magic of darkness. How else to explain the carnage that occurred there? During the time of three successive full moons--the only circumstances under which a blood seeding could take place. The first murder at Camp Fear Blood, occurred when a city kid named had snuck out for the woods. On a nature hike. That would prove to be the last one he would ever take. It was easy to hush up tragedies in the woods, and the local coroner was paid handsomely by the owners of the camp, to keep the autopsy results of the young kid to themselves. So very few had ever heard about the discovery of the boy's headless body. So the Summer festivities at the camp continued. The next unexplained murder happened at the lake. A group of kids snuck out of their cabins at night and went to the lake for some moonlight skinny dipping. It was a cloudless night and the full moon gave the lake's surface the look of a silvery sheet of ice. They kids each to turns getting naked so that each could watch the other and laugh and point their fingers. The kids swam out to the middle of the lake. They all took turns to see who could stay under the water the longest. When one of the kids didn't come back up after a few minutes, they began to worry. The kid was known as a prankster. But, if something had gone wrong, they would never be able to find him in the murky nighttime waters. They began calling his name when suddenly, he finally surfaces. His body shot up as though it had been hurled from the deep depths below, then smacked back down with a loud splash. The kids realized something was wrong when their friend failed to respond to their laughs and calls. Swimming toward him, they saw him lazily bobbing facedown in the water. A turbulence in the lake heaved an unexpected wave up and the terrified boys saw the cause of his floating. There was nothing left of him from the shoulders up. His fate was officially attributed to "death by misadventure." Shortly afterward, stories of Camp Fear Blood began making the rounds of campfires everywhere. From then on campers who heard the stories keep together in groups, and no one wanted to be alone in the woods, or especially go wandering from the camp at night. Knowing an evil was lurking around there somewhere. Waiting, and watching. It was during a campfire that another mysterious murder occurred. While the head- counselor narrated the creepy legend of Camp Fear Blood to the wide-eyed campers sitting around the fire, while members of the camp staff snuck secretly into the woods, where they were to provide scary noises that would add to the nighttime atmosphere. But one of them had another thing on his mind that night. He had made special plans with a girl for a little kinky fun, at a nearby cabin. He knew the other camp rangers would be occupied with the kids so he wouldn't be missed. Steve found the door to the hut unlocked when he reached it. It was pitch dark inside but he could just make out a person's shadow. Figuring it to be his woman, he latched the door shut behind him. He quickly got undressed in the dark. Before he could say a word, he heard a scurrying sound outside the window and a loud thump against the wall. He froze in place. A walk of crude wood planks circled the perimeter of the cabin and he made out the slow tread of heavy boots moving around it. Shushing his girl so that she wouldn't make a noise, he crouched low to the floor and tried to match the footsteps outside tread for tread. He made it to the girl's side of the cabin and managed to grab her hand, squeezing it in silent assurance. The latch jiggled sharply
He held his breath as he heard something large and metallic clank on the rock doorstep.
He waited a little bit, until he heard nothing else. Then, he took her hand and tiptoed stealthily to the door. Feeling a little excited and boyish, he felt his penis suddenly become erected knowing what pleasures his girl will give to him soon. Looking back over his shoulder as he opened the door, he was puzzled to see his girl's blouse still visible against the far wall. Then the door swung open to let the moonlight in--and he saw that the hand he held was no longer attached to his girl's body. An autopsy would determine later that she had tried to protect herself, and that it had been chopped off by the same savage blow that had removed her head. And for the guy, he was found stumbling through the dark woods onto a road where a young woman had happened to just driven by and saw the young man who was naked and was bleeding from his crouch. She stared in horror as she saw that he had his penis chopped off, much like the fate of his girlfriend. He later bled to death before doctors could save him. The only evidence of the murders were footprints in the dust surrounding one of the cabins. Some say that the killer is an enraged girl who was in those woods by a group of men, and she was acting out her vengeance on young men who happen to venture into those woods. But we will never know, will we? . . . . As inspired from the movies Grave Vengeance, and I Spit On Your Grave.