In honor of Halloween and Fall Camping Season, Beartooth Anthony is holding our 5th annual Halloween campfire short story contest.
Up for grabs is an Eno DoubleNest® Hammock, which will be awarded to the author of the most bone-chilling short story.
Stories will be submitted for review by a panel of judges, comprised of teachers and outdoor enthusiasts. Finalists will be chosen, and their stories will be posted along with the winning story.
Results from the 2022 campfire story contest can be found here.
Results from the 2021 campfire story contest can be found here.
Results from the 2020 campfire story contest can be found here.
Results from the 2019 campfire story contest can be found here.
Results from the 2018 campfire story contest can be found here.
Submission Guidelines:
- Story should be appropriate for all ages, no foul language or sexual content please. Inappropriate stories will not be accepted.
- Winner will be decided based on the judges votes.
- The submission deadline is October 15th and the winning story will be posted by October 31st, 2022.
- The prize will be awarded before the end of November.
To submit your short story, please:
- Submit your spooky campfire story using the form below.
- The submission deadline is October 15th, at the stroke of midnight (EST).
- Enjoy reading the stories, posted on Halloween night!
- Have fun, encourage others, love the outdoors, and keep writing!
The Prize:
The winning story will be published on the Beartooth Anthony website. Our website aims to provide information that helps people better enjoy the outdoors.
The winner will receive an Eno DoubleNest® Hammock. This lightweight hammock is heavy duty, portable, and extremely comfortable. Toss it in your pack for your next hike, hang around the campsite, or lounge around your local park. The DoubleNest® is the perfect hammock for outdoor adventures.
“I’m not scared!”
Gillian glared at her twin brother. Most often the two were best buds, but not tonight. Tonight, Jeremy had become the stereotypical pesky brother, set on making Gillian so angry her head might burst…and enjoying every moment of her discomfort.
She didn’t care about that. Tomorrow he’d be Jeremy again.
Halloween was the problem. The stupid holiday turned perfectly ordinary, nice, caring people into human monsters. Too bad Jeremy got pulled into that stupid racket.
Right now, he and his friend Chandler seemed bent on making Gillian believe someone—or something—was trying to get into the house. Why in the world had Mom and Dad thought it was okay to leave the three of them home alone—especially on this night?
Knock, knock, knock!
“Go get it, Gilly!” Jeremy stage-whispered. He and Chandler had dimmed the lights, but it wasn’t dark enough to hide her brother’s evil grin. “It’s just trick-or-treaters…right?”
Gillian grabbed the big bowl of candy Mom had instructed them to pass out to the little witches and warlocks, and not to consume. “Of course it is. Why? Are you scared, brother mine?”
Despite her brave words, she hesitated at the door. Drew a deep breath. Finally, with no other sane alternative, she pulled it open. A blast of cold air whirled around her like an evil spell.
“TRICK OR TREAT!”
She shuddered, not sure whether from the cold or the loud squeals from little costumed terrors. Sheesh, did kids not know how to speak in normal tones anymore? They weren’t exactly Michael Myers, but they might have done some serious damage to her eardrums.
She dropped candy into bags and pillowcases and plastic pumpkins.
“Happy Halloween,” she murmured, then closed the door with a firm click and locked in with unnecessary haste. She shivered again. Something about that last group of masked minions had unnerved her.
With the door firmly locked, Gillian hurried back into the living room—and found it unoccupied.
“Okay, guys, that’s enough. You’re so immature. Where are you?”
No answer. Not a sound, not even a muffled giggle.
Fine. She knew how to ignore people. Not being outgoing like Jeremy, she practiced every day. She’d become quite good at pretending those who ignored her weren’t even around—at school, at the mall…pretty much everywhere she went. If Jeremy came along, it was even worse. Her brother shone. He fit in anywhere, and he was so handsome. Everybody loved Jeremy.
Gillian was under no delusions about her own appearance. She was so plain she’d become invisible. She was not likeable, and didn’t find much to like in others. Except her cats. She loved those two little critters more than any human around—except her Mom and Dad, of course. And Jeremy…usually.
Screeech. Scraaaatch.
Gillian jumped. The horrible, nails-on-blackboard sound came from the window. Startled and momentarily frightened, she froze, her gaze on the dark pane. What was out there?
She grimaced. Had she really wondered “what” instead of “who”? Enough. Time to get a handle on this whole scary Halloween nonsense. Jeremy and Chandler would not get the best of her.
She’d give them one more chance.
“Hey, guys, I found ‘Nightmare on Elm Street’ in Dad’s stack of movies. Want to watch it?”
Nothing. She waited two minutes. Three.
“Jeremy, get your rear in here. You’re supposed to be helping.”
Nothing.
Now she was getting a little nervous, but no way would she let her traitorous brother and his mischievous friend know they were getting to her.
“All right, that’s it. If I don’t see your stupid face in one minute, I’m calling Mom.”
Still nothing.
With a huff, she shoved the DVD into the opening and hit the ‘on’ button on the remote control so hard her thumb vibrated. Maybe the boys would show up when the movie started playing.
They didn’t. Ten minutes passed. No one knocked on the door, which wasn’t surprising. It was getting a little late for kids to be out roaming the streets. More importantly, Jeremy and Chandler were nowhere to be found.
Fine. I’ll watch the movie alone.
After hitting ‘pause,’ she headed for the kitchen to make popcorn. Salt over sugar any day of the week.
Just inside the kitchen door, she stopped cold and bit back a scream.
Oh, God, no! Please, no!
Jeremy and his friend were seated at the table, a plate in front of each of them. The plates held sandwiches and chips. A perfectly normal thing to expect from teen boys. Of course they’d run off to the kitchen to pig out.
But neither boy said a word. Their heads hung at awkward angles, and neither of them looked up when Gillian drew a tortured breath and moved into the room. They couldn’t. Their eyes were sewn shut, with dry streams of blood on their cheeks.
She stared, unable to speak for a long time. Then she swallowed hard and lifted her chin. They’d almost gotten to her. Shoving aside the momentary fright, she strode across the room and grabbed Jeremy’s plate.
“Nice of you to think of me, bro. Ham and cheese with sandwich spread—my favorite. Thanks! I was thinking popcorn, but this actually sounds better.” She started for the door, but turned back. “I’ve started the movie, if you idiots want to watch with me. I don’t think we’re getting any more trick-or-treaters tonight.”
Proud of herself, she crossed the room, grinning.
Just as she stepped out of the kitchen, Jeremy spoke. Another stage whisper…but his voice trembled. “Chandler, h—how did she do that?”
“I don’t know, man.” Chandler’s voice rose an octave. “That was unreal.”
Gillian frowned. What were they talking about? All she’d done was steal a sandwich.
“You saw—I mean, didn’t see her either, right?” Jeremy demanded. “It wasn’t just me?”
“No, man. She wasn’t there. But I sure saw your plate get up, all by itself, and float across the room.”
“Me too. And I’d know my sister’s voice anywhere.” Jeremy went silent, while Gillian stood in the next room, horrified by their conversation. “That was her, but she was completely invisible.”
Invisible!
She’d felt unseen, unnoticed. Sometimes she’d even wondered if it was true…that she could only be seen by her brother and her parents. Had it become real?
Slowly, her gaze lowered to the fingers she’d tensed around the edge of Jeremy’s plate.
The plate seemed to float in mid-air, with nothing to support it. Nor did she see her arms, or her feet and legs. Nothing. Even her clothes had melted into nothingness.
She was invisible. For the first in her life, she wasn’t plain. Now she just wasn’t there.
I’m no one. Nobody…with no body.
This had scratched at the window. This is what entered when she answered the door.
A horrified, bone-chilling, scream wrenched past her throat and split the air. Her voice still worked quite well.
She heard the pounding of clumsy feet when her brother and his friend came running from the kitchen. Jeremy screamed her name. Chandler said nothing, just started bouncing around the living room like a ping pong ball. Why in the world would he look under the sofa cushions? Did the moron think she’d be under there?
Gillian watched the boys search, and with each second that passed, she came to kind of…almost…enjoy their pure, unfeigned horror. They could keep searching if they felt the need to, but they’d never find her.
Gillian picked up the hideous vase Jeremy had given their mother for her birthday. Poor Mom. She tried so hard to pretend she loved it, but Gillian saw the truth in her eyes. She hated the thing. With a little smirk, she let it fall to the floor and shatter.
Both boys rushed across the room to stare at the chunks and slivers of ugly glass on the floor.
“G—Gillian?” Jeremy whispered.
“J—Jeremy?” she replied.
Then she ran up the stairs, laughing aloud.
On the landing, she looked down. Jeremy and Chandler stood below, their wide, horrified eyes gazing upward.
“Now who’s scared?” Gillian spoke just loud enough to be heard.
The terrified, confused expressions on the boys’ faces filled her with a strange joy. She didn’t understand what was happening to her but…she liked it. She liked it a lot.
Now she could ignore people without getting one of Mom’s lectures. Be in a crowd without feeling like the odd girl out. Be alone any time she pleased. “Look in” on people without their knowledge or permission.
Oh, yes. The possibilities were endless for an invisible plain Jane twin.
Karen Coan’s story is really different…and has an interesting and fun twist at the end. Such a great visual — rain-drenched moms marching against the monster to save their children. Yep, this one gets my vote.
October Campfire by: Joseph Atkinson
On a cold October night, seven college students sit around a campfire telling ghost stories. Justin got finished telling his story when Aaron pipes up.
“Okay I got one that none of you probably ever heard of before and the creepy part of this story is it’s actually true.”
“Yea right,” Beth says with the role of her eyes.
“No, it is completely true. It happened forty years ago in a forest not too far away from here.” Aaron replies.
“Come on everybody give him a chance to tell his story. You all told some crazy ones so what would it hurt to hear one more.” Sara says annoyed.
“Thank you, Sara, at least someone is willing to hear me out.”
Everybody except Sara throws a few marshmallows at him.
“As I was saying,” Aaron continues, “It was in a forest not too far from here. Four college students decided to get away from it all for a weekend and went camping at Lake Green Cloud. On the first night, they were fine, having fun and laughing. As soon as darkness fell on the second night all four of them could hear the sounds of brush being moved from the distance. Five minutes pass of continuous noise from brush moving before all goes quiet. The college students think nothing much of it and go back to having fun. An hour later the noise of brush moving returns but this time the noise is closer. Like before in five minutes the noise was gone. Instead of ignoring it again all four of them with flashlights go into the woods to investigate. They end up finding nothing, no tracks, no broken pieces of branches, not a single sign of life. Returning back to camp they find that some of their belongings have gone missing. One of the guys pulls out a pistol from his pack. Nobody says anything about his actions as they feel safer now that they have some protection. All of them sit around the campfire and decide in order to get their minds off of what has been going on they tell ghost stories. Like clockwork the next hour, the sounds of brush moving can be heard along with the sounds of trees falling no further than twenty feet away. Brad stands up and yells into the woods in the direction of the sounds. At that time the noise stops. Everybody is scared except for Brad who is furious. It takes awhile but they become calm and go back to telling stories. An hour later the noises start up again but this time its only about ten feet away. Five minutes later all goes eerily quiet. Out of nowhere, something crashes down on their tents flinging mud on them and putting out the fire. They turn on their flashlights pointing them at the huge object that turns out to be a tree. The college students panic and turn to run away when they run into a tall horrible hairy monster. Their screams echoed off the trees. People have reported from the nearby town hearing screams coming from the woods that night. The day the police go to investigate they only find the campsite destroyed. No trace of the college students other than the camp was ever found. The four of them was never heard from or seen again.”Aaron leans back as he finishes.
“That actually happened?” Pam asks with a shiver.
“Yea, I know some people that know all four of them. It is sad what happened.” Aaron replies.
“In my opinion, I think it’s just a legend,” Nathan says confidently.
Just then the sounds of brush moving come from not too far away.
“Okay, who’s messing around?” Oliver demands.
Everybody shakes their heads. Five minutes pass of constant noise when it stops suddenly. Then from the nights’ air, a monstrous roar echoes off of the trees.
I love this story ! So spooky I vote this one !
Love it, I vote this one
Scary, kept my interest throughout the entire story, Yes. I loved this story. I vote for this one.
A real good story. A good read. I vote for this one.
I loved it, kept my attention. I vote for this story.
I pick this one. I enjoy reading his story. He is a great writer
good story vote for this one
I enjoyed this piece, this story was my favorite. I place my vote for this
Love it I pick this one
I loved this story so much
Love this story! Such a wonderful writer. I vote for this one!
I vote this one
I vote for this short story.
I loved this story it really keep you on your feet
This was a good story I vote for it.
I choose this story to win…thank you for writing it.I
“The Night of the Wretched” gets my vote for best story!
I vote for this one
THE NIGHT OF THE WRETCHED
by Karen S. Coan
Wickety-crickety-crack. Lightning flashed close. Thunder boomed loud. Shivering campers tucked tight for the night. No one, they thought, not even hateful monsters would dare a brave in such dreaded darkness drenching the ground and raining terror all around.
Even the owls lost their hoots.
Even the bears hid their noses.
Even the leaders shivered their fears.
Carefree days of pranking seemed distant as the shadows fell silent. Into the pitch of black. Onto the canvas of tents. Unto the scare of night.
It was then, of course, the remembrance of forgotten crept into guilt pounded deep into the soul of every camper who came on this adventure. Duties and chores should not be left undone. Lest others find lacking of skills needed to move up the pole of bottom-useless to top-command. Other than being at the top, there was no other reason for anyone to be foolish enough to be in these woods, this night.
The night of rain, with the fire drowned worthless.
The night of rain, with the ground rendered useless.
The night of rain, with the critters frightened helpless.
Gulping deep. Trying to muster courage. Drawing on words of wisdom from those more brave. A slow pull of the zipper – tug-tug-tug. A slow move of the feet – squish-squish-squish. A slow open of the tent – zip, zip, zip.
Lightning ripped wicked fast through the drench, and something horrid flashed eerie in the distance.
Was that the man who had escaped from the hospital? The hospital filled with the ruination of wretched lives. Lives cursed by brains with no skin, scarred from treatments with no results, rendered into nothing with no hope. Doomed to live out their lives as tortured and tormented and troubled souls. Was that the man who had escaped from the hospital?
If only there was a light switch, to be sure.
If only there was a lightning flash, to be sure.
If only there was a dry match, to be sure.
As the night creeped to a crawl, shaky hands reached into the pounding chill of rain drenched in darkness … so much darkness … such awful darkness … darkness now confounded by a lantern coming closer, closer, closer … darkness now surrounded in a bound feeling warmer, warmer, warmer … darkness now dissolved by a squeeze growing tighter, tighter, tighter.
Not even a wretched man escaped from a hospital for the criminally insane stood a chance against wet mothers marching in headlamps to the rescue!
Thanks, Karen. Cute ending!
I vote for this story! Cute ending 🙂
I vote this story!
I vote for this one!
Cute cute cute, lol
This gets my vote!
I vote for this one
I vote for this story. Good job! Wanda Polk
I vote for the Night of the Wretched
Great story! I loved the ending!
“The Night of the Wretched” gets my vote for best story!
Terrific! Karen’s story grabbed hold & held me to its great ending.
Great story!! 😀
Loved it!
Love the ending…boo!
Great story, you get my vote!
You have my vote!! Love it
Loved the story!!!! I vote for this one.
I vote for this story!
“The Night of the Wretched” is the best!
I liked “The Night of the Wretched” best.
“The Night of the Wretched” is my fave.
I vote for “The Night of the Wretched” – good one!
Count my vote for Night of the Wretched.
Voting for the story Night of the Wretched … loved it!!
I think I managed to do it wrong on the first try, but here we go… 🙂
Karen Coan’s story, The Night of the Wretched, is really different, and has an interesting and fun twist at the end. Such a great visual — rain-drenched moms marching against the monster to save their children. Yep, this one gets my vote.
Very cute. I like the lyrical way this story is written with the repetitive choruses throughout.
This vote is for Night of the Wretched
I vote for Night of the Wretched.
Loved “The Night of the Wretched” by my friend Karen S Coan … great story with a fun twist at the end!
Hi BearTooth its Madison! I was wondering if it matters what age you are to join this contest? I am 11 years old and I very much want to join!
“The Night of the Wretched” is by far the best!
“The thing you have to know about this forest, in particular, is that it has a memory.”
Something about Randall’s voice always made you perk up, made just a few hairs on the back of your neck take notice. Husky and graveled, each syllable that pushed through his chapped lips made you sit up on edge, made you look back into the darkness.
Just to be sure.
You could tell by looking at him that he was enjoying this moment, drinking in the atmosphere of a sparsely crackling fire that just barely illuminated the ashen faces of each child that sat around it. A wry smile was strewn across his pock-marked face, and as he began his tale he reached back into his pocket for a wispy, hand-rolled cigarette.
“You see, children, every year you hear of more and more people coming into this forest. They bring their ATV’s, their Bluetooth speakers, their gas-powered generators, and they never seem to understand the point of coming to this place. They never really come here for the right reasons, and the forest knows this. The forest can sense them coming as soon as they walk out of their front door. The forest, as you might imagine, doesn’t really like these people.”
Randall drew a deep breath through the cigarette, and the amber burned brightly enough to reveal something in his eyes that I couldn’t quite place.
“It shouldn’t be surprising then, children, that those people tend to fair poorly in this forest. I see it all the time. Couples unprepared for the wilderness give up after a night, hastily rolled up tents propped up under their arms as they tear toward their SUV’s. Groups of young kids that bring coolers full of beer and yell obscenities throughout the night quickly find themselves wishing their mommies were tucking them in and singing them a lullaby. At night, kids, that’s when the real fireworks begin.”
As soon as he spoke that last word, beginnnnn, the moment it left his lips there was a loud CRACK in the darkness behind us. A dead branch breaking off and smashing onto the ground floor.
Maybe.
The children all screamed, their high-pitched shrieking echoing into the night. This only fueled Randall, who seemed to grow in the fading light of the dying fire.
“The forest always remembers. You’d be wise to heed my warning, Bill.”
I could only sit there, mouth agape as the long, gnarled finger of Randall pointed directly at me. Normally we rehearse what my part in the story is going to be, but this time everything felt wrong. We never talked about this. He was supposed to tell a different story. I try to play along at first, acting fake-scared in front of the kids. They can’t sense the bubbling sense of unease that is starting to simmer inside me.
“I don’t mean to alarm you kids, but the forest is angry at Bill.”
CRACK
Another branch was discarded, no longer wanted by its mother. The children screamed again, but with a greater sense of ease. They were eating this up. Randall, in full flight, was truly something to behold when the right night came along. I’d seen it a hundred times. I knew the whole song and dance. So why was I sweating beneath my jacket?
“Bill hasn’t been honest with us, have you Bill?”
As Randall stared directly into my eyes I broke, and the smallest sob escaped from me.
“What does the forest remember, Bill?”
At that moment I heard it. Somewhere in the dark, behind Randall, the faintest sound of someone laughing. No, no laughing. Cackling. Like crows cooing in the black.
“Why is the forest laughing, Bill?”
The children all turned and looked at me in one swift motion. Their necks made this popping sound and their faces were…drained. Empty vessels. I was staring into the abyss.
Whoever was laughing in the forest was approaching, and fast. They were sprinting. The laughing became louder, and in a heartbeat it was suddenly right beside me. I realized Randall had been laughing too, and now his face was right in front of mine. My nose was stung with the acrid smell of tobacco and whiskey.
“The forest always remembers, Bill.”
That’s when a hand clamped down on my shoulder and I screamed, longer and louder than I had in my entire life.
I should have remembered why Alan, the other Scoutmaster, wasn’t with us around the fire. The children all broke out laughing, and as I looked into Randall’s smiling face I realized there was a reason I wasn’t a part of the story. Despite my heart pounding against my chest, I started to laugh as well. I turned around and gave Alan a bear hug. I took a bow as the children all clapped and laughed, and gave a head nod to Randall.
When the fire had died and our tents were zipped up for the night, I stood outside and took in the darkness around me. I was still scared. My heart hadn’t stopped racing ever since Randall had pointed that bony finger towards me. Because for the briefest of moments, he looked inside me and knew. He knew. He knew I’d been with his wife, he knew I’d been with Alan’s wife. He was the forest and the forest always remembers.
As I slowly unzipped Randall’s tent, I thought that maybe next year we’ll go to the desert.
On a quiet, crisp fall evening, the Smith family gathered around a campfire. They had been camping in Peninsula State Park for nearly a decade, learning the lay of the land and making acquaintance with the various park volunteers. They had known almost every Ranger in the park for nearly five years. Except for one.
To entertain the kids one evening, Dad recalled a news article he had seen as a boy. “Student Missing in Peninsula State Park.” It was a tale of a high school boy, on a camping trip with his family. The boy, Matthew, went on a late night hike with his brother Owen just before a storm. They hiked a precipitous trail along cliffs and then down to the lake. The boys laughed and tried to scare each other, but the moonlight was too bright to let either of them be frightened. Just a bit further, and all of that would change.
The boys neared a cave along the trail. At the very moment they passed in front of the cavern, it was as if someone turned off the moonlight. They stared into a black abyss.
Owen reached for his older brother’s hand, but his grasp was met with emptiness. He flailed with his arms outstretched, searching the night air for a trace of his brother. There was nothing there.
A bolt of lightening pierced the night sky, providing enough light for Owen to search. His eyes found no trace of his brother. He had vanished before Owen’s eyes.
Matthew was born with a problem foot that eventually developed into peculiar limp. Owen knew he couldn’t have run off in fun. He started to worry. Panic even. His heart raced and he felt a rhythmic pulse, deep in his temples. “Matthew!” He cried out. “Someone please help me! I can’t find my brother!”
Park Rangers came to help the search effort. The search lasted four weeks before it was abandoned as hopeless. Owen would never see his brother again.
The case was never solved and every year about Halloween, children tell the tale of the boy who went missing. They embellish the details and claim he is still in the park, haunting the hiking trails. To this day, tracks of someone with a limp show up in the mud of the trails or the sand of the beach. A blood curdling scream can sometimes be heard in the distance. Always after a storm.
Dad wrapped up the story well past dark and just as a storm rolled in. The Smith’s hunkered down in their tents, waiting out the grueling weather. The boys were sure they heard someone dragging their foot just outside their tent. They even swore they heard terrifying screams muffled by the thunder. They didn’t sleep at all that night.
The next morning, around 5:00 AM, an unfamiliar park ranger stopped to check on their site. As he completed his round he went to the tailgate of the truck. As he walked, he revealed a strange characteristic…a dramatic limp. They had never seen this ranger before and never again since.
Thanks for your submission, Timothy!
Nice story. Just enough to make you wonder, This story has my vote.
This story has my vote as my favorite one. I throughly enjoyed it. The plot moved forward with an unexpected twist at the end. Great work Timothy Plennes.
Just enough fright for one night. Great job. You have my vote.
Good story. Really makes you wonder. This story gets my vote
This story has my vote…though I am biased.
I vote for this one!
I enjoyed reading this one.
The cold corner hunted her room. She never went to that part of her room where all her favorite books lied, slowly covering themselves and dust. The old toys of her childhood stood menacingly above the corner on a shelf. These were intended as gifts of joy but only act as a haunting evil.
That night, years ago scarred itself into her memory. She had been woken up by the sound of shuffling steps right next to her bed and felt a cold tap on her shoulder. She thought that maybe it was her mom waking her up for school. She scanned the room, searching for her mom and glanced at the clock. It was the witching hour. Her heart pounded, a constant thump slamming her rib cage and beating in her ears. The train of thoughts of what she had and fearing for months was interrupted by the music. Her music boxes, all 13 of them, started playing the same song, a new nation. Do your spring to her eyes, she prayed and pleaded but to no avail. The music stop playing and she finally breathe. That was until a single doll fell. She didn’t want to see anything more. She hid under her blanket and slept until the sun came up.
She woke to the same doll that had fallen last night sitting on the chair in the cold corner of her room.
Thanks Mattie! Good luck.
Stranded
By: Jasmine Robertson
CRACK! Thunder boomed, and Addison backed further into her seat. She hated thunder, and she was sitting on a bus, returning from Charlotte on a field trip. She turned to her friend, Becca, who was sitting next to her. She was scrolling through one of her social media feeds. “Becca!” Addison whispered. “How long have we been here?” Becca glanced at her phone. “An hour. The new bus should be coming soon.” She looked over at her and smiled. “Don’t worry, Addi. Everything will be fine.” Addison nodded. “I know. I just hate thunder.” Becca fell asleep, so Addison turned toward the pitch-black window. She couldn’t see a thing. The girls behind and in front of her were asleep, and her cousin, Tanner, had his earbuds in across from her. CRACK! The thunder sounded again. She jumped. I hope the bus gets here soon, she thought. She backed herself further into the seat. Maybe if I fall asleep, it’ll pass the time quicker. “Wake me up when the bus comes,” she says to a half asleep Becca. She finally fell into a troubled sleep. In her dream, she heard voices. “Just leave her.” It sounded like Aaron, her cousin’s best friend. “I don’t know.” That sounded like Tanner. “I-” “Tanner!” Aaron interrupted. “We’re not bringing her.” I heard Tanner sigh. “Okay. Let’s go. It’s good that Becca already left.” Addison shot up, and ran after them, but it was too late. The door shut, and she was locked in, with no way out.
Nancy Goldsberry passed by the abandoned bus for what seemed like the millionth time. “I do believe that bus has been there for 30 years!” Her sister, Jenn, nodded. She replied, “I heard a girl was left there. They were on a field trip.” And at that moment, they heard pounding on the old bus’ window.
Thanks for sharing your story, Jasmine! Good luck.
Reflections don’t lie
Susie was experiencing some weird things in her apartment. She always had this idea that some invisible entity is roaming around her. She thought that it might be because of her excessive reading or watching late night T.V. shows. She underestimated her horrors to be hallucinations.
One day, she came late from office and lay down on her bed. She hadn’t planned for sleep but it consumed her nonetheless. When she woke up in an hour or so, she remembered that she saw a dream. In her dream she was asking someone to show up and in return she got told that she would get scared.
She kept thinking of what it could mean. From next day, she started having weary visions of soft fluffy animals covering her whole. They howled in her ears and as soon as she moved there was no sound, nothing. She kept looking right and left, here and there for something, someone. She lost her sleep in nights.
She lied very still on sofa and allowed those animals to return back to her and at same time she asked the ghost to show up. She was prepared that she won’t get afraid. She believed she had to talk to the mysterious person or persons.
She was having sleep paralysis very frequently. She used to get up with a jerk in mornings. She was so tired, so sweaty; it felt like she would die. She used to cling onto someone’s hand or body to make sure that she is not been transported to a different world. Her roommates made fun of her.
Then, one day she was alone, trying to catch sleep. She hadn’t switched off the lights. She was murmuring that she was ready to face it, whatever it was. She didn’t want to open eyes, but they were hollow and empty and meaningless. Out of curiosity, her eyes snapped open and she saw herself.
As long as she remembered, she never had a twin. For a passing moment, she thought that she was in her dream. Her brain struggled to figure out who is the dreamer and who is the dreamt.
The portrait in front of her was very real, only difference was that she was in different clothes. Susie didn’t know when she bought that hanging tee and awkward trousers. She closed her eyes again and her mind slapped a big face on her eyes. She opened them again. She wasn’t to get any sleep that day.
Finally, she asked who you are. The ghost replied that she thought Susie won’t get afraid if she would come in her get up, if she would look like her.
Susie froze, her heart beating thousands of beats in one second and then slowing abruptly. She fainted and woke up late next day. She checked around the house to confirm her nightmare. No one was there. Strangely, she didn’t felt any mysterious presence too. She got ready for work.
After a week or so, she saw her in her office. She shouted a cry in haste of losing mental equilibrium. Her colleagues calmed her down and she composed herself. She vaguely thought of the consequences if that ghost becomes visible to everyone. Though she didn’t look like ghost, she looked like a person, a definite girl, a complete human. Then, she was wearing exactly what Susie was wearing and appeared as her mirror reflection.
The human ghost followed her everywhere. She was picking delicate details like hairstyles, color of the shoes, little accessories, make-up, sleeves on dresses and much more. She was becoming more and more like Susie, like her twin.
Susie thought of going to the psychiatrists or to anyone who might help her get rid of her own image following her. She remembered that she wanted to talk to ghosts.
One night, she was cooking, after eating with her roommates, she went outside. Of course her reflection followed her. Susie asked her who was she and what she wanted? She told that she was the aborted child of her mother. Susie and that ghost were actually sisters, as a matter of fact.
The ghost needed a body to live. She had chosen Susie for her body cover. After some days Susie resigned from her office. She had to go to find her mother. Susie didn’t know if she was interested in her parents anymore but the ghost in her definitely was.
Susie kept running towards mental instability as she kept doing things she didn’t want to do and yet couldn’t stop herself.
Thanks for the story, Nikita. Good luck!
Submit your campfire stories here!
Hey Beartooth,
Love this idea, thanks for setting it up! Unfortunately, everytime I try and submit something, I’m suspected as a bot and then blocked. Know how I can get around this?
Cheers,
Michael
Hi Michael, Thanks for the feedback and participation. Sorry for the trouble. I haven’t run into this issue yet. Can you tell me what device/browser you’re using? Are you including more than one link in your post? If we can’t figure it out, I’ll post it for you through email. I do review comments manually, so it won’t post immediately, but I haven’t seen your story yet.
Hello again. It looks like it just came through, and has been approved. Please let me know if you have any more trouble.
Hi! I am only 11 years of age and i’m very nervous. i want the world to hear my voice… thoughts, feelings. this is a perfect place to do that! this is amazing… Thanks!!! (But as I say it in Hawaii… Mahalo!)
Hi Madison. There is no minimum age to participate. I look forward to reading your story!
Thank you all so much for participating. Voting closes at midnight CST. We will have the results posted within a few days. Happy Halloween!