Cont. >>17035862

>Anyway, so she bounces up to us. .
>”Hi James! Oh, hi Anon. Man, how boring is Mr. Snorerman’s voice. I’m sorry, I’m sure it’s important at all, but I have a hard time caring about lines of best fit at 8am.”
>Our teacher’s name is Mr. Norman.
>*polite laughs all around*
>”Yea,” I say, “And he’s so old too! They should call him Mr. Snoreosaurus!”
>I laugh.
>Only I laugh.
>”Uhhhh, yeaa.” Staci continues, “Anyway. So James, do you have any plans for spring break?”
> “Not exactly. I’m sort of working on a series of nature photos for a possible scholarship, but I’ve been having trouble finding any nature worth shooting. I was maybe thinking about making a road trip somewhere, and I was gonna ask Anon if he wanted to come.”
>Classic James, making nothing sound like something. Still, I’m excited at the prospect of roadtripping, even if he doesn’t mean it.
>”Oh, dude, yea of course I’ll go with you!” I squeak out, popping my heels off the group a bit.
>Both their eyes shift to my feet and then back up.

>”Oh that’s awesome!” Staci continued. “Well, the reason I was asking is because my aunt owns this cabin out on Lake Oahe, and she, like, never uses it. So she gave me permission to have some friends stay there over spring break, and I was wondering if you wanted to maybe come? We’d leave that Monday night, and get back Friday afternoon. It’ll be super fun, I promise AND there’s a ton forests and stuff around there, so I’m sure you could find some good wildlife shots for you project.”

>Fuck, I was really looking forward to that road trip. Oh well, looks like it’s another break filled with Bioshock and Cool Ranch Doritos.

>”Oh, uhh, yea that sounds fun, but I actually kind of need Anon for some help on some of the photos. He knows where to find the type of wild life I’m looking for.”

>I’m shocked at his friendship, but he doesn’t need to fall on his sword on my account.

Cont. >>17035872

>”Oh, how silly of me,” Staci’s bubbly voice giggled a bit, “I should have said it earlier, but Anon you’re totally invited too. I just didn’t know if you wanted to. You don’t really seem to like my friends.”

>Wow, that’s direct of her, but okay.

>”Oh, no, what? I like your friends. I mean, I don’t know them very well, but they seem like nice people.”

>One time I saw her on-again/off-again boyfriend Chad take a shit in his friends baseball hat while people cheered. Great folks.

> Staci seems genuinely surprised, but happy. We swap numbers and she leaves James and I alone.

>”You can thank me later, Anon”
>James’ face is so coy, but I can’t deny it: he’s the man right now.
>“I am forever in your service.” I say, with a courtly bow.
>“Dude, you gotta cut it out with that shit. I know you’re joking, but you just come across as weird.”
>Ouch. Truth hurts.
>”Anyway, I was serious about needing your help with these photos. So that can be how you repay me. “
>He needs my help with photos? James knows more about photos than anyone I’ve met. He got kicked out of our school’s photography class last semester after calling the 65 year old teach a “narrow-minded bourgeois hack” when she wouldn’t allow 200 photo series of the same empty kitchen to serve as his “study of the female body”.
>I ask him why he could possible need me.
>”Oh, it’s simple. You know where to find the dead shit.”

Cont. >>17035881
>Next week, spring break.
>My mom drops me off at Staci’s house, the group’s rendezvous point, and gives me a hug and kiss and says how happy she is that I’m finally making friends.
>Staci answers the door and looks a bit confused when she recognizes me.
>”Oh, hey Anon, you’re a little early, but that’s fine. No one else is here yet though.”
>Alone time already: shit’s so cash.
>I wave back to my mom, who was waiting, parked in the driveway in case something went wrong, and she drives off.
> I drop my bags off in the entrance, and Staci sits on the couch. I sit next to her, and she crosses her legs, scooting away in the process.
>”So Anon, you excited for the trip?”
>“Oh yea, I’m really excited.”
>I just now realized that I have no idea what to say to her.
>*Awkward silence*
>”I hoped I packed the right clothes. I’ve never been to Lake Oahe before, so I wasn’t sure what
to bring.”
>“Actually me neither,” Staci picks it up, seeming natural “I mean I’ve been there before, but the weather can weirdly fluctuate. My aunt said that last year the weather was awesome, and they were able to go out on the boat every day, but this year she said that a cold front is supposed to hit tonight, so it might kinda suck.”
>”Oh, that's okay, I brought a little bit of everything, just in case.”
>Staci laughs and looks over at my three large suitcases full of clothing.
>”Yea, I can see that. I’m just packing a few extra sweaters is all.”
>”Oh like the blue sweater with the black thing on the collar?”
>”What?”
>”Ya know, your blue sweater? It’s kinda tight and has like a black stripe going around the collar. You wore it to school on Thursday.”
>I could hear the words coming out, but was powerless to stop them.
>”Oh uhh, that’s weird.Yea, you’re right though. I’m bringing that one.”
> “Cool. That’s a nice sweater.”
> *Long Pause*

Cont. >>17035889
>”So where did you get it?”
>”What?”
>”The sweater? Ya know, was it a gift or something. Did you just find it at the store?”
>I can feel the spaghetti pouring out of my pockets, but I’m in too deep to pull out now.
>”Uhh, my grandma got it for me for Christmas.”
>”Cool.”
> *Long Pause*
>”Hey, Anon do you want something to drink?”
>”No, I’m okay.”

>At this point I’m swimming in spaghetti, and she’s at a definite risk of drowning, so we both sigh with relief when the doorbell rings.
>Staci pops up to go get it.
>I follow her over to the door, a little too closely, and almost get it when she swings it open.
>”Chad!”
>Staci greets him with a smile and hug.>Chad is at least eight inches taller than her and lifts her off of the ground with his embrace. He’s wearing a fur lined leather coat, which he takes off to reveal a tight, muscle bound green v-neck. He kicks off his boots, which are inexplicably muddy, and walks Staci back over to the couch.
>“What’s up, bud?” He shoots a finger gun my way.
>Fucking Chad.
>I join them on the couch and sit silently while they mock teachers I don’t have and reference TV shows I haven’t seen.
>What’s worse is that I never got a drink, but I was definitely thirsty.

>Eventually everyone show up, we pack up the car, and headed out.
>Since there were five of us (Staci, Staci’s friend Haley, Chad, James, and me), we decided to save gas money and just pack up one car.
>There were supposed to be two other girls with us, Sarah and Emily, but their parents caught them making out earlier that week and grounded them both.
>Five people in one car means that I get stuck in the middle backseat, between James and Haley. Staci has shotgun, and Chad drives.
>Fucking Chad.

>>17035897
>It is a five hour drive, and I spend most of it leaning back and against James, because Haley has pushed her torso forward and on top of me, to talk with the front row.
>After about an hour of her brown, wad of hair spray coated curls, slapping against my face, one strand of those precious locks breaks free.
>The hair shoots straight into my mouth and sticks to back of my through.
>I cough into the back of Haley’s neck, shooting the hair from my throat, up my nose.
>”Excuse you!”
>Haley sneered at me, turning her head my direction for the first time in an hour.
>Just then an involuntary reaction to a chemically treated foreign object in my nasal cavity takes hold.
>I sneeze a fat one right in Haley’s face.
>”Oh my god, what the fuck! God!”
>She screams and wipes her face.
>”I’m so, so sorry, Haley! I couldn’t help it! Sorry!”
>I scramble to find her a tissue, and then Chad hands her an old fast food napkin from the glove compartment.
>I try to apologize more, but she doesn’t seem to want it, and we eventually just listen to music in silence.

>After we exit the interstate, we take a series of smaller highways, and winding dimly lit roads.
>About forty minutes later our cell phone service begins to fail.
>Staci says she figured this might happen and has printed off directions ready.
>The roads get smaller and smaller and the exits more sudden, appearing without warning on the sides of of the road.
>We pass our exit on accident and have to double back.
>After another twenty minutes on a gravel road, we pull up to a little gravel cul-de-sac with only one small cabin in it, and one street lamp in front of it.
> “We’re here!” Staci says, as the car parks.

>>17035907
>We had only had one bathroom break, so it feels good to stretch my legs, particularly after riding bitch for five hours. Plus, the close quarters had made each of us less than comfortable, so as soon as we got out everyone kind of wandered off the cul-de-sac away from each other.
>Staci was right, the woods are thick out here, really thick. Granted, it’s easily after 10pm when we get there, but even with the bright moonlight and the streetlamp, when I look into the woods everything seems black after about fifteen feet.

>”Hey Sneeze-machine, you wanna help us unload?”
>I turn back to the cul-de-sac to see Chad holding two bags and grinning at me.
>”Yea, of course I will.” I say, marching back to the car.
>As I pick up some stuff Chad leans over to me.
>”Pretty spooky, huh? All that darkness?”
>”Eh, I guess. I don’t really think so.”
>”Oh? Well good for you.” Chad taunts, “I think it’s thrilling. This deep in the woods. So far from society’s cradle. No one to call, even if you could call anyone.”
>I don’t know what face I make, but when he sees it he starts cracking up and pats me on the shoulder.
>”Hey don’t lose any more fluids tonight, bud. I’m just fucking with you. It’ll look great here in the morning.
>I look over to the woods, and it seems like they’re inching towards me.
>After he walks away I check my phone again: no service.
>Fucking Chad.

>Tuesday morning
>I wake up in my sleeping bag on the floor in the spare bedroom.
>The cabin has only two bedrooms, so we split it between guys and girls.
>3 guys
>1 bed
>Chad won it in a bullshit rock/paper/scissors tournament.

>>17035914
>I sit up and realize that I’m the only one still asleep.
>Quickly get dressed and hurry to the main room.
>The cabin is one big square with a living room/kitchenette combo in the middle and bedrooms on either side.
>Everyone is awake. Haley is in the living room, flipping through a record collection in the corner.
>Staci is at the stove, cooking breakfast.
>”Oh Sleeping Beauty has finally risen!”
>Chad is at the table, laughing with a beer in his hand.
>He’s wearing another tight v-neck, and the vein on his arm suggest that he started the morning with pushups.
>”Hey Anon, do you want some eggs?” Staci asks from the kitchen.
>”Oh, yea, that’d be great actually. Where’s James?”
>”He’s out front with his camera.” Chad motions with his beer hand. “You’d think the kid never saw trees before.”
>”I told you, he’s working on a project,” Staci corrects him. “Besides, it’s nice that he’s passionate.”
>”Hey I don’t have a problem with it. To each their own, sure. Hey, Anon, grab yourself a beer. Start the morning off right.”
>I’ve never drank beer in the morning before, but I’m not trying to argue with Chad about that right now.
>I’ve done my share of underaged drinking, but if I’m being honest, it’s never been anything crazy. Usually a friend or two sneak into their parents liquor cabinets, and we make drink bets on Super Smash Bros.
> I go to the fridge and open it
>There’s more beer inside than I’d ever seen in my life.
>”That’s a lot of beer.”
>”Yea, dude. What did you think we were out here for? Nature’s cool and all, but the opportunity to get fucked up free of parental advisory: that’s worth the drive.”
>I crack open my first beer of the day and pound it in front of the fridge.
>Crinkle the can in my fist.
>Blech.
>comeatmebro.jpeg
>”Atta boy!” Chad cheers, and pounds his too. “Let’s have another!”

>>17035920
>Chad and I spend the next hour or so slamming beers while he tells me stories of crazy parties he’s been to that got busted or hiking trips he’s been on or awesome concerts he’s been to.
>Most of it seems like bullshit, but whatever. They’re good stories regardless.
>By mid-morning we’re all up and ready to go for a hike.
>Shit’s awesome.
>The air is crisp and fresh and before long we’re all joking around with each other.
>Chad’s still being a douche, but what can you expect.
>We’re all bonding like some prime time sit com shit.
>At some point in the hike we see a dark pile, like a dead animal about 10 feet off the trail.
>”Ew. Whats that?” Staci points it out first.
>Girls are grossed out, don’t want to go near.
>Chad’s playing it cool: no big deal; nothing to see here.
>James and I get our dicks hard and scoot on over to it.
>Shit is so fucked up, it’s basically inside out.
>It takes us a moment to realize that it’s a deer, or at least that’s our best guess.
>James’ camera is snapping away.
>what a find.
>After a moment Chad joins us, like he’s motherfuckin John Locke from Lost
>”It’s strange that there aren’t any animal tracks around here”
>Okay dude, sure. You definitely could spot animal tracks if they were here, and they definitely aren’t.
>James and I just let him have it, while he pokes around the nearby bushes.
>The girls get tired of this pretty quick.
>“Guys come on that’s nasty, I don’t want to look at it,” Haley whines.
>I look to James
>”You get enough pics?”
>”Yea I got enough” he sat, even though he’s still snapping more photos, this time of the surrounding wooden's, even one looking straight at the sky above where we found it.

>>17035926
>We keep moving. Eventually getting to the top of a hill. I don’t know what qualifies as a mountain, and I don’t think this was one, exactly, but the view from the top was amazing.
>Where the trail ends, there is this perfect little clearing in the trees and a big stone on the cliff that looks out over the horizon.
>James and I feelin’ like Lewis and Clark.
>Picture an ocean of green all around us, sloping up and down like waves about to crash.
>No houses, no roads, no water, just trees.
>Wait.
>I asked Staci where the lake went.
>”Oh, that is weird.” Staci scratches her head. “I guess we must be facing the other direction? Maybe it’s beyond those trees.”
>She points to the thick woods we just came from.
>Shit doesn’t really add up.
>I usually have a weirdly good sense of direction, and I didn’t notice the trail turning at all.
>I check the sun for any indication, but it’s the middle of the day, so it’s just straight up above us.
>”Does this path have a curve to it?” I ask, to no one in particular.
>”I don’t know actually,” Staci responds. “This is actually my first time on the trail. I used to get really sick as a kid, so whenever I came up here they didn’t let me come along. ”
>That’s convenient.
>Chad must have smelled my discomfort.
>”Hey bud, don’t worry about it. We’ll get back in a sinch. We just have to follow the path.”
>”I wasn’t scared.”

>Haley has been feeling weird about how alone we are, so she isn’t scouting out the horizon with us.
>”Hey guys come check this out.”
>She’s at the edge of the clearing, to the right of where we came in, looking at some kind stone structure.
>We move in closer, and it appears to be what I would imagine a spirit shrine to look like, if I had any idea what a shrine looked like.

>>17035932
> It’s about three feet tall, rounded on the top, with a hole and cavern in the middle. The whole thing is build out of very round grey stones, a little bigger than softballs, animals bones, twine, and ivy. The ivy has creeped around and into every part of the structure, so we can’t tell if it was part of it it or a parasite.
>I realize now, that aside from the clicking of James’ camera, everything is dead silent.
>No wind, no rustling leaves, no animal foot steps. I can’t even hear anyone breathing.
>Just click, click, click, click of the shutter
>”Any ideas what this is?”
>Again, I ask towards pretty much no one.
>Nopes all around.
>Another weird thing I forgot to mention. The whole shrine thing is pretty poorly put together, there are visible cracks between the rocks and bones, and it looks like it could fall over at any moment. Still, the cavity in the center is pitch black.
>”Hey Anon, I dare you to stick your hand inside.”
>Chad slaps me on the back, and I stumble towards it.
>”Fuck you dude, no.”
>”C’mon don’t you wanna know what’s inside?”
>”There’s nothing inside there. It’s just a pile of rocks.”
>”Then why don’t you want to put your hand in it?”
>”Cause I don’t. Why don’t you put your hand in it, if you’re so curious.”
>Not my best comeback, but it works.
>”Okay, deal.”
>Chad squats down, slowly moves his hand towards the hole.
>He’s acting cool about it, but I can see the sweat bead on his forehead.
>I can feel the sweat bead on my forehead, too.
>He slides his arm is in it up to the elbow, and it looks like he’s found the back.
>”See,” he says, looking up at me “nothing in here but--”
>Suddenly Chad screams at the the top of his lungs. More than a scream; it’s a screech. His eyes are wide and white, and his legs kick out from under him, so his body falls to the ground, but he’s still held up by his arm in the hole.

>>17035938
>Staci screams
>Haley screams
>I grab Staci by the waist and pull her away from his flailing limbs, hero style.
>”Staci get back!”

>Chad stops flailing and is laughing uncontrollably.

>Pulls his arm out of the shrine.
>It’s totally fine.
>”Oh my god, Anon,”
>He’s crying from how hard he’s laughing
>“Staci!!! Get back!!!!’”
>*still laughing*
>“Jesus. . . “
>*still laughing*
>“I figured you were skittish but I had no idea.”

>”Not funny, Chad!” Staci seems as annoyed as me.
>Haley’s laughing too.
>”It was a little funny.”
>Chad stands up. Staci kicks him in the boot.
>”God, you’re such a dick!”
>James is laughing too, and I realize that he probably got pictures of the whole episode. I’m salty right now, but part of me knows those will be funny later.
>We decide to head back down the trail to the cabin.
>The walk back seems shorter than the walk out, almost like we were going down hill.
>I have to say, Chad’s little stunt did clear the air a bit for us. I think we were all a little freaked by that dead deer still.
>We spend the whole walk back telling funny stories, mostly about first crushes or awkward sexual encounters.
>All my stories make Staci giggle.
>That feels nice.
>Turns out Chad’s first crush pantsed him in the first grade.
>That feels good to know.
>Actually I learn a lot about Chad on that walk back. His dad was in the military, and he spent a lot of time moving around as a child. We actually bond about that for a second. But by the time he reached junior high his parents split up, so he moved to South Dakota with his mom, where he’s been ever since. He says it was his dad who was so into hunting andall that. He says that they had done that a lot during his childhood, so now, it was a way to still feel connected with him.
>I tell him I understood that feeling. That’s the feeling I get when analyzing dead stuff.
>”Yea, but that’s fucking weird, Anon,” Haley chimes in.

>>17035946
>We are all back in the cabin, with beers in hand, before I realize that we didn’t even notice the deer corpse on the way back.

>At the cabin we suddenly realize we’re hungry as shit.
>”Oh don’t worry Anon, we’ve got that covered.” Staci assured me, as she whipped open the kitchen cabinets. Food is stocked up. Chips, cereal, cookies, bread, granola bars, trail mix. It’s honestly an unnecessary amount for the five of us, but like I said we had originally planned on seven.
>I remember that we had each contributed $150. At the time I thought it was largely for the cost of the cabin. Really it was for booze and food.
>We satisfy our cravings on trail mix and shots of whiskey. Then we set out to build a campfire.
>”Wait,” I say, “Aren’t we here on a lake trip? Can we set the fire up by the lake?”
>”Great idea Anon!”
>Everyone’s down.
>We pack up our shit and hike down to the lake. It’s honestly probably less than a quarter mile.
>It can’t be later than 6 o'clock by the time we get the fire going, but it’s already dark.
>The water is crazy still. The moon isn’t out yet, so it’s jet black, not even reflecting the trees.
>No worries, though: the fire’s warm, the laughs are easy, and we brought enough booze down to knocks us all out.
>After we grill and eat, James busts out a deck of playing cards and suggests Circle of Death. (It’s a drinking game where every card is a different rule fyi.)
>When a five is drawn the group plays “Never Have I Ever” with three fingers.
>I hate this game.
>I always win, but everyone knows real point of the game is to lose, because if you win it means you haven’t done shit..
>I had one girlfriend for about four weeks in eighth grade. We made out a couple of times, and I went for the boobie grab, but that’s it.
>The first five is drawn, and I end the game with three fingers still up.

>>17035951
>A few rounds later the second five is drawn and I lose again, though I got to put a finger down for sneaking out. I don’t tell them that it was to see my eighth grade girlfriend, the night she broke up with me.
>After a bit the third five is drawn-- we’ve only gone through like sixteen cards, but of course we’re getting all the fives.
>I have all three fingers up again, but so does Staci, so it doesn’t feel quite so bad.
>”You and me, Anon. Three’s company.” She says, wiggling her fingers at me.
> I wiggle mine back back and we lean forward to touch fingertips.
>Our eyes catch during our “ET phone home” moment. The fire-light dances across her smile, and for a second it seems to shift to sadness. Like she just remembered something she had been trying hard to forget.
>”Alright kids, six is for dicks,” Chad cut into the moment. “Anon, James, drink up!”

>After the game, Chad tells us he’s got a little treat for everyone.
>”Given some of the newfound information we have on Mr. James and Mr. Anon, I feel that now would be the perfect time to delve into a little surprize I brought along.”
>Pulls out two finely crafted white owl blunts.
>I’ve never smoked weed before this.
>At first I think he’s holding cigarillos, but luckily I keep that thought to myself.
>”So what do you guys think, you wanna get high?”
>James has never smoked before either, so he and I exchange glances.
>Haley’s the first to answer,
> “Oh hell yea!”
>Staci puts a smile back on and says yes too.
>”I’m in.” I say, with a face of determination that garners a laugh.

>>17035959
>Be me.
>Be drunk and high for the first time, in the woods, with the girl who seems too perfect to talk to you, and a group of people you suspect of becoming your best friends.
>After the first blunt, Chad asks if we want another.
>Staci says she’s good.
>I don’t notice the question at first, because I’m trying to figure out whether I think the fungus on the logs we’re sitting on is horsehair parachute or sulphur tuft
>”Hey, Anon, do you want to go down to the water with me?”
>Look up.
>It’s Staci.
>Time to shine, Anon!
>”Oh, uhh, yea sure.”

>We walk down to the water, just far enough from the others that they can’t really hear our conversation.
>The water looks awesome. The moon is out now, and its reflection is crystal clear across the still black surface. The air is crisp and fresh on my face, nipping me a bit.
>Feelin’ ready for anything.
>Staci starts making small talk about the trees and the weather.
>I’m remarkably smooth here.
>Describe it as magical as all get out, though, when I actually look at the trees, I can’t quite focus on them. They keep kind of shifting around on me, like they’re moving. Or like there’s something in them moving. And like it’s trying to stay out of my sight.
>The hair on the back of my neck is needles at this point. The air around is more than nipping. It’s biting. I double my efforts to find the shadows, but they’re tricky little bastards.
>”Hey, uhh, Staci, is it just me or are those trees, like, moving?”
>I realize how this sounds, but I need some answers right about now. Especially cause the trees aren’t just moving around each other, but they seem to be reaching up, trying to block out the sky.
>Staci laughs.
>”Anon, you’re just stoned. That’s what it’s like sometimes. Just try to relax. Here.”
>She grabs my hand. My heart starts pounding like crazy.

>>17035964
>”Just focus on this” she says as she weavers her fingers in between mind.
>This is supposed to make me relax?
>I look her in the eyes. Wow. I never realized how much you can feel from just looking at someone. Her eyes are a bright green in the moonlight, but the water’s reflection is dancing shadows across her face. I guess the shadows were always there. She looks sad in a way, like she’s been trying really hard to find something or see something, but she hasn’t quite gotten it.
>”Anon were you telling the truth when you said you’ve never slept with a girl?”
>What did she just say?
>”Uhh, yea I was.”
>”Why is that?”
>Alright Don Juan, step it up a notch.
>”I don’t know exactly. I guess it just never felt right, ya know? I don’t want it to be some random thing that happens. I don’t want to do it just to do it. I’d want it to be special in some way. So I always just figured I’d wait until it was.”
>10/10: Would Repost.
>”That’s really sweet actually. I wish I had waited. I lost it when I was 15. He was older. I thought we’d be together for forever. He broke up with me two days later. It’s kinda gross to think about.”
>”Oh, I’m sorry.”
>”It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”
>Back by the fire I hear the other’s laughing loudly. I look back and see that James and Chad have climbed part of a tree and are howling at the moon.
>”But what about you, Anon? What do you mean by special? What does that look like?”

>>17035970
>”Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it lot. I guess, just, a time when everything feels right. There’d be no worries or pressure. It’d feel like, like when you’re in a forest alone, and you hear a bird singing, but you don’t know where it’s coming from, but you don’t have to, because if you don’t know where it’s from it seems like it’s all around you. And then the song goes away and you can hear your own heart pounding in the silence. It’d be with someone who knew that feeling. Someone who could give you that feeling with only her eyes.”
>I pause for long eye contact, then continue,
>”And it’d be in a place the seemed separate from normal life, somewhere where my only memory would be of that moment. And it couldn’t be planned, that would ruin everything. It’d have to come from that place, in that moment; an impulse, but one that we knew was right.”
>Oscar worthy shit.
>I don’t know if it’s the booze or the woods or my soliloquy, but just then Staci leans over and kisses me on the mouth.
>Fireworks shoot in my head and Queen gears up for “We Are The Champions”
>... until I break away.
>”Wait, what about Chad?”
>Once again, I’m hearing the words come out, but I can barely believe that I’m saying
them.
>”What? What about him?”
>”I mean, aren’t you two like, together or something?”
>I would sacrifice a small, fatally ill child right now if it meant that I would shut the fuck up.
>”Oh,” she chuckled a bit, “No, we broke up months ago. I thought you knew?”
>Praise be to the old gods and the new.
>”No, I didn’t. What happened there?”
>Whyyyy whyyyyyyy won’t I just stop talking.
>”I don’t know. What usually happens. I just realized he’s a better friend than boyfriend. He’s never serious about anything, ya know?”
>”Oh. Cool. I can be serious.”
>She laughs again.

>>17035977
>”Yea, I’ve picked up on that. Hey do you not want to do this?”
>”Oh, no, I really really do.”
>”Okay good, then stop talking.”

Okay, sorry for the long build up. I’ll start cutting to the chase a bit.

>Staci and I go back to the cabin, claim one of the rooms for ourselves.
>Engage in sweet, sweet coitis for the first time.
>I won’t go into details, but being drunk, high, exhausted from the day, I pass out immediately after.
>Wake up, no idea what time it is, unbelievable pressure in my bladder. Gotta go ASAP.
>Realize I’m alone in the room. No Staci.
>Feels bad for a second, but maybe she just went to hang out with the others while I slept it off.
>Walk into the main room.
>All the lights are off.
>Haley and James are asleep on the floor. Both fully clothed, but sitting real close to each other. I make a note to ask him about that later.
>Other room’s door is such.
>As I go the bathroom, I glance out the cabin’s back window.
>See Staci standing in the yard, looking down at something.
>There’s something a little weird about the way she’s standing, like she’s too rigid almost, but the beer-piss demands attention, so I scoot off to the bathroom.
>Flip the seat up, unzip the fly, and experience sweet relief.
>Try to remember the last time I peed that day, because this is taking awhile.
>Rest my hand on the window sill next to the toilet.
>I’ve never understood why people put windows in bathrooms, but whatever. Maybe people like look at nature while they’re dropping a duce.
>Glance out the window.
>It’s all fogged up, which makes sense because the cabin is heated and it gets cold as shit out here at night.
>I take my sleeve and wipe away some of the condensation, and I swear to god, I see a fucking face on the other side of the glass.

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>>17035984
>I scream, and fall backwards, tripping over the toilet.
>Piss goes everywhere.
>Look back at the window, but the face is gone.
>Get pants situated, and sprint outside to warn Staci that someone’s out there.
>Run behind the cabin to where she was standing.
>No one’s there.
>My adrenaline is pumping on max now.
>Sprint around the cabin to the front, still shouting her name.
>Haley and James come outside, woken by all the commotion.
>Tell them I can find Staci, and that I saw someone looking into the bathroom window.
>Before they respond we hear a voice,
>”hey.”
>Turn and see Staci, standing in front of the cabin.
>”Staci where’d you go??” I demand.
>I can hear that I sound like a crazy person, but I don’t stop it.
>”What are you talking about? I was here.”
>She’s strangely calm about the situation, and about me shouting.
>”Why didn’t you respond to me yelling for you?”
>”I did. I said ‘hey.’”
>”Okay, whatever, there’s someone else out here, we have to go inside.”

>We go back inside and lock the doors.
>By this time Chad’s up too, so I explain what happened.
>What I didn’t mention earlier is that what I saw in the window wasn’t just a person's face. It was like a grotesque recreation of a person's face. I only saw it for a second, but it looked like The Scream painting. It’s jaw was slack and vacant, like it had been broken off and left to dangle. It’s eyes and nose were giant black holes sunken in from the rest of the face.

>>17035991
>I explain this to them, and Staci starts laughing.
>”I’m not joking Staci! I saw someone or something staring at me!”
>She’s still laughing, but there’s something kind of off about it. It’s forced in a way.
>”Anon that was me! I was just trying to spook you, ‘cause I heard you go to the bathroom.”
>The group breathes a sigh of relief and chuckles a bit with her.
>I start to protest, but can’t think of anything to say. What she’s saying doesn’t make sense, but then again, what I’m saying doesn’t really make much sense either. So I just stutter out a weak
>”A-are you sure?”
>”Positive.”
>Chad pats me on the shoulder,
>”Okay Bud, don’t take it too hard. The reefer can get us all spooked from time to time.”
>I tell them I don’t feel stoned anymore, but they aren’t phased.
>Everyone is tired, it’s the middle of the night, so we agree to go back to sleep.
>Staci asks if she can have the room to herself. She doesn’t sleep well with other people.
>She shared the room with Haley last night, but I can take a hint, so I post up in the living room.
>Still, I can’t shake the image of that face in the window.
>I keep re-playing the scene in my mind.
>She was about thirty feet from the cabin when I saw her from the main room. Could she have gotten to the window that fast?
>Where did she go when I ran out there?
>Why was she outside in the first place?

>>17035997
>Wednesday morning.
>I wake up with James and Haley, and aside from a massive hangover, the morning commences like yesterday: making breakfast, drinking beer, listening to some of the records we found.
>Staci’s aunt must have a thing for jazz and blues, but that’s fine with me. Lois Armstrong in the morning.
>What a wonderful world.
>After a bit Chad comes out, and has a hay-day giving me shit for last night.
>Once we finish eating and down a few morning-brew sto kill the hangovers, we notice that Staci still hasn’t gotten up.
>We knock on her door and call for her.
>No answer.
>After exchanging glances, we try the knob.
>Locked.
>The doors only lock from the inside, so James suggests that maybe she just had a long night.
>We play it cool, but clearly everyone’s a bit worried.
>Try knocking again
>Still no answer.
>Each room has a window to it, so James and I walk around the side of the cabin to check if she’s inside.
>We peak through the window and see Staci, sitting on the edge of the bed.
>Her head is bent down so her hair is covering her face. She has that same weird rigid posture she had in the yard last night, and she seems to just be going through her phone.
>Even from outside the cabin we can hear Chad knocking and calling her name, but she is just ignoring him.
>I tap on the glass of the window and immediately her head jerks towards me.
>There was a darkness across her face that I had never seen before. She had huge bags under her eyes, like she hadn’t slept in weeks, and her cheeks were gaunt and hollow. Our eyes met for a second and I felt this surge of hate pulse from her glare.
>For the first time I start to believe that maybe it was her in the window last night.
>”Staci, are you feelin’ okay?” James asks.
>When she turns to look at him, her entire face shifts. It lights up and she flashes us her usual smile.

>>17036000
>”I was just checking a few things. I’ll be right out”
>And with that she stands up and opens the door to Chad.
>James and I exchange glances for a second.
>”Did uhhh, did she look okay to you?” I ask
>”I don’t know, man. I guess? That was really weird though. Maybe she’s been drinking too much.”
>James takes a photo of the room from the window before we went around front to join the others.
>That afternoon we go down by the water again.

>On the walk down I ask Staci how she’s feeling, wondering if we should talk about last night. Wondering if we should talk about either part of last night.
>”I’m fine. Let’s just have some fun, okay?”
>At this point I’m getting my little feelings hurt a bit, but she’s right, we should just have fun. We can talk about whatever happened between her and me another time. No worries.
>The water is still ice cold, but we make a game out of daring people to jump in. Sometimes with a ball being tossed to them. Sometimes from a tree. Ya know, usual cold lake shit.
>Chad asks Staci to join in, offering to throw her a pass.
>She says she’s fine, and stays seated on the grass above the beach.
>Throughout the day I notice James and Haley getting even more flirty flirt.
>He keeps getting her to pose next to trees or in the water or on the little bit of beach.
>She’s clearly into the attention, but I can’t blame her; the photos look phenomenal. Real talk: my boy James has a gift.
>At one point he has me click through some of the picture’s he’s nabbed of the trip so far. After getting through a few dozen of Haley-- including some from last night around the fire-- I get to the general nature shots of the trip. After about a million shots of trees and bushes, I click back far enough to see that dead deer we passed the first day.
>I don’t know how I didn’t notice it at the time, but looking at the photo, I realized there are no flies anywhere around it.

>>17036007
>This was a torn open, rotten carcass, and there weren’t any signs of scavenging insects at all.
>I set the zoom to the max just to make sure, and can’t find anything. But when I click around the photo, in the background, between two of the trees in the distance, there was a shadow, almost like a silhouette.
>”Hey James, look at this.”
>I pull him over and show him that camera.
>”Look at what?”
>”There, in the background. Does that look like a person to you?”
>He squints at it for a second.
>”I don’t know about that, dude. I think you’re letting your imagination take the better of you. That could be anything. Also, it could be nothing. Photos capture tricks of the light all the time, that’s part of the fun. How do you think I got those photos of Haley glowing by the fire last night. If you adjust the the shutter rate all the light blends together.”
>I don’t feel like arguing with him over photography so I let it go.

>Once we all get tired of the lake, we head back up for a late lunch.
>We grill out once again, and again I realize all at once that day-drinking will get you famished.
>Everybody chows down except Staci. She says she’s not hungry.
>Chad tells her that she’s been drinking all day, she’s gotta eat.
>That gets me wondering: Has she been drinking all day? I haven’t noticed it. Maybe she was too drunk last night and isn’t feeling it now. Maybe she regrets last night and is trying to keep a hold of herself.
>feelsbadman.jpeg
>Eventually Chad gets her to eat, but she just kind of picks at the hamburger meat.
>After lunch James and Haley go for a walk in the woods.
>Chad is by far the most far in on the booze, so he is ready for a nap.
>Leaving Staci and I alone for the first time since last night. Seems like as good of time as any to bring it up.

>>17036013
>We’re in the main room of the cabin. She’s sitting on the floor with her legs criss-cross-applesauce, examining a safety pin which is holding together a tear in her shirt sleeve. She’s hunched over and her hair is covering her face.
>I’ve never seen her wear a torn shirt before, and I’ve never seen this shirt either, but whatever. There have been a lot of firsts on this trip.
>I sit down next to her, but she doesn’t acknowledge it.
>”Hey, uhh, Staci, should we talk about last night?”
>Here she looks up at me. Her face looks tired again and sad.
>”What about last night?” she asks, without expression, and then she returns to the safety pin, finally succeeding in opening it.
>”I just…. I don’t know. How do you feel about what happened, I guess? Was it okay?”
>”Do you think it was okay?”
>She’s still not looking at me, just turning the safety pin over and over again in her fingers.
>”I mean, yea, I think so. I mean, I’m glad it happened. I don’t regret it or anything. A-are you, uhh, are you glad it happened?”
>She doesn’t say anything for a moment, and I feel the weight of that silence sink in.
>”Staci….. I just--”
>She turns her head towards me, and her hair falls away revealing a huge, plastic smile. Her eyes lock with mine, again, but they aren’t the dazzling green eyes that I’d known. These eyes are greyed and vacant, flat, like a doll’s eyes, sitting over a gigantic smile.
>”I’m glad it happened,” she says, deadpan, staring me down.
>As she says this she places her left hand on my thigh, and without breaking eye-contact she uses her right hand to stick that safety pin through my jeans and into my leg, as deep as it can go.
>I yell and jump up, which only makes it hurt worse.
>”What the fuck, Staci?! Jesus?!”
>I cuss at her, but she just keeps staring at me with that same, vacant smile.

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>>17036020
>We’re in the main room of the cabin. She’s sitting on the floor with her legs criss-cross-applesauce, examining a safety pin which is holding together a tear in her shirt sleeve. She’s hunched over and her hair is covering her face.
>I’ve never seen her wear a torn shirt before, and I’ve never seen this shirt either, but whatever. There have been a lot of firsts on this trip.
>I sit down next to her, but she doesn’t acknowledge it.
>”Hey, uhh, Staci, should we talk about last night?”
>Here she looks up at me. Her face looks tired again and sad.
>”What about last night?” she asks, without expression, and then she returns to the safety pin, finally succeeding in opening it.
>”I just…. I don’t know. How do you feel about what happened, I guess? Was it okay?”
>”Do you think it was okay?”
>She’s still not looking at me, just turning the safety pin over and over again in her fingers.
>”I mean, yea, I think so. I mean, I’m glad it happened. I don’t regret it or anything. A-are you, uhh, are you glad it happened?”
>She doesn’t say anything for a moment, and I feel the weight of that silence sink in.
>”Staci….. I just--”
>She turns her head towards me, and her hair falls away revealing a huge, plastic smile. Her eyes lock with mine, again, but they aren’t the dazzling green eyes that I’d known. These eyes are greyed and vacant, flat, like a doll’s eyes, sitting over a gigantic smile.
>”I’m glad it happened,” she says, deadpan, staring me down.
>As she says this she places her left hand on my thigh, and without breaking eye-contact she uses her right hand to stick that safety pin through my jeans and into my leg, as deep as it can go.
>I yell and jump up, which only makes it hurt worse.
>”What the fuck, Staci?! Jesus?!”
>I cuss at her, but she just keeps staring at me with that same, vacant smile.

>>17036028

>I limp over to the bathroom, and sit on the toilet to get this thing out.
>The pin is lodged over an inch into my thigh, and the suction mean that removing it is a slow process. I feel my skin pinch up to grip the needle as I pull it, throbbing, out of my thigh. Once it’s out a few drops of blood stain my jeans. I bandage up, so the only real harm is a burning pulse in my thigh.
>I don’t know what to do next, because everyone is gone but the two of us, and I am not trying to talk to her again, in case she has something bigger than a pin next time.
>I end up just sitting in the bathroom, thinking about everything, until I hear some doors open and close, and figure that the coast is clear.
>Sure enough when I go out to the main room, Staci is gone, and the door to her room is closed.
>Suddenly the cabin feels claustrophobic so I go out for some fresh air.
>After a good amount of grumbling who stabs someone with a fucking saftey pin, I realize that I’m actually pretty drunk at this point-- frankly we’ve all been drunk the whole time-- and the sun is bright and cozy. So I find myself a nice tree on the edge of the cul-de-sac to post up in for a little nap.

>I wake up to the sound of James’ camera shutter
>click click click
>”Awww dude, fuck off with that right now.”
>My leg still hurts, and I’m not in the best mood in general.
>James laughs, but stops taking photos.
>”What’s the matter, Grumpy Guss? Why are you out here alone?”
>I tell him about Staci and about last night and today and why my leg is bleeding.
>”Yea, that’s pretty weird, dude.”
>He basically tells me that I should try to lay low and maybe give her some space for the rest of the trip, since we’re only there for another two nights. And we only have one car so it’s not like I can leave early.
>That makes as much sense as anything else. Still, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said that I wanted my first time to be memorable.

>>17036032
>We go back to the cabin to see Chad packing up some backpacks.
>I ask him if he is leaving or something.
>”Ouch, Anon. And I thought we were just starting to get along.”
>”Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just, why are you packing up?”
>”Relax bud, I’m just fucking with you. My feelings don’t hurt that easy.”
>He pauses here for a second, and I can’t decide if he’s implying something about me. Regardless he continues
>”I just figured we’d had enough time lushing it up in this cabin. James and I did some talking and decided it’d be fun to spend a night out in the woods. Set up some tents. Dig a little fire pit. Unplug for a night.”
>I actually have trouble believing that he’s saying this. This sounds like the worst idea ever.
>”Uhhh, I don’t know man. That doesn’t sound very safe. What about, like, wild animals or something?”
>What I mean to say is what about that fucking spooky ass face I saw in the window, but I figured they wouldn’t go over well.
>”Oh don’t worry about them,” Chad reassures me, “we aren’t bringing any food they’d be much interested in, plus they don’t like fire. So as long as that’s going we should be fine.”
>I’m still not sold.
>”Okay, but like, what you want to go off the trail? We got turned around yesterday and didn’t realize it. What if we get lost out here? You yourself said that there’s no one to call.”
>”Yea, but that’s what we have compases for. And a map. We know the coordinates of the cabin. We know the route of the road that leads to the cabin. We’re just gonna go east for a bit, anyway. There’s not much getting lost we can do, so long as we walk straight. Besides, I’m eagle scout. This isn’t exactly a new thing for me.”
>Chad’s an eagle scout.
>Of fucking course he is.

>>17036035
>”Come on dude, it’ll be fun.” James is weirdly excited about the prospect. Then I see the hickey on his neck, and understand his real motivations.
>I protest a little bit more, looking for Haley for support, but she just says that if I don’t want to go, I can just stay at the cabin alone.
>I start packing up my own backpack, cursing the whole time.

>Chad has us hike for about two hours off of the trail.
>Thankfully, no one is drinking as much tonight. I stay stone sober.
>The feeling of the hike itself is hard to pin down. On the one hand, James, Chad, and Haley seem to be having a great time. They’re joking and laughing and telling camp stories. The three of them honestly could be made into a promotional video for Lake Oahe: Friends, Forests, and Good Feels.
>Staci and I are another story.
>She’s walking slower than anyone else, and keeps falling behind the group because of it. Also sometimes she just stops walking altogether and just stares into the distance.
>I do my best to ignore it, but it consumes all of my attention. She barely speaks to anyone. Chad and Haley each try to pull her into the conversation, but she just gives one or two word responses.
>By the time we stop hiking and set up camp, I’m basically watching everything she does.
>She’s slow at everything, from tying her shoes to zipping and unzipping her backpack. The more I watch her the more I get the impression that she’s simply forgotten how to do most things, and is trying to relearn them.
>We just brought one tent, but it’s huge and has two zip-off side compartments. Chad, James, Haley and I set it up pretty quickly, while Staci just kind of stands and watches us.
>While James and I dig the fire pit, Chad forages around nearby for wood. Haley joins Staci, sitting on a fallen tree. I try to listen to the conversation, but because of the digging and Chad’s rustling around, can only make out parts

>>17036040
>From what I do hear, though, Haley starts by saying she is glad that Staci had us all out here, talking about how awesome it is, and such.
>Staci still isn’t saying much, though at least she’s smiling now.
>Haley’s voice gets concerned, and she seems to be asking if everything’s okay. She’s asking about what happened with me last night.
>Staci’s responses seem to not even change.
>She’s still monotone.
>Still smiling.
>Once Chad finishes arranging the wood for the fire, James calls Haley over and asks to get a picture of her lighting in.
>Haley leaves Staci saying “Well, if you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here.”
>Despite all of Chad’s chest-puffing about wilderness, he douses those twigs in lighter fluid. When Haley gets close with the lighter, the stack bursts into a plume of flames for an instant, and Haley squeals and jumps back.
>I ask James if he got it, and he winks at me.
>Once the fire is started, and everyone is more or less situated, James goes to work with his camera again. I want to ask him to stop, to call him over so that maybe he can help me work things out. But it’s sundown, and the lighting couldn’t be better, and I know that pictures like these are the main reason he’s here.
>Haley tries to get him to come sit down with us, but that only results in him asking her to be in more photos. She declines, but says maybe later.
>I think at this point, Haley blames me for the state that Staci is in, because her usual cold-shoulder, snarky comments, have transitioned into complete silence and death stares.
>James brought along supplies for s’mores, so even though he isn’t participating, the rest of us sit down to roast some marshmellows.
>I don’t really like s’mores, but at least it’s something to do.
>Chad challenges Haley, Staci and me to see how can roast their marshmallow to the best golden brown.

>>17036045
>I know that the best way to do that is to get the marshmallow near the base of the flame, next to the embers, but outside of any flames themselves, that way it won’t catch.
>I’m feeling good about my roast job when I pull it out, and I hold off on smashing it between some grahams until we can compare.
>Chad’s is pretty good too, but the best is definitely Haley’s. It is one continuous tan color, the whole way round. I ask how she did it, but she says it’s a trade secret, and she’ll never tell.
>We look over to Staci to rank hers, but she hasn’t pulled it out of the fire yet. The end of her poker is just covered in this shriveled black wad, which we watch drip into the fire.
>We each just kind of stare at Staci in disbelief until she mutters out a “sorry…”
>No one really responds to her, but Chad’s never been one to let awkward silences abide, so he asks if we want to hear a story.
>From the look on his face and the glow of the fire I can tell it’s going to be a scary one.
>”Oh a night, much like tonight, a group of friends, much like this one, were lost in the woods on a camping trip. After hours of searching for shelter--none of them, being a trained eagle scout-- they stumbled across an abandoned cabin. They knocked at the door, but when there was no answer, and the temperature began to drop, they let themselves in. The cabin had only one room, and was empty except for a few pieces of furniture. It was dim inside, so it was hard to see the full interior, but as these youngsters looked around, they found that each wall of the cabin had a grotesque portrait of a human face, looking twisted and angry. Still, with no other options, and only a slight discomfort at the art choice, the group huddled up for the night. In the morning, though, they were shocked to see that the cabin had no portraits on the walls. Only windows.”
>We all kind of groan out approval, having heard it before, in the 6th grade.

>>17036048
>Haley volunteers to tell the next one
>”Okay, so this one isn’t so cheesy, and it doesn’t take place in the woods. It happened to a friend of mine, actually. When she was like six years old, her family got this great deal on an old house. It had been on the market for awhile, so the sellers were willing to concede a lot on their asking price. Well, one night, my friend was in bed, and she heard her mother calling her downstairs. She kind of ignored it at first, hoping she had misheard it, and could go on sleeping. But her mother kept calling her. And kept calling her. A little worried at this point, she got out of bed and began walking through the hall. She could still hear her mother calling for her, calling her “sweetie” and all this, from the kitchen downstairs. But as she was going through the hall, her mother’s bedroom door opened. Her mom grabbed her by the nightgown, terrified, and said ‘Don’t go down there. I heard it too.’
They called the cops, but there was no one else in the house. Afterwards they looked into the house’s history and found out that it had been on the market for so long, because a previous owner had murdered her daughter in the kitchen, and baked her in the oven afterwards.”
>”Eh, I don’t believe that at all,” Chad says, “Realtors have to disclose past crimes and stuff like that.”
>”Not if it wasn’t the immediate previous owners.”
>”Okay, but still. How did they call the police without going downstairs? Did ‘your friend’ have a cellphone ten years ago?
>”Jesus, Chad, it’s just a story. You don’t have to be a dick about it, just because yours sucked.”
>I don’t say anything through any of this, because I’m distracted by how pitch black the woods around us have gotten, and how Staci has just been sitting, turning over a stick in her hands, not looking at anyone telling the stories.

>>17036052
>”What if you were trapped somewhere for a really long time,” Staci cuts off Chad and Haley’s argument. She is speaking, slow and deliberately, like she’s finding each word individually, “And you didn’t know why you were trapped there, but all you wanted was to get out. What would you do to get out?”
>”Wait, I don’t understand,” Chad butts in, “Where am I trapped? Like a basement or something?”
>Staci doesn’t respond, but gives him the same blank stare she gave me earlier that day.
>From the distance we hear an animal squeel, like in pain or fear.
>We’re all at attention now, and suddenly realize that James is nowhere to be found.
>”What the fuck, where’s James?” Chad asks, trying to take charge of the situation.
>”I don’t know, I thought he was just over there, taking photos.” I point to the spot, just outside of camp, where I had last seen him.
>There’s another screech in the distance, louder and painful that the first. It’s coming from the direction of the cabin.
>We each grab as flashlight and run out searching for James.
>We run probably 500 yards away from our campsight, careful to stay in sight of each other.
>Haley, Chad and I are calling out his name, frantically.
>Staci is just kind of following us, pointing her flashlight at the ground.
>We haven’t heard any more noises since those first two screams, so we figure he can’t be this way.
>We double back to the campsite, so that we can search in another direction without getting turned around.
>We’re still calling out his name.
>On the way back to camp, my flashlight reflects off something on the ground. I go to check it out.
>It’s James’ camera.
>My panic is on high at this point.
>I show it to Chad and he doesn’t even try to rationalize.
>”Oh fuck.”

>>17036058
>Now we’re sprinting back to the campsite, screaming James’ name.
>We we get close to the fire, I see a shadowy figure sitting by our tent.
>I stop everyone from running and point it out.
>I see Chad grip his heavy, police-grade flashlight tighter.
>Knuckles white
>We slowly move forward. The person doesn’t seem to have noticed us, though I can’t imagine how. They have a hood up, and they’re just sitting, staring at the fire.
>About twenty feet away, I step on a twig, which snaps loudly.
>The figure at the campsite looks up, straight at me.
>”Oh hey guys.”
>It’s James.
>It’s James.
>”What the fuck dude, where have you been ?” I don’t even try to conceal the panic in my voice.
>”What do you mean? I just came back here and everyone was gone.”
>”Yea, cause you disappeared! And we heard screaming!”
>”I didn’t hear anything.” His voice is deadpanned.
>”How could you have not heard them? They were loud as fuck.”
>”I don’t know, I just didn’t. I was walking around. Then I decided to come back. I didn’t realize anything had happened.”
>Something is very wrong at this point. For one thing, I’ve never seen James with his hood up before. For another, I’ve never seen him without his camera, and he just dropped it in the woods? And the whole way he is speaking to us is just…. off.
>I hand him his camera.
>”Whatever dude, here’s your baby. I found it on the ground over there.”
>He looks a bit confused when I had it to him, but he takes it without questioning.
>”Thanks.”
>I look over to Chad and Haley. They’re as noped out as me. Even Staci looks spooked by it. She’s still not saying much, but she hasn’t stopped staring at him since we got back to the campsite.
>We all sit down again.
>”So, what were you doing before you left?” James asks.
>”We were uhh, telling scary stories,” Chad answers, because Haley and I are still too uncomfortable to engage.
>”Oh, cool. Who was telling?”

>>17036065
>”Well, Staci had just started one, when we heard. . .. whatever it was we heard.” Chad’s still trying to keep things normal, which I commend him for. But I can’t handle the weirdness, and I’m not about to listen to more scary stories on this level of alert.
>”Staci, what was your story?” James asks, turning his head fast to look at her.
>She opens her mouth to respond, but I cut her off,
>”I think we’re done with stories for the night.”
>”Yea, I agree,” Haley adds, “I think I’m gonna go to sleep.”
>”That’s probably a good idea,” Chad seconds. “Hey James, just uhh, just don’t go wandering off again okay?”
>”Okay.” James says,without smile, or emotion, or acknowledgement of the trouble he’s caused us.
>After Chad and Haley go into the tent, Staci turns away from the fire, and stares at the trees.
>I’m still upset with James, and concerned about him, but more than anything I want to know that he’s okay.
>I ask him if he got any good photos in the woods.
>He seems confused.
>I point to his camera, and some part of him begins to understand.
>He asks if I want to go through them with them.
>We start from the last ones I had seen, and move forward chronologically.
>Most of the photos are what I would have expected: fallen trees, moonlight through the leaves, our campfire from a distance, glowing in the dark.
>Then I we come to photos of another dead deer.
>It has the same pattern of mutilation as what we saw during that first hike, like it’s been turned inside out.
>The ribs are exposed and broken.
>There are no flies around the corpse.
>There are several photos of this deer, from different angles, with different focus.
>I try to take a closer look, but James clicks through them quickly.
>”Hey, wait, I want to check that one out a bit more.”
>James’ face shows no reaction to what I said, but his mouth puts out,
>”Wait.”
>The photos become a series of shots of trees again.

>>17036068
>Actually they seem to be shots of the same trees, zooming in on the distance.
>I realize that he turned the auto capture mode on the camera, and appears have been holding it by his side.
>Then it looks like he might have dropped his camera, because the images are blurring and from low to the ground.
>There are three photos in a row, from the ground, where James is partially in view, from the back.
>In the last of these there is a horizontal grey streak on the right side of the picture,
>I only see it for a moment before James clicks on to the photos the camera took lying on the ground, of the grass.
>There are dozens of these, each of them the same.Then the photos end.
>I turn the camera towards me, still in his hands, and scroll back to the last photo of James.
>I quickly zoom on the grey streak to the right,
>Though the picture is blurry from movement, and out of focus from the drop, I am certain that I see long, crooked fingers on the end of the streak, reaching for James.
>James takes the camera from me.
>”I think I’m going to get some more shots.”
>”Wait,” I protest, but he’s already walking away. “Wait, can let me see that again.”
>”Later,” is the only thing he says as he walks out of the fire light.
>He turns back to me, and I hear the shutter close.
>click, click, click
>I have no idea what to do with any of this.
>Suddenly, the shadows between the trees seem to start moving again.
>My head is feeling light and wavy, like I might pass out at any moment.
>”Staci?” I ask. She’s still facing away from the fire.
>”Yes?”
>”Will you be okay if I go to sleep now?”
>”Yes.”
>”Okay, just uhh, just don’t go anywhere okay?”
>”Where would I go?” She asks, without inflection or turning.
>”I don’t know. Just promise you won’t leave the fire tonight, okay?”
>”Okay.”
>I crawl into a tent and a surge of panic runs through my spine at its emptiness.

>>17036071
>I see movement to my left, and realize that Chad and Haley must have opted to share one of the smaller, zip-off sections.
>I ask if I can join them, and the three of us huddle together under the canvas.
>We all agree that something very weird is going on.
>None of us know what to do.
>I whisper to them about the photos I saw.
>Chad dismisses them, saying that it’s late and everyone is probably dehydrated, and that it’s best to wait until morning to make any decisions about things.
>Haley says she doesn’t know what it is, but there’s something scary about James now.
>The three of us cuddle together for warmth or security, and the swimming feeling in my head takes over.
>Everything goes black.
>At one point in the night, I wake, and peer out of the tent.
>The fire is out.
>James and Staci are sitting on opposite sides of the cold fire-pit, staring at each other in silence.
>I try to decide if I’m dreaming or not, but fade to darkness again before I do.

>>17036074
>Thursday morning.
>I can see my breath when I wake up.
>I grip my fingers a few times, to remind myself that they work, before unzipping the tent, and crawling outside.
>The sky is grey and oppressive, with a thick layer of clouds blocking out the morning sun.
>Our campsite is a littered mess; beer cans and snack bags are strew everywhere. A lot of them look mostly unfinished.
>I go to work picking the trash up, while I try to work through what I remember from last night.
>As a kid I would get scared a lot at night, and in the morning I would laugh it off, realizing that in my night panic I had missed one simple detail that explained whatever I found frightening.
>I can’t think of anything to laugh about now.
>I remember the photos James took last night, and realize I have to see them, now, before he can protest.
>I slowly unzip the main tent, and see James and Staci laying rigidly, side by side.
>I scan for a moment, and find his camera within arms reach.
>I slowly pull it out, and zip up the tent.
>To make sure I have enough time, I walk away from the campsite, leaving everyone asleep.
>I get about fifty yards away before I click the camera on.
>I go to check the photos.
>There are dozens of Staci, sitting by the dead fire-pit.
>Clicking backwards, every photo is the same, just a head-on shot of Staci, staring at the camera.
>I keep clicking back in time and the fire re-ignites, and grows, but still Staci is the same.
>These photos must have covered over an hour.
>Eventually I get to the spree of photos he took of my, before I went in the tent.
>My eyes look wild and unhinged. There is dirt all over my face, and my cheeks are gaunt and sharp.
>I have never seen myself look like this.
>I click to go back further, and the photos end.
>the photos end.
>There are no pictures of James in the woods.
>There are no pictures of the hike.
>No lake
>No shrine
>No dead deer.
>No cabin
>Just pictures of Staci and me from that night.

>>17036077
>I check to see if I can recover recently deleted files, and to my surprise, I can.
>The camera starts to load the recovered files, but is moving slowly.
>I see my breath as I exhale, and realize that this temperature is probably not good for the it.
>A battery icon flashes red for a moment, the screen goes black.
>fuck

>I walk back to the campsite and find everyone in the process of waking up.
>James asks why I took his camera, and I tell him I wanted to try to get some shots, but the battery died.
>He says I can hold onto it if I want.
>He’s never let me keep his camera before.
>We pack everything up in almost total silence, and hike back to the cabin.
>At one point during the hike back, Chad and I get far enough ahead of the others to whisper without being heard.
>I tell him about the photos being gone.
>I can see that he looks concerned, but writes it off, saying maybe James had an extra memory card or needed more space.
>Not even he believes that.

>When we get back to the cabin, Haley starts complaining of feeling ill.
>I take this opportunity to suggest that maybe we should head home a day early.
>Say I’m not feeling well either (I wasn’t).
>”No.”
>It’s from Staci. She said it quickly, like a command.
>Chad and I give her a puzzled look.
>”It looks like it’s going to storm soon.”
>Chad and I look outside.
>She’s actually right. The clouds have grown darker, angrier, and the roads we took here could easily be flooded.
>We agree to stay, and wait out the storm.
>James asks if we want to go for a hike, like we did the first day.
>”I don’t know,” Chad says, “We should all probably stay in the cabin. There’s no point in anyone getting caught out there in the rain.”
>”Oh,” James replies.
>The room is thick with silence.

>>17036083
>I realize that there is a definite split, with Chad, Haley and I standing close together, and James and Staci each about nine feet away.
>Haley says she’s gonna go lay down.
>Chad decides to make some lunch.
>I stay in the living room with the other two.
>I can’t stop looking at them.
>James walks over to the record collection and starts flipping through them, mechanically.
>There are bruises on the back of his hand and neck.
>I ask him what happened. He responds without looking at me.
>”I fell.”
>Staci takes out her phone again.
>We still don’t have any signal out here, but she scrolls through it, reading intently.
>I nonchalantly walk behind her to see her screen.
>She’s scrolling through text conversations, backwards.
>I start to pack up the non-essentials, hoping to get out of here as soon as the storm passes.
>James pulls a record out:
>Ella Fitzgerald: Classic Hits
>The record starts with a high-pitch scratching, a moment of silence, and then Ella Fitzgerald’s voice, distorted and screeching.
>James just stands in front of the record player, looking at it while she screeches on.
>I walk over and adjust the speed to the lower setting.
>Her voice smoothes out.
>While I’m alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me
>A thunderclap breaks across the sky and opens up a downpour.
>The afternoon creeps by, tense as needles.
>We eat, listen to the record, and watch the rain, mostly in silence.
>Lightning flashes in the distance, and I count the seconds until we hear the boom.
>When the music stops no one bothers to change it.
>Chad washes the dishes and packs his own bags.
>I try to read, but can’t focus on anything.
>James asks if we want to go down to the lake.
>It’s pouring down rain outside.
>Chad chuckles at first, then realizes he’s serious.
> “Uhh, no dude, we’re in the middle of a lightning storm. That’s not a good idea.”
>”Oh.”
>Another flash of lightning across the sky, this time much closer.

>>17036083
>Suddenly I remember the camera, and the recovered files.
>I ask James for the charger.
>He’s standing, looking out the window, says it’s in his bag.
>I dig through his stuff real quick, find it, and plug in the camera.
>It’s gonna take a minute to charge.
>I go over to the back window.
>The rain is so heavy I can’t even see the trees, thirty feet away.
>It’s pitch black outside.
>I check on the camera: still no charge.
>I go over the Staci again.
>She’s still scrolling through text messages. She’s gotten almost two years back now.
>I ask her what she’s doing.
>”Just reading.”
>She’s scrolling backwards.
>She’s scrolling backwards and her eyes are moving over every word, backwards.
>I hear the cheery musical notes of the camera powering on.
>Rush over to it.
>Open files.
>Scroll past the dozens of Staci.
>Scroll past me.
>See the recovered files, there’s about fifty of them.
>Each of them is a headshot of James.
>In each of them he’s making a different face.
>Not goofy faces, just expressions. Smiling, laughing, frowning, looking disgusted, looking frightened, looking surprised etc. But none of them look right.
>For one thing, his eyes are sunken and hollow looking.
>More than that though, in each photo, in each expression, while the rest of his face shifts, his eyes stay the same.
>His eyes are the same in every photo.
>There are over fifty of these.
>I feel adrenaline shoot down my spine.
>He’s still just staring out the window.
>I look over to him, trying to figure out what he’s staring at.
>I realize that the light from the room and the darkness outside kind of makes a blurry grey reflection of him on the window in front of his face.
>I glance at the reflection.

>>17036088
>It’s hard to see, because it’s blurry and distorted by the rain, so I squint to make it out better.
>When I see it I feel my gut drop out my ass.
>It’s the same, grey, sunken face I saw in the bathroom window.
>It’s standing, face to face with James.
>I jerk back a bit, even though I’m across the room.
>Then, while James stays still, the grey face turns and looks right at me.
>I feel the pressure of those vacant, sunken holes.
>It’s like a calling.
>Lightning flashes in through the window;thunder blasts, and everything goes dark
>The power’s out.
>Staci’s face is the only thing I can see, lit by the glow of her phone as she looks up, towards James and the window.
>I struggle to get my phone out for a flashlight.
>When I get it on, James is standing in the middle of the room, staring at me wide-eyed.
>I shine it at the window, but there’s nothing there.
>”Chad! CHAD!” I call out.
>”Hey, hey, I’m right here,” he says, clicking on his flashlight, which does a much better job of illuminating the room.
>”I guess the storm knocked the power out.” he continued.
>”Well no shit,” I snap at him. “Look, I definitely saw someone or something, in the fucking window again. I know I did. And this motherfucker was looking right at it.”
>I point at shoot an accusatory finger at James, who is still standing in the center of the room.
>Staci is standing, too, at this point. She and James just look at me blankly.
>Chad starts to say something, but is cut off by a scream from Haley’s room.
>We rush in to see her crouched in corner, clutching a blanket, screaming, staring at the window.
>Chad tries to calm her down.
>I look to where she’s staring.
>I shine the light from my phone onto the window.
>On the right side of the glass, I see a fading handprint.
>The fingers on the handprint are grotesquely elongated.
>After a second it’s completely faded away.

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>>17036091
>I turn back to Haley, who is hysterical, still staring at the window.
>Chad tries to get her to the main room, slowly getting her to her feet.
>He shines his light towards the bedroom door.
>James is standing in it.
>”What’s going on?”
>James voice sounds like nothing. Like it’s coming from nowhere and no one.
>”I don’t know,” Chad answers. “Some weird shit is happening. Haley is freaked out. We should all just sit in the living room together.”
>”What’s happened?” James asks, not moving from the doorway.
>”I don’t know what’s happening, James!” Chad is no longer keeping the frustration from his voice.
>James face ticked a bit when Chad said his name.
>”But I’m trying to figure it out,” Chad continued, slowly, “which is why we should all go to the living room.”
>James looks over to me, and tilts his head like a question.
>”James,” I say, locking eyes with him, feeling a tension I’ve never experienced before, “please move out of the way.”
>My heart is pounding in my ears, a booming over the pattering rain on the window.
>Silently, James steps back, and moves to the living room.
>Chad walks out with Haley, who is still crying, but trying to stifle it.
>Once we’re all in the living room, Chad pulls out the electric lanturn we brought, and sets it in the middle.
>Chad and Haley sit on the couch, while we try to get her to talk.
>She says she doesn’t know what happened. She woke up when the thunder sounded the first time, but decided to stay in bed.
>”Then,” she managed to stammer out, “right before the power went out, when the lightning flashed, I saw this. . . this thing in the window, like a demon staring at me. . . It didn’t have eyes, but I knew it was staring at me. . .and. . . and it had a hand up, like it was trying to get near, but couldn’t because of the glass.”

>>17036095
>That’s finally enough for Chad. He stands up and turns to Staci and James.
>”Alright, you two, what the fuck is going on here.”
>While this is happening, I run to each door and window, making sure they are closed and locked.
>The deadbolt to the front door is ice cold, stinging my fingers as I turn it.
>James and Staci are in the middle of the living room.
>They just look confused.
>”Staci,” she locks eyes with Chad when he says her name “what happened to you that night you were outside.
>”Nothing. I just went for a walk.”
>”Well, what happened to your neck?”
>I’m pacing behind them, and notice for the first time this a massive bruise on the side of her neck. I don’t know how I missed it. Maybe she had it covered before.
>”I don’t know.”
>”Fucking Christ!” Chad throws his hands up, resting them on his head, and then joins me pacing.
>He asks each of them a few more questions like this.
>Their answers are always “I don’t know,” or “what do you mean?”
>Staci doesn’t move, but she’s stops looking at Chad. She’s turns to stare out the window.
>”What the fuck do you mean you don’t know??” Chad is yelling at James now, getting in his face. “You don’t know what happened to your hands. You don’t know where you went last night. You have to fucking know!”
>With the last line, he pushes James’ chest.
>James falls backwards on the ground, but stands back up without saying anything.
>”What about that?” Chad says, closing the distance between James and himself. “Do you know about that? Do remember that?”
>Chad pushes James against the wall by the front door.
>Still, Staci isn’t looking at them.
>”Say something!” Chad yells, as he grabs James’ shirt and slams him against the wall.

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>>17036099
>When James hits the wall, several things happened at once.
>The whole cabin shakes.
>All of the lights flash on.
>The record player beings to play again, screeching louder and faster than before, sounding nothing like Ella Fitzgerald.
>Haley lets out a long continuous scream.
>I look to the windows. With the lights back on, it’s possible to see out again, for a few feet.
>In the windows, in each of the windows surrounding the cabin, there is are grey figures, with no faces and sunken eye sockets, pressing their long, deformed hands against the glass.
>The record player is screaching out a demonic version of “Puttin’ on the Ritz”, too high and too fast.
>Chad lets go of James and kind of stumbles back into the couch, staring at the faces in the windows.
>Haley is still screaming.
>Somehow, despite all of this, I hear Staci say,
>”I think we should go for a hike.”
>James moves towards the front door, with his hand out towards the lock.
>Without thinking about it, I grab an empty bottle from the table and smash it against his head.
>He falls to the ground, unconscious.
>IF YOU’RE BLUE AND YOU DON’T KNOW WHERE TO GO-- the record player screeches out.
>The figures in the glass are barely moving.
>They just stare at us, stroking the glass longingly.
>I drag James’ unconscious body over to the rest of the group.
>Staci still doesn’t look concerned.
>I stand next to Chad for a second, trying to comprehend the situation.
>We can all see them.
>We can clearly all see them.
>We can see them and they can see us, and they want to get inside.
>DIFFERENT TYPES WHO WEAR A DAY COAT, PANTS WITH STRIPES AND CUTAWAY COAT, PERFECT FITS. . .
>I scan from window to window, feeling paralyzed.
>I can’t decide what to do. I can barely even think about what’s happening.
>DRESSED UP LIKE A MILLION DOLLAR TROOPER, TRYING HARD TO LOOK LIKE GARY COOPER. SUPER DUPER. . .

>>17036104
>Then, without any of us doing anything, the figures take their hands from the glass, and they just kind of move away.
>I have no other explanation than that.
>DRESSED UP LIKE A--DRESSED UP LIKE A--DRESSED UP LIKE A--DRESSED UP LIKE A--
>I unplug the fucking record player, stop the skipping, and we sit in a new quiet.
>The rain is lighter, but still pattering on the windows.
>I go back to the couch with Haley and Chad.
>Staci is in the chair beside us.
>James in unconscious on the floor.
>Chad checks to make sure he’s still breathing and alive and all that.
>And then we just sit there.
>None of us take our eyes off of the windows.
>While the rain lessens and then stops,
>while the night creeps on and on,
>we keep staring at the windows.
>No more figures appear in the glass.
>At some point during the night, James wakes up.
>He’s still being weird, but he does move towards the door or anything, so we just sit with him.
>He says he doesn’t remember anything from that night.
>About an hour after it gets light, we check outside.
>We haven’t seen anything for maybe six hours now, so we figure it’s clear.
>We quickly pack up the car, and drive away.
>As we leave, I glance back at the cabin.
>In the little grass patch between the cabin and the woods, there are three new deer bodies.
>Each of them is turned inside out, like the others.
>That makes five total.

>The drive home is terrible and silent.

>>17036109
After that trip, James and Staci kind of disappeared. I would see them at school sometimes, but only ever talking to each other. They stopped responding to their friends’ phone calls. They didn’t go to any dances. They dropped out of all their clubs and stuff. I heard a rumor that James never even graduated, but I don’t know if that’s true, and I never looked into it. I heard other rumors too. Like, that each of their pets mysteriously disappeared, one by one, shortly after our return. Or that James still takes a million pictures, but they are all of Staci now.

Chad and I are still in contact, today. When we first got back, I tried to talk to anyone I could about what happened. Everyone just kind of laughed it off as a scary story I was taking too seriously. When I insisted that it happened, I could see their eyes shift a bit. If I pressed too hard, I would get vacant stares and questions like “do you need someone to talk to about this?” Sometimes I bring it up to Chad, but the last time I did he told me to just forget about it. Neither of us have heard from Haley since graduation.

I’m not sure where else to go with this. I lost my best friend and the girl I thought I was in love with, and no one believes me how. Sometimes, I don’t know if I believe me either.

So what do you think?

The fact that james keeps taking pictures of staci creeps the fuck out of me

Someone make a movie out of this

Cool reading

Thanks for bed time story

Interesting stuff, OP. One of the few recent stories on /x/ I've read from the beginning until the end.

Holy fuck way too spooky. Nice read, why the hell did I choose 3am for it tho

Jesus christ, OP, you're not fucking John Carpenter. Hell, you're not even Wes Craven.

Picking a song that would be in the public domain was smart, though. Best of luck with the official pitch meeting.

Damn dude

OP is not a fag.

Fuuuck that was intense

Is there a general consensus that this is worth reading, then? Seems lengthy as fuck, and I'm willing, but only if it's worth it.

>>17036393
Basically skip to a few posts in. It's pretty much your average skinwalker story plunked into a painfully straightforward 80s slasher movie.

It's not, strictly speaking, bad, it's just very obvious and simple.

I liked it op chad tenouttaten best character

>>17036109
>That makes five total.

Took me to there to finally get what the relevance was. Bravo OP.

Bump fantastic sp00kz

Based op

Definitely one of the best stories I've read on /x/.

kinda cool/10

So this is not real? Op want to be novel writer?

Reads like Goosebumps.

>>17036749
I'd doubt it.
Just a cool guy supplying some spoops.

>>17035881
Kek'd irl at the kitchen bit

10/10 someone screencap and save this

>tfw there's cool OC
Feels good man. Also nice job opie.
Screencap pls

>>17035862
ND has no skinwalkers, just an fyi. I'm native and my rez is in that state; better take your story and place it in AZ.

That was really a great story. U could definitely turn it into a scary novel with ease! Really got to me during The climax of the final room part! Bravo, if u would like some pointers for expansion I'd be honored.

>>17035862
>her official title is dumb and complicated
That's a hell of a title.

So what's the deal with the deers? Are there some entities that use the deer carcasses to mimic you?

Bravo op, that was a great read. Let us know if you ever writte something like this again.

Also Chad a fucking best

>>17037733
ND doesn't have much of anything to be honest. This place is booooooring

>>17036906
>>17037041
I just did.

Is this real or a script by a film school fag.

>that makes 5
What do you mean?
I'm not versed in American thriller stuff
Is there something I'm missing?

>>17038376
It's a script. OP? Maybe "Chad" is a little bit on the nose as a character name.

>>17038427
The "inside out deer carcass" is the skinwalker's deer suit, they take it off so they can take the form of one of the characters. The shadowy shape the main character saw in the photograph was the naked form of the creature, lurking in the dark.

>>17035862
bump for spoops

>>17035862
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>>17036109
>who are you quoting?

Even though I picked exactly what was going to happen when Staci was outside. Still a really good read.

>>17038259
Chad's a total bro.
/r9k/ can eat shit

"Fucking Chad" lol. Good read. I couldn't put my phone down!

Nice story. Could somebody cap it?

>>17037733
Are skinwalkers only specific to certain places?

>>17038360
could you post it?

>>17036113
>Chad and I are still in contact, today.

I think I pick up what you're laying down, OP. I see the true horror of this story.

>nerdy best friend gets eaten by spoopwalkers
>now your new best friend is a fucking dudebro named CHAD

>>17039263

The real story here.

So first it's about some autistic fuck who's crushing on a girl way out of his league, then turns into your generic skinwalker bullshit.

Meh. 4/10. Next time try writing something more original.

>>17039069
/x/'s "skinwalkers" are not real, and they appropriated the name from Navajo witch doctors.

i liked it a lot

I think the awkwardness is at the very least realistic. Characterization wasn't awful either. My real issue with these stories is that the characters always come back, but are strangely different because they are the skinwalkers. I don't get the motive in going into the car with them, especially after getting brained with a beer bottle. overall pretty good

>>17040324
Because at that point the only three options are
A: Kill someone because they're acting strangely. Not exactly a reasonable option to a person actually in the story, even though we know how the story goes. It would be like if, in the part of the zombie movie where everybody still thinks "Oh, he's just drunk" they straight up shot a zombie in the head anyway.
B: Leave them in the woods. Not always an option, but seems more reasonable than a lot of the shit people do in these stories anyway.
C: Take the skinwalker home so they can skinwalk the victim's parents or whatever, I dunno.

nice but too much dialogue, thanks for sharing.

>>17040339
too much logic for a horror story

>kill all at the first sight of blood

Great read OPIE.

>>17037733
AZ? for real? i live in tucson and i was planning on going camping up on mt. lemmon. fuck you man, now i might cancel

>>17038672
>fag

Good read, but full of cliches and very predictable

>>17035862
This board has been pretty lame the past few weeks...OP has remedied that nicely.

And like the other Anon said, this was one of the first lengthy stories I've read the whole way through, and was eager to as well.

You're a good writer. If you ever go pro, which you could, keep the Lake Oahe title so I'll know it was you and can buy your books.

Bravo, sir.

Story isn't original by any means but I thought it was a refreshing take on the spookwalker genre. The characterization early on was a nice touch, although somehow I liked Chad from the get-go.

Overall I'd give it a 8/10. OP should write a horror novel.

>>17035862
Liar liar set the faggot on fire.
I remember the golden days of x
I remember when people actually had interesting discussions, now it's an Internet psych ward, which is why I migrated to pol

man, maybe I'm just autistic but I think I could read skinwalker stories till the end of time

Same premise and outcome every time but golly I love me some skinwalkers

This one was pretty funny too at first with all the spaghetti, chad is a fucking bro too

>>17035872
>lines of best fit
>senior in high school
>basic algebra shit
Okay Anon.

>>17037733
We got them in the Appalachians as well. East TN here, have never had an experience of things looking like people or taking their place, but the description of these 'skinwalkers' (not a fan of the name, knowing what skinwalkers really were/are) have been spotted quite often and have attacked people. Those gray, dead looking, tall, scrawny mother fuckers, god damn...

Good story OP. I might be inclined to believe you might be telling the truth. It's hard to tell these days, between the fact that creepy shit like that really does lurk in the woods and people taking real stories as the new fad to expand upon. Should have kept the camera for proof though. 10/10 if real, 9/10 if fiction.

>>17046458
then why don't you go the fuck back to /pol/, you shitposting faggot?

>Liar liar set the faggot on fire.
are you 12 and what is this?

Did anyone archive/screencap the post?

>>17047031

basic algebra shit is used in every subsequent form of mathematics.
>statistics
>calculus
>mfw

This was the best things I've read on /x/ ever.

>inb4 "newfag hurrdurr"

>>17047254

newfag hurrdurr

nice OP! reminds me of the old days on /x/

>>17036436
Yeah, the fact that they literally wore deer skin was pretty cool. Now they're all cozy in some ape skin. They'll have plenty of trouble fitting into human society though. It's not really an escape for them is it? Not much of an upgrade.

>>17040339
You trick them. Tell them type going out for more supplies then you'll go on their precious "hike". Never come back. Once you're a good distance away call some park rangers or whatever and tell then your friends went missing. You left the area to find some reception, amiright.

If it were me I'd grill Stacy on what she meant by trapped and gotten more lore out of her. Their motive is not clear enough.

>>17046084
AZ is safe as fuck unless you're french and don't bring water with you.

>>17047076
Middle TN here, ever hear any stories about them popping up in this part of the state? I feel like the Plateau would be a good place for them to hide.

Great story OP.

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>>17037733
Would ND have a copy of battletoads I could purchase?

I feel like ive read this one before

>>17048693
same location

there's a lot of wooded area out here, plenty of room for things to hide

>>17047076
>>17048693
>>17049476
How does it feel to be a couple of roleplaying faggots, AKA the metastasized cancer that killed /x/?

I knew the outcome as soon as I saw Staci was acting weird, but it was still fun to read. I almost stayed after work just to finish before going home.