It's Campin'

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

Featured Review on this writing by Rob73

I love writing short horror stories for the Halloween season. It's such a fun time to write something gory, or silly or scary.

 Jimmy twisted the bottle cap off his eighth beer. He flicked the bottlecap into the campfire. It  clinked against the large burning logs before disappearing into the flames. Jimmy took a long drink of  beer, smacked his lips happily and belched under his breath. 

 “ ’Scuse me,” said Jimmy. 
 “You’re gross,” said Connie, “I could smell that over here.” 
 “Hey, I tried to be cool about it,” said Jimmy. He lit a cigarette and blew the blue smoke up into  the night sky. The smoke mingled with the campfire smoke and embers as they drifted up toward the stars.

 “It’s fine. It’s campin’. We’re living in the wilderness now,” said Mac. 
 “We’re only like, 25 minutes outside of the city. I wouldn’t exactly call it the wilderness,” said Jennifer.
 “Hey, killjoy, stop nit-picking,” said Mac. 
 “Sorry,” said Jennifer, “just miss my bed, and bathroom, and slippers, and food that doesn’t taste like charcoal.” 

 Mac poked at the campfire with a long stick sending orange embers up into the overhanging tree branches.

 “Careful, you don’t want to start a forest fire,” said Jennifer. 

 Jimmy rolled his eyes at Mac. Jimmy took another sip of beer and another long drag on his cigarette. Mac poked the fire again and sent more embers flying.

 Jennifer just stared at the fire. She sighed heavily. 

 “You know that Jimmy and I have been coming out here to camp since we were kids, right? I mean, if you didn’t want to come with us you should have said so,” said Mac. 
 “What the hell does that mean,” asked Jennifer, “What does he mean Jimmy?” 

 “Don’t drag me into this,” said Jimmy, “I like having a sexy woman in my tent.” 
 “Thank you, sweetheart,” said Connie, “Now stop drinking so much and love me.” 
 “Not just yet baby. We’ve got to wait for the wolf-whistler,” said Jimmy. 

 Jennifer stood up and faced Mac. She was wrapped in a chic serape and was clearly not enjoying camping. “Well,...” she said to Mac, hands on her hips. This conversation had been stewing all afternoon. It was time for it to bubble over.

 “Babe, listen, I’m sorry. It’s just that, you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself very much and it’s something that we, me and Jimmy, look forward to all year so it’s just like, bumming me out you’re not enjoying yourself,” said Mac.

 “Well then, maybe next time I won’t come,” said Jennifer. She flipped the serape over her shoulder and stomped away towards the tent she and Mac were sharing.

 “Aw baby,” said Mac as he chased after her towards the tent. 

 “She does not like camping,” said Connie. 
 “It’s pronounced ‘campin”,” said Jimmy, “There’s no ‘G’ at the end of campin’.” 
 “Shut up and kiss me you wilderness nerd,” said Connie. 


 Jimmy smiled and flicked his cigarette into the roaring campfire and leaned over towards Connie. They had a quick peck on the lips.

 “You taste like a sexy ashtray,” said Connie. 
 “Just how you like it,” said Jimmy. 

 Jimmy leaned back in his folding chair and looked up at the starry night sky. He took another sip of beer. Connie poured herself another glass of wine and tucked her feet under herself on her chair. She pulled the blanket over her knees.

 “Jimmy, what did you mean when you said we had to wait for the wolf-whistler,” asked Connie. 

 Jimmy slowly looked away from the sky and back at Connie. She looked lovely in the firelight, blonde hair peeking out from under her cute little beanie hat. He eyes were icy blue in the firelight and Jimmy felt something he hadn’t felt for her in a long time, something like love, but not quite. A desire. 

 “The wolf-whistler. It just this thing. This silly thing Mac and I used to do. When we were younger,” said Jimmy.
 “Well, what is it? What’s so silly about it,” asked Connie. “Are you guys running around naked, howling at the moon?” 

 Jimmy smiled and he reached into his pocket and took out his pack of cigarettes. He offered one to Connie but she refused. He lit the cigarette and took a long drag. He exhaled into the campfire.

 “You wouldn’t like it. It’s just something silly. I mean, it’s not that I’m not proud of it, it’s just... well, I don’t think you’d get it,” said Jimmy.
 “Oh my god shy boy, just tell me already,” said Connie. 

 Jimmy sighed and took another sip of his beer. He took another drag on his cigarette. 

 “Are you sure you want to know,” asked Jimmy. 
 “Yes already,” exclaimed Connie. 
 “The Wolf-Whistler is this old hermit like man. Maybe he’s some sort of ancient God really, but we don’t know is name. He comes out this time of year from the woods and… well anyway, we owe him a sacrifice. So, Mac and I, well, we oblige him,” said Jimmy. 

 There was some rustling by the tents but Connie didn’t notice it really. Something in her head just pushed it off as Jennifer and Mac just fooling around, maybe making up.

 “What are you talking about,” asked Connie. 
 “Well, you see, for years now, hundreds of years actually, Mac and me have been taking women up to this very spot with us and murdering them. Once we have the women completely skinned and drained of all their blood, we make an offering to the wolf-whistler, who then grants us immortality,” said Jimmy. 

 “What,” asked Connie, “You’re kidding, right? Well it’s not funny.” 

 Mac appeared next to the campfire. He had wrapped Jennifer’s serape around his waist, but was otherwise naked and covered with blood. 

 “We never said it was supposed to be funny,” said Mac. 

 Jimmy cleared his throat and exhaled another plume of smoke. 

 “I did say it might be silly,” said Jimmy as he tossed his empty beer bottle into the woods. 
 “You said it was silly?” asked Mac. 
 “Yeah, sorry. I was not sure how to tell this one. I think I actually like her,” said Jimmy. 
 “Oh. Well. A little late for that now right,” said Mac. 

 Connie tried to get up from the folding chair but her legs had fallen asleep so she tumbled out onto the dirty ground in front of the fire. In the distance she could hear branches cracking through the woods and a low howling.

 “He’s coming,” said Mac. 
 “Yeah. Sorry sweetheart,” said Jimmy. 

 Jimmy grabbed her by her sweater and pulled her up just as the trees overhead parted with a chilling crack.


Submitted: October 20, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Michael J. Hebel. All rights reserved.

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A scary, dramatic, short horror story.

Thu, October 21st, 2021 3:46am


Thank you for checking it out!

Wed, October 20th, 2021 9:05pm

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