Camp of Horrors

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
A camp with a deadly secret

Submitted: October 21, 2012

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Submitted: October 21, 2012

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Prologue
The room was small, enough for two or three people at the most, and held two computers, several speakers and various equipment. A woman with long brown hair and big blue eyes sat in a large leather chair, nervously twisting a ring on her left ring finger over and over again. She had been in the small editing room many times, since being an audiovisual and communications major. But this time, she was there for a completely different reason.
She sat facing an empty chair and a camera, making the already small room cramped. What was a little odd to her was why the camera was on when she was just sitting there, waiting.
She straightened up from her hunched over position in the chair when the door opened and two men walked into the room. The first one was tall, Hollywood movie handsome with dark brown hair and expressive brown eyes, and immaculately dressed in slacks and a button down shirt. The second was a short, squat man that wore a loud Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, and flip flops.
"Miss Hannah Jenkins?" asked the first one, holding his hands out to her. Hannah smiled widely at the handsome man.
"Yes. Hello," she replied, shaking his outstretched hand, buffering his move closer to her. She recognized his voice from the multiple phone calls over the past month. "And call me Hannah, please."
"I'm Doctor Michael Waters and you may call me Michael. I'm with the Midwest Paranormal Research Society," he said taking the seat across from her and out of the camera's view.
"Ah. Nice to meet you," she replied as the second man took up the minuscule area behind the camera.
"I'm Todd Fleming, camera and tech guy," said the second man with a wide smile and wave. Hannah smiled and waved back.
"Can you state your name for the camera and a few details about yourself," said Michael, putting on glasses that gave him a rather scholarly look before pulling out a pad and pen from a bag that was underneath the chair he sat it.
"My name is Hannah Edith Jenkins. I'm twenty five years old, an audiovisual and communications major here at Northwestern University, Chicago, Illinois," she said looking at the camera, becoming slightly nervous again. "Um...yes. That's me."
"Thank you, Hannah. Now, I would like to talk to you about Camp Eliason," said Michael, watching her reaction closely. Hannah froze, the smile on her face quickly replaced by a cold hard look. She leaned back, the leather creaking under the sudden weight change. She looked away to stare blankly at the wall, war waging in her mind. This was one subject she didn't want to speak about. But she knew it was time to tell. Michael sensed her stonewalling as she had not spoken for nearly five minutes. He opened his mouth to end the interview, thinking that she wasn't going to talk to him about the camp. He sighed, figuring he was at a dead end again. Then she opened her mouth and spoke, not even looking at them.
"Camp Eliason for Gifted Children in Upstell, Illinois. It was a children's camp designed specifically children gifted in art and music. And it was a good camp with a good reputation and a good program. It could foster the best out of kids. They handled kids from ages six to eighteen. One reputation was being the best. The second one...was a little more less known. They were known losing one or two kids during the duration of the summer. But they were always found, scared shitless and freezing cold. Two things for sure though- the kids were either nine or ten and wearing a long white sleeping gown. Old kind, ankle long." Hannah finally looked at the two men in the eyes. They were both leaning forward as if they couldn't get enough about what she was talking about. She sneered in disgust and annoyance, going back to turning the ring around her finger over and over again, before continuing to talk.
"July seventh, 1996," she continued, watching them nearly dance in place for the information she was about share. "Sixty four people- kids, counselors and staff. The day moved normally for the camp, nothing too special about it. When night fell and everyone went to bed, something...happened. When morning dawned, they say, that little section of earth was so still as if it was holding its breath. The little town just down the road a bit from the camp sent a sheriff out there as it was too damn quiet. By nightfall, the place was crawling with police, ambulances, medical examiners; everyone really.'
'In the end, they found sixty three bodies. No details were released on what state anything was in. The place tore families apart- mine was no different. No one knows why or how. I don't think the answers to those questions will ever be found. The camp was immediately shut down," she said, her voice soft and neutral, as if she was telling them a story and not actual facts.
"What about now? What's going on up at the camp now?" asked Michael, writing down notes on his pad quickly.
"Still closed. A few ghost hunting teams and adventurous teens go up there. They say they can hear the camp like it's still open as they make their way up the drive, but when you get through the archway, there's nothing going on." She paused. "You do realize you can get this all off of the Internet, right?"
"I know. And the whistling?"
"Local legend."
"You said there was sixty four people at the camp, but sixty three bodies," said Todd. Hannah nodded.
"There was one survivor. They were found in the old house that the original owners lived in, but no one was allowed into due to safety reasons and all that. They were found in an upstairs bedroom, in shock and wearing the traditional white sleeping gown. But this time, the hem and their feet to their ankles was covered in blood. Her name...was Holly Jenkins."
"Your..." prompted Michael.
"Sister."
"Tell me about her?"
"I have a picture of her. I brought a few, like you asked. This is one of the few of her I have left," said Hannah taking a small group of photos from her bag at her feet. She went through them quickly until she found one that she was looking for and handed it to Michael. "She was bright, vibrant. Could light up an entire room with just her smile. A prodigy on the piano and could sing like an angel too."
"Good God," said Michael, looking at the picture, then back at Hannah. Hannah smiled again.
"Molly's my twin sister. We're identical twins."
"Wow," said Todd, zooming in on the picture briefly before going back to Hannah.
"What's the connection between you and the camp? Why were you not there that summer but your sister was?" asked Michael, handing the picture back to her.
"That was our second year attending Camp Eliason. I was there for a few days, but came down with a cold of all things. My parents picked me up, but left my sister. I went home to get better, she stayed there to get better at the piano. I was home when it happened."
"Could we talk to Molly too?" asked Michael, anticipation crawling through his veins. Hannah nearly choked on her own breath. Were they this obtuse; had they not heard? She shook her head at their lack of knowledge. Might as well just show them, she thought. Then perhaps they will understand more.
"Even better. I'll take you to her," she said standing and brushing invisible dust off of her legs.
"Wonderful," replied Michael, also standing.
~~
"I'm surprised she's so cooperative with us," said Todd as they followed Hannah's car out of the university's parking lot, his camera bouncing between the back of her car and Michael driving the large SUV.
"Me too. For a second there, I thought the interview was a bust- like normal. I wasn't even aware that Molly was her twin sister, though I should have. I've seen enough pictures of Molly."
"Definitely a twist to all of this. How reliable is Hannah though?"
"She hasn't lied to us so far."
"Yes, but she could have gotten all from the internet."
"True, but she knows about the sleeping gowns and what Molly had on her feet. That information I had to break into a police records office to get. And now, she's leading us to the elusive Molly."
"Where do you think she's taking us?" asked Todd, briefly filming the houses they were passing by quickly before getting back to Michael.
"Dunno. Could be their parent's house or Maple Creek Mental Hospital- the one place that I hate now."
"Rude assholes," muttered Todd.
"Anywhere really," said Michael as they slowed down and made a left turn off of the main road they were on. Todd zoomed in on the sign over the archway as they passed under.
"Or...Rosehill Cemetary," replied Todd focusing back on Michael as they parked next to Hannah's car.
"Is she dead?" '
"Who knows. Maybe this place is important to Molly," said Michael as they climbed out of their car to join Hannah who was stepping out of her car as well. "I hope she's alive. I want to know the story. Her story."
"This way," she said waving them after her. She moved quickly through the place, going for a very specific spot.
"Where are we going?" asked Michael, following her closely. Todd had to jog to keep up with her, sweeping his camera over the fairly good sized graveyard. The grass was incredible green and meticulous. Grey stone of all sizes and shapes marred the green as trees sprouted here and there, changing the landscape from being too monotonous and of only two colors of green and grey. Suddenly Hannah turned without a word in reply, looking for a large angel headstone, one of the few that stood above the ground and not like the normal square ones that filled the cemetary.
"Look," said Michael slowing down to point to some graves as they walked passed. "These are some of the sixty three."
"Whoa," said Todd filming a few as he moved after them. Hannah stopped, then waited for them to catch up with her.
"Meet Molly," she said waving her hand towards the angel headstone, her voice breaking a bit. She didn't want to be there. Even after a year, the death of her sister was hard for her. It was like a part of her was dead and buried in the ground beneath her feet.
"Wait...she's dead?" said Michael, surprise echoing in his voice. "Actually dead?"
"About a year," said Todd filming the huge headstone. "Says so right here."
"Camp Eliason kept my sister in a mental hospital for fourteen years. A year ago, they deemed her well enough to release her into my parents. A week after her release, I found her in my dorm room in the middle of the night, hovering over me. Her gave me her most prized possession," said Hannah, holding her arms around her stomach as if she was warding off a cold chill. Todd turned his camera on her, catching the grief that could not be hidden.
"Which was?" said Michael as he looked closely at the gravestone.
"Her ring. Yes, Molly is dead. Sorry to disappoint you that you can't speak with her," she apologized and turned to leave.
"What happened?" pressed Michael, putting a hand on her arm, stopping her.
"She committed suicide by jumping off the roof of my dorm building. God, I've never seen someone run that fast up stairs or her move that fast," she replied facing the gravestone again, then at Michael. Her voice was soft and solemn. "So when are we going to Camp Eliason?"


© Copyright 2018 Evelyn Knight. All rights reserved.

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