Good afternoon, House of Madness campers:
With all the terrors nature has to offer, sometimes the most frightening things in the woods aren't meant to be seen......or encountered. As always, hope you like reading as much as I enjoy writing!
The Tent
"Ready?" Dave asked as he put his backpack in the trunk of his Civic and closed the trunk. "As ready as I'll ever be." Scott replied nervously. "Yo, don't be such a wuss, bro, I've been camping in Tuckerman's Woods since I was eleven and I'm still here to tell the tales." Dave said after a chuckle. "Yeah, but there's bears out there….." "Oh, shut the fuck UP! Dave yelled, followed by "If you think a bear is gonna waste his time on your scrawny ass……" "OK, ok, I get it, stop being such a dick." Scott insisted, and just like that, the two were off on a weekend adventure into Tuckerman's Woods, never to be seen again.
"We walk from here!" Dave said as he put the car in park and popped the trunk. "How long a walk is it?" Scott asked, as he started putting on his backpack and swapped his Nikes for some Merrells. "Not that far, maybe an hour and a half; we'll be downing brewskies and munching shrooms long before the sun goes down, I promise." Dave said, and the two friends headed off into the woods. After about two hours, Dave put a hand on Scott's shoulder and told him "This is the spot! Let's set up camp and get fuuuuuuuuuucked up, broski!", to which there was no argument. After the tent was set up, and the fire was going strong, the festivities began on this fine Friday evening, and the two friends were well on their way to Smashedville, with a pitstop planned for Hallucination Island where they intended to stay until Sunday. "I'm gonna get SO fucked up!" Dave said for all the forest to hear, and all Scott could do in response was giggle; they were gonna be fucked indeed.
As the hours passed, the sun faded, beers emptied, and IQ's plummeted. If either of them had been coherent enough to speak, they probably would have gone to bed an hour ago, but there was no avoiding the Sandman now, as just keeping their eyes open was beginning to be cumbersome. Scott got up off of his makeshift tree stump chair, pissed about two feet from the campfire, and proceeded to trip over a rock and piss all over himself. This sequence sent Dave into a frenzy of uncontrollable laughter, bent over and gripping his knees for support as he cackled into the moonlight. "Fugbgck youb" Scott stammered, which sent Dave into another fit of drunken laughter. "HOLY FUCK, HOLY FUCK, I HAVEN'T LAUGHED THAT HARD EVER!" Dave exclaimed, wincing as his sides felt as if they were actually going to split from the previous episode of comic mirthfulness. Scott glared at him one last time as he shook the piss off of his hands, and then headed into the tent. Dave, still half giggling said towards the tent opening "OK broski, I'm going to try and NOT piss on myself before bed - remember, no cuddling!", and as Dave unzipped his fly, the most horrific sound came from inside the tent; it sounded like an agonized yelp more than a scream if Dave were to try and describe it later, but that wasn't going to be a concern, because soon they'd both be dead.
Dave didn't bother to zip up and pissed all over himself as Scott had as he ran towards the tent, only this time there was no humor in the mishap, and the intensity of the situation sobered him up faster than a breathalyzer bodega parked squarely in a shanty town. "SCOTT! SCOTT!" Dave screamed, but all he got in return were muffled cries of pain as Scott struggled against a force Dave couldn't see inside the tent. All of the sudden, Dave heard a gurgling noise followed by what he could swear was something swallowing, but as he ripped the zipper of the tent open, there was nothing inside besides gallons of blood. "What the fuck!? Scott!?" Dave screamed as he crawled through the blood and frantically searched for any part of Scott he could find. Nothing. Scott had simply vanished. As Dave motioned to head outside of the tent and go for help, the canvas of the tent suddenly felt like the inside of his mouth, and the zipper on the door contorted into some kind of mutilated form of razor sharp teeth, opening and closing, preparing to chomp down on its next meal. "This isn't happening! I'll never do drugs again!" Dave screamed into the darkness, and as the teeth tore Dave limb from limb, a bear walked by, and didn't look back.
NB
