Screams Filled the Night Air

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window.

"Burn little flame, make me whole, and I can drive people crazy again!" the creature chanted, drawing strength and energy from the tiny flame from the candle burning in the window. "I need some blood," the evil thing cackled, running a lizardy tongue across rotting teeth.

"Flying high, flying low, I will catch you wherever you go!"

The creature sang the words repeatedly, laughing louder each time as if in a trance, her stench filling the room as she continued to take on form.

The Anderson family trudged up the last hill, camping gear on their backs, and they were all tired from the long walk from the car. Their father, Chase, insisted this was the best spot to camp in the entire forest, even though it was a hike. The sky had just enough light left to put the tent up and build a fire, make dinner, and then listen to their Dad entertain the younger kids with his scary campfire stories. I was the oldest of five kids and eight years older than Carly, who turned seven this year. The youngest was Katie, and she was only two.

I threw my pack on the ground and began helping Dad put up the tent while Mom rounded up the younger kids and sorted out dinner items. The tent went up quickly, and the fire roared despite the wind starting to blow. Dinner was beans and hotdogs, but they tasted so much better with the black edges on the hotdogs and the slightly burnt taste of the beans cooking in the pan. Mom and I cleaned up quickly while Dad got out his big flashlight, held it up to his chin, and began the first ghost story about the haunted forest. Great, there will be two kids in the sleeping bag with me when I wake up in the morning, shaking with fear and nightmares.

"Lizzy, you need this light to read?"

"That would be great, Mom!"

I pulled my diary from my backpack and began writing about my day. Soon my eyes grew heavy, and I started to miss words as my mind drifted into a different time. I could still hear Mom reaching into the bags to get more marshmallows to make smores, and I could listen to the younger kids laughing and gasping as Dad droned on with another goofy ghost story. Was I ever that young? I didn't think so. My mind once again pulled away, but something was different. I could feel the cold earth under my body, and I felt like someone was pulling me across the ground. I tried to open my eyes, but the dirt kept flying up, making me blink. I knew I wasn't at the campsite anymore, and I couldn't hear my Dad talking, my Mom getting out more food, or the kids laughing and gasping. I was being dragged away from the campsite and couldn't seem to do anything to help myself!

Wait a minute. I was high; that was it! Randy smoked some weed with me at school on Friday and slipped a joint in my backpack, which I smoked before I laid down to read. That Randy! He got me so high that my mind went to Paris and sipped wine while I stared at the Eiffel Tower, and then I was in Mexico, swimming and then sitting on the back of a killer whale. Oh God, I'm high as a kite; that had to be it. A large rock brought me back to reality as blood began to feel warm against my cold face. What I was experiencing wasn't a mind high; someone was dragging me by my ankles. My nose began to gush blood, and I managed to raise my head enough to keep the dirt out of my mouth while I squinted my eyes and tried to cover them to eliminate dirt while I strained to see who was pulling me. All I could see in the dark was a thin wispy figure with floating silver hair and a horrible smell in the air. A witch? Ridiculous, witches were just creatures in my Dad's stories. My head hit the ground hard, and everything went black.

I slowly opened my swollen eyes and watched the gaunt, wispy figure stroll around the kitchen that seemed a million miles away. The thing was singing, talking in a low voice, and then glancing at me. I'd close my eyes quickly so the thing didn't know I was awake. Large, heavy chains held my arms and legs in place and wrapped around an old, dirty wood pole in a dark corner of the small room. The creature was moving slowly around the kitchen and the dim light showed its translucent skin and hollow-looking eyes. My head ached from banging on rocks and blood was dried on my face as fresh blood continued to trickle from my lip and nose.

The wind whipped hard, and the door to the cabin flew open and hit the outside of the wall, but the creature didn't hear it or feel the wind. I pulled hard, trying to escape the chains when I noticed from the corner of my eye a thing that resembled a man crawling on his belly into the room and slithering towards me. Oh God, not another lunatic, I screamed in my head. His eyes seemed to be nothing but shiny, hollow spheres where his eyes used to be, and he was drooling on himself. As he got closer, sweat ran down my face despite how cold it was, and I felt my arms and legs stiffening up. I closed my swollen eyes as tightly as possible, and I could smell the sweat on him as he got closer, until finally, I felt three fingers and a thumb on my neck. I could tell he was missing a finger and his other hand reached up and pressed hard against my neck until it hurt. I almost screamed out, but knew somehow he was trying to help me, so I clamped my mouth closed and suppressed the urge to cry out. I had heard stories of a man who disappeared up here camping, of how he went crazy and killed all the campers in the area, but nobody ever knew what became of him. He had three fingers on one hand because he was a butcher and lost one working, and I wondered if this was him, crazy Bill, and if he would kill me after he set me free.

I felt the lock falling and he grabbed it before it hit the floor, and then in shallow, broken English he told me to run and pointed at the door that was still open and flapping in the wind. I let the chains fall quietly from my bloody arms and legs, and stood slowly, staying out of sight behind the wood pillar in case I couldn't stand, but adrenalin is a unique chemical. I found my legs, swallowed hard, and ran as fast and far as possible, not taking time to catch my breath or look behind me. I could hear screaming and yelling and then feet running on the path behind me, but I had a good head start. When I got close enough to see the fire my family had built. I started yelling run! Run as fast as you can!!

They saw my bloody head and swollen eyes and didn't even stop to question. Mom grabbed the two younger kids; Dad threw dirt on the fire and a big pitcher of water; he heaved one girl over his shoulder and the other girl under his arm. I told them to run, leave everything behind, and not to look back! I saw a glimpse of the creature in the distance behind the car as we sped away, still screeching, with one arm dangling behind it. I hoped the thing that helped me get away was safe, but from the creature's looks and the sounds coming from the trees, I didn't think that was possible.

I never went camping again, but rumor says that when a full moon rises and a candle burns in the cabin window, a dark, evil screaming is heard in the trees, and a voice repeats, give me back my finger!