The flames bounce up and down like waves in a sea of burning colors. Occasionally an ember breaks away from the ocean of red, floating out into the endless night, and then burning out into a single ash of grey. The lifeless speck then glides back to the flames of which it was born.

Smoke surrounds the bench like logs and all of those who occupy them. The pungent sent of burning wood along with the sweet aroma of marsh-mellows softens the mood and subdues the surrounding people. I sit entranced by the overall spectacle of lights and smoke, as counselors and campers begin drifting off at my sides. The sound of snoring echoes through out the campground and my eyelids grow heavy as my head begins to bob up and down. A small girl stands in the middle of the campground, rambling on like a chirping bird about some scary story, but no one pays her any mind.

Snap! The sudden noise brings me and most of the other girls back to attention, with the exception of a few. We look up with a mixture of surprise and curiosity to see the source of our discomfort. It looks like the bird girl’s story has finally ended and someone else, the likes of which I have yet to be acquainted with, stands by her side. She’s tall and stocky and definitely older then most of us.

“Okay ladies,” She says, holding up the branch she just smacked at the fire. Her voice is deep and commands the attention of all those who are still conscious as she says, “it’s my turn” We sit there for a moment as she clears her throat, then begins to spin a tale.

“You’re all familiar with the adjacent forest, right?” A single girl loudly hiccups in response, but everyone else is too busy listening to the more prominent noise of animals lurking and scurrying to notice. We turn our heads over towards the now more ominous looking forest. Countless pairs of bright yellow eyes peer from the distance, looking in, almost hungrily. A fog seems to spread through the tall dark trees towards the fire-pit, pulling us closer into its grasp. And the more I think about it, the worse it smells like rotting meat as if someone, or rather something, was feasting in there. Owls hoot in the background, and was that my imagination, or did a wolf just howl? We all huddle more closely together as if that would keep us away from the growing danger sitting right beside the fire.

“Now, there is a beast, who lives deep in this forest.” She continues, “and at night he likes to come to the edge of the trees, while everyone’s sleeping, and grab unsuspecting campers!”

Wow, didn’t see that coming, I think to myself sarcastically, and a little disappointed, as I pick up another marsh-mellow and place it above the closest flame. I bring the now crispy black treat up to my mouth and nearly burn myself as someone lets out a small yelp and. Looking up I see our storyteller going on as one girl covers her face in fear. With newly found interest, I continue to listen.

“Sometimes, this beast,” she pronounces the word with disgust. “Disguises itself as another camper and takes its victim by surprise. No one knows what he looks like though, because no one lived to tell. All anyone hears are the screams.” She says, cupping a hand to her ear. “Some say he has bright red eyes and foot long protruding teeth that he uses to tear the flesh off his victims. He stands hunched over like a primate, with skin the color of night as to blend in to his surroundings”

I listen on, enthralled in the story as I bring my newly blistered finger up to my mouth, which tastes metallic yet sweet because of the molten marsh-mellow seared into it. Its still throbbing with pain, but I pay it no mind as I continue listening to the story.

“One evening,” she continued, “The beast discovered a bunch of girls camping out by the fire-pit while on a retreat. He disguised himself as one of them and that night, while they told stories by the fire, he made an attack!”

Aw, that’s cute, I thought to myself as some of the other girls giggled, She’s recreating our scenario. I went on listening and as I did, I kept thinking about how I couldn’t recognize this girl; she wasn’t here last year was she? I immediately went back to what she said about this beast, going incognito and attacking kids, but that couldn’t be…? No! I’m just tired is all. But as I look up at the face of this girl who I’ve never met before, a cold chill runs through my body; its almost as if her eyes are glowing red…and…and… are those fangs coming out of her mouth? The smell of rotting flesh is all the more prominent. It has to be my imagination though, no one else sees a difference…but, no, she’s looking right at me! She -It’s- going to pounce and no one else is seeing this! I begin screaming, a loud ear bursting, blood curdling scream, and then…

“Are you done interrupting” it’s the bird girl, still going on. I nod in confusion, grasping at the soft, warm, sleeping bag as I look right and left at my surroundings. I’m still at the fire pit. I’m still safe. It was all a dream.

Slowly I inch closer towards the heat of fire and other human life as the small girl goes on about her not-so-scary story. The taste of blood rushes in my mouth as I realize I was nervously biting my lip, but that’s the least of my worries, because as I steal a glance towards the forest, I swear I see a pair of red eyes staring right at me.