User blog:Addfire/A Stab In The Dark

A story about my experiences at good old Camp Sgrub Groshwood.

I'm driving, on a dusty road. The car is old, but expensive - I suppose the word is antique? - and has been used by a person who was not me. That person is now a corpse, charred to a crisp. He ran a human trafficking ring. I threw him into a volcano. I surf the radio, when I hear:

"This is Channel News 13, reporting our daily news through a radio! According to police, a crazed lunatic is on the loose near Groshwood Lake. He has removed all police numbers from that area, and you are not able to call them usually through 911. Campers are advised to stay cautious for him, as he looks like any other person you would see. However, if you get trapped in your cabins...

"You're done for."

I grin. A sick dog, just for me to put down. I parked my car, drew my gun (making sure it was loaded) and reserved a cabin. The camp was idyllic enough, the weather perfect. I suppose that's what a writer would call juxtaposition. Such a pleasant background that would soon be tainted red...

I almost felt bad for the poor 'psychopath'. I might make it quick for him. I walk to the main building to request a cabin, and a person sweeping the grounds looks up. "Find some berries, Missy, and I'll let you have mine." He flashes a grin specked with decaying teeth.

I briskly go to the forest, if berries are anywhere, they'll be there. And sure enough there see some berries - but covered in thorns. I sighed. I could go back to the man and tell him that I found some berries, but he probably wanted me to get them. I cocked my gun and fired a couple shots to clear away the thorns. Then I grabbed the berries, and brought them back for the man.

He was in a uniform, with a placard that said, Hi, my name is but whatever name was there was crossed out. Instead it just said Janitor. He had unnaturally spiky yellow hair, and black eyes, which widened as I approached.

"Wow! You actually got them! Hell, nevermind! A ton of the cabins are empty because of this psychopath thing, but..." He gestured as if swatting some particularly annoying fly. "Anyways, go ahead!"

I began to run over to the campground, when I met up with another camper.

-   MOAR TO COME