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          They were all dead, even myself.  How did this happen and why was I forced to take my own life?  Everything is so hazy, and yet, so very clear to me. The twinkling lights of blue and red are almost here, hopefully they will understand what has taken place on this night; hopefully, they will know why so many died for so little.



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       Driving slowly into the area, the campers decided upon this spot: close to the lake, but not too close, a sandy area where they can make a controlled fire (since it hasn't rained in months), a short, grassy area where they can pitch up the tents, and a wooded section where they can find firewood.  The ideal spot to camp out, party, drink, and be the little pyro's that they are.  A night of drinking, and unknown to them, a night of crimson and death.



       "Here looks good." their so-called leader said, pulling up onto a sand dune, without realizing the steep drop on the other side.



       "Oh, shit!" All four of them exclaimed, as the front end slammed into the ground, the car was moving no where. Like the idiot of a driver that Mike was, kept trying to start the car again, which sucked sand into his filter; the car had seen better days.



       "Well, I'll call the others; maybe they can help us out." Said Mike.  Everyone exited the vehicle, and started moving the supplies out. More and more they noticed that the "leader" seemed to have been only buying alcohol than say the important things, such as food, toilet paper, and such.  



       "At least he remembered that we needed tents" Eric said to Amber.

  

       "Yeah, I just pray no one needs to use the restroom, or they're gonna have to use leaves and pine cones." Amber replied.



       "Yeah, just don't pull the pine cones the wrong way."



       As they were finishing up the unloading process, the other campers showed up in their trucks.  Both equipped with an ATV each in their beds, with scattered supplies everywhere: most of them crushed from the ATV's rolling back and forth on the road trip.  



        All of them were finally at the "ideal" spot: Eric, Amber, Liz, Bobbert (nickname of Robert), Mike, Nick, and Cody.  All good friends for the most part, the usual squabbles between two people always happened, but in what society doesn't it?  People will always be people.



         After separating the gear and unloading the ATV's Mike, Cody, Liz, and Amber began to pitch up the tents, while the two males pitched tents in their own pants.  The other's decided to go riding around to check the terrain for jumps, and such areas of mutual entertainment; or the breaking of one's skull.  Fearless in their childish antics, they never remembered to wear helmets; something that could've avoided tragedy for one member.



         While the others were away, the four decided to start the drinking early; most alcoholics do these days.  Mike started handing a few brews around, as Cody went off into the wilderness to find firewood for later that evening.



         The deeper into the woods he went, the darker it became.  Scrounging around on this unbeaten path; he stopped in mid step, as a bush a little ways off began to rustle.  Cody, being the paranoid man that he is (figures the aliens are coming to get him), picks up a stick near him and slowly walks towards the bush.  Calmly, he moves closer to it, raising the stick high, he parts the bush and swings, but stops himself; for he found a family of bunnies, that staggered off as quickly as they had come.  



          With a sigh of relief, Cody dismissed his paranoia, but too bad for him that he noticed all too late that there was more than just his shadow on the ground.  Before he could react, a hand covered his mouth, as a blade pushed savagely through the back of his neck and out the front of it. As the blade was removed, a sharp gush of blood covered the trees around him.  The blood would not stop flowing, with every pulse brought Cody closer to his fate.



          Finally released by this brutal person; Cody tries to call for help, but his vocal cords are shredded. He only manages to get out a gargling noise, before he is flipped over and sliced from one side of his gut, to the other.  



           Fading into the darkness; his last envision of his killer, playing with his intestinal track, was so shocking, he would never forget the face of his stone cold killer: it would haunt him even in his eternal slumber.



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           Hours went by before anyone noticed their missing partner (wasn't the most liked out of the group), so Mike and Liz decided to venture out into the woods to find him.  Though they all believed it was just another silly prank of his that he would pull from time to time.  Having demolished most of the beer already, the two drunken bastards staggered around, heading into the woods.  Thought they said they were off to look for their "friend", the two horny, intoxicated patrons had a different idea; like a nature movie.



       "Sthho, were do you sthhink he is?" Asked Liz.



       "Bah, how caresh were he ish, letsh have a liddle fun of our own" Mike said, grabbing a handful of Liz's back side.



            Walking into a darkened part of the woods, the two stopped near a tree, attempting to kiss as best as drunks could.  Slowly Liz kissed her way down and diagonally, then back down him, to his pants.  Slowly unzipping them; after about five minutes of searching for it, she manages to get it down.  She reaches inside of his pants and before she can pull his tool out; she noticed a shadowy figure covered Mike's face as she glanced up at him.  



            His face, ghost white with an expression of shock; his bottom lip trembled slightly as he stared.  Liz slowly turned to see what had him petrified.  Slowly as she turned, she screamed and clenched her fists; Mike felt the pain of her nails as well.  



            Hanging from the tree was Cody, how he was hung up was what scared them the most.  His intestines; now tied around the tree branch, was what they also saw wrapped around his neck, the unused parts fell down to the ground; where animals began to feast upon.  Wolves to be exact.



            Wolves generally do not attack people, unless aggravated by a person.  The smell of blood however, will draw any animal to it, including wolves or bears.  Fortunately, there are no bears in these woods; but a wolf is not to be reckoned with.  Pack hunters, such as these creatures, can be vicious in a fight.  



            Both campers decided it was time to leave, as Liz took off running back to camp; losing Mike back at the tree, as he was struggling to get his zipper up.  She ran as fast as she could, yet to no prevail, as she had lost her way into an even darker part of the woods.  With barely any room to move, she slowly maneuvered her way around the enclosed trees.  Still unable to see a way out, she stop to catch her breath, when something behind her moved.  As she turned to look at what it was, a crimson spray soaked her completely, even in her eyes.  



       Trying to rub out what had gotten in them out; she then she heard something that made her heart skip a beat, something she wished she had only imagined.  She glanced at her sides and in front of her...wolves.



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       Out of the clearing, Mike finally made it back to camp.  Still shook up and bewildered from the travesty he witnessed; which had also sobered him up quite a bit. After digging around in his pack; grabbing his walkie-talkie and  his 9mm, he called the riders back to camp.  



       "Bobbert, you there?!" Mike said frantically.



       "Yeah, we're on our way back, what's wrong?"



       "Dude, Liz and I found Cody dead!  We need you guys back here now, something isn't right; we need to get out of here and go to the cops!"



       "Are you joking around?" Bobbert asked.



       "Does it fucking sound like I'm joking!? Just hurry up and get back here!" Mike said, ending the conversation.



       Mike sat down, watching the woods; waiting for something to come out of it. Cocking his gun and taking it off of safety, he waited patiently for something or someone to walk out; to challenge him to the death. Then it hit him... where was Amber?  Looking at the tents, he noticed something catch his eye.  Moving slowly to them, he unzipped the flap and peered in.  He began to throw up all the beer he ingested.



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      Bobbert put the walkie-talkie back in his pocket and stopped his ATV, waiting for the other two to join up with him; as Nick and Eric were riding on the other 4 wheeler.  He began to wonder if what Mike said was true, and decided not to tell the other two about what had been said.  



      Just as he was coming up with his story, the other two pulled up beside him.  "What's going on, Bobbert?" Nick asked.



      "Mike needs us back at camp for some reason, said it was important."



      "We might wanna head back anyway, before Mike drinks all the beer anyway.  You know how he is, like a damn fish in water," commented Eric.



      "Yeah, let's head back," Bobbert said.



      Driving back to camp and hauling ass, the three noticed something up ahead, three white objects and something on the ground.  Moving closer the objects began to take shape, three furry animals, and something lying on the ground, torn up.  When they were about 100 feet away, they slammed on the breaks and looked in horror.  As they object on the ground turned out to be Liz, or what was left.



       The lifeless corpse was mauled, bloody, and torn up. Her face was almost completely gone, her neck was hanging on by a tendon, one of her hands was completely gone, and there was nothing but nubs left of her legs from the mid shin and down.  The only way they could recognize her, was from her necklace that she always wore; which was a family heir-loom.



       With nothing to protect themselves from the wolves, except their ATV's, they made their way on the path back to camp, going as fast as they could.  Nick took point since Bobbert was by himself, he'd be able to go faster, but he'd lose the other two.



       They were almost at the camp, when suddenly one of Nick's tires blew out.  Losing control of the ATV, he was flung off of it, and landed in the sand; as Eric was thrown into the side of a tree.  Crack! That was the sound he heard just before he landed on the ground.  Avoiding another accident, Bobbert braked and went left; stopping just shy of falling into the lake.  His heart never pounded so hard in his life, since the drop was about 50 feet down onto jagged rocks.  



       Eric slowly got back to his feet, as he looked up Nick was back up praising that he made it.



       "Woohoo! I'm the luckiest son-of-a-bitch out here! Not even a scratch, woohoo!" As joyous as his rant was, it was short lived.  As he began to walk around, the ground broke away from under him.  He grabbed onto the side of the hole, but it was only sand; he fell backwards and landed.  Unluckily for him, the sharpened, embedded tree branches caught him.  



        Impaling him upon mother Earth, he squirmed to get free, but he only bled more and more.  Cutting the holes wider, and sinking deeper onto the branches; until finally there was no fight left in him, he let out a sigh of air and fell onto death's scythe. His head fell back upon a spike, which shot through his head completely, sending a small amount of blood and gray matter towards the heavens; if he only had wore his helmet, he might have survived the ordeal.



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        Bobbert looked down the hole in sadness, as Eric; holding his left side, walked over slowly to meet up with him.  Resting his hand upon Bobbert's shoulder, he suggested that they go to camp and see what happened to Mike.



        Walking back to the camp, they noticed another car. They both knew who was there.  It was their friend Derrick, and his girlfriend Tanya.



        "Well, Mike should be safe, but where is everyone else at?" Eric asked, wincing in pain from his two broken ribs.



        "I don't know, but I don't like this, I don't like it at all," he said, as the two moved slowly back to camp.  They noticed that everyone still around was staring into one of the tents; shocked, appalled, and whiter than snow.  This didn't set well for the other two, as they walked up beside them to see what was going on.  They both felt sick.



         In the tent was a body, completely cut down the center; de-boned and castrated, her severed head was resting in her stomach, the expression of surprise was still locked on her face.  Her eyes had been removed, missing, no where to be seen; her tongue had been spliced down the center, and in her mouth was one of her kidneys. The rest of her organs were completely gone.



         After closing the tent, it became a discussion of who would go for help, and who would stay behind.  There was a lot tension and arguments flying around; the sun began to set, so a fire was made.  After a few more hours, it was decided.



        "Ok, me and Derrick will go back into town for help. Eric, Bobbert, and Tanya, you stay here and make sure that the person doesn't come back.  Are we all clear on that?" Mike said, in a tone of which a general would use if he was planning out a battlefield campaign.



        "Yes," they all said but Eric.



        "No deal, not unless you leave your gun with one of us.  It's only fair, because we don't even know if that psycho out there has one or not."



        "Ok, fair enough.  Here Bobbert, you take it." He said, handing it over to him without any question's asked. "Alright, we're off, good luck you three." Were his final words to all three of them.



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        "We need more firewood, I'll go collect some." Eric said, standing up.  Looking into the woods, he felt nervous about entering them, yet safe.  Why did he feel safe about entering an area, where someone might be lurking about, ready to gut, mutilate, castrate, and possibly rape him. God only knows.



        "You sure Eric, I mean, don't you want us to come with you?" Tanya asked.



        "No, I’ll be fine.  If I should die, what would be the point of all of us getting lost in the woods?  I'll be back in a few minutes, I promise."  



        Walking deep within the shadows of nature, Eric vanished from sight.  Tanya looked over at Bobbert; drunk and in sorrow, she realized that it finally hit him that a lot of his friends had died on this day; she felt he was taking it rather well, considering everything that has or had happened.



        "I need to take a wiss," he said softly, stumbling to his feet as he began to walk towards the woods.  He stopped on the thresh hold, unzipped his pants, and started pissing himself. Tanya stood up to go help him, when she felt a sharp pain on the back of her neck and everything went black.





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        Slowly, as I walk up behind him, I pull my knife out from my boot.  Already stained with the blood of his beloved ones; yet not satisfying enough to me, I must wet it once again.  As I stand behind him, he turns quickly with his gun aimed at me; between my eyes.  I'm dead in his sights, but yet he cannot shoot.



        The expression on his face is one of total surprise, he even squints his eyes to see if I am me or not.  While he's distracted, I bring my knife up and slit his wrist; he drops the gun.  While he's wincing from the pain, I put him into a headlock, and ram my knife into his sternum repeatedly; collapsing one of his lungs, and stabbing into his heart religiously.  



        So ironically to do so, since I've taken almost everything from this now empty shell.  As I think of what to do with this one, I lick my blade; saving the taste of yet another victim.  Looking around at my options; I grin and giggle to myself, as I cut him open.  



        "This will be my masterpiece." I say out loud to the unconscious one; while removing his intestines.





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         Driving down the road, Mike and Derrick pass the sign that gives them hope "Bridge: Up Ahead" both let of a sigh of relief.  Suddenly Derrick slams on the brakes, putting the car to a screeching halt.



         "What the fuck are you doing, Derrick!?" Mike questioned.



         "Look for yourself, dude." Staring out of the windshield at the bridge, Mike finally notices that most of the boards on the bridge are gone or snapped into two.  Their way out is gone.



         "Fuck!" Mike yelled out.  Then a thought came to him. "Derrick, do you have your cell phone on you?"



         "Shit, I totally forgot." He pulled out his cell phone, and dialed 911 and gave it to Mike. As he talked to the dispatch operator, Derrick turned the car around and went back to the camp sight.  After he hung up with her, they pulled in to see Tanya lying on the ground, with Bobbert and Eric gone.  



         After they parked the car, they ran over to her, to see what was wrong.  They found her, lying on the ground, drenched from head to toe in blood, and fecal matter.  The stench was as horrific, as was the thought of another dead friend.  Leaning down to touch her, Derrick was surprised by how high she jumped after he finally placed a hand on her.  



         She jumped up and screamed bloody murder.  She kept yelling at the top of her lungs, crying, and uncontrollably pacing around. "I didn't kill him! I swear, I didn't hurt anyone!" She finally blurted out before she knelt down next to a tree; vomiting as she sobbed.



         "What the fuck is going on!?" Eric yelled, dropping all of his firewood that he gathered.  Mike and Derrick looked at him, and then back to Tanya.



         "Tanya, where is your proof?" Mike asked?



         "Proof? Proof? Proof?! What the fuck do you mean proof?! You think I killed everyone?! I didn't get here until Derrick and I showed up!  Why do I need fucking proof?!" She dictated, completely and utterly frustrated with the question.



         "I didn't say everyone, I just said prove you didn't kill him!" He demanded, as everyone heard a snap.



         Tanya looked up, and sure enough, her proof came down to her on wings of lead.  Tagging her in the head and pushing her down to the ground, crushing her skull into the ground.  There was her proof; a log, fashioned together with entrails, to form an upside down cross.  Also tied to it was Bobbert; his family jewels removed and placed in his eye sockets, his chest completely ripped open, and in his hand was his heart, or what was left of it.



         Derrick fell to his knees in disbelief.  His love was gone from him, and all he could feel was guilt for thinking that she had done this.  He began to break down; he couldn't stop the tears from coming.  Everything he did in life, he did for her; and now she was gone forever.



         "Derrick... we need to get out of here... Derrick!" Mike shouted finally, but it was no use; he wasn't moving.  Looking around in panic, Derrick saw the gun; before anyone could do anything, he had picked it up, and placed it in his mouth.  If he couldn't have her in life, he didn't need to live.



         The bullet came out of the gun, speeding it's way through the roof of his mouth, into the bottom of his brain, and didn't stop until it went out the top of his skull; speeding towards the sky.  As he fell into a heaping mess, the last two survivors became sprayed with crimson red and gray matter.



**************************************************************





          "Oh my god... I... I can't believe this is happening... I... we need to get out of here... we just have to." Eric said softly, as he stared at his dead friend.  Though he was miles away from the trauma of this, he still couldn't understand why he felt the way he did. Calm.



          "We'll head for the shore line... it'll be easier to see... if anyone is coming for us." Mike finally responded after a few minutes of silence.



           Eric picked up the gun and placed it on safety, before putting it between the back of his pants and his skin.  The two then began the walk to the shore line, the breeze from the lake was cold, yet refreshing at the same time. As luck would have it though, neither of them had any left; as they peered out over the lake, the fog had begun to roll in.  They both sighed heavily.  



           Something about the shore line made Eric feel uneasy, but what?  He stopped to tie his shoe, but Mike didn't see him stop, he kept going onward.  The fog took over the land as he reached the edge, he turned around to see where Eric was, when he heard a snap.  He looked down to see that he had stepped on a stick holding a rope to a tree stump; he also noticed a little late that there was a rope around his foot.  Before he could even think, he was tugged to the ground, being pulled over the edge.



           Unable to get a grip on anything, he watched helplessly as he came closer to death's touch; he watched his life flash before his eyes in a alcoholic blur.  Suddenly, he stopped moving; something or someone had a hold of him.  He looked up to see a blade above him, he was finally face to face with the killer.  



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            With my blade ready, I plunged it down into the palm of his hand; as I am holding onto his forearm.  The blade faced towards his fingers; as it pins it down to the ground.  The scream he omits fills my blood with adrenaline again; so much fun for me to have.  



            Out of all the victims I've slain tonight, this one is the one I want to see squirm for death.  As I wiggle the blade for side to side, he tries to hide his pain; by biting his bottom lip, he stops from crying out.  The blood begins to pour from his lip; but he's too proud to let that bother him.



            With that in mind, I push the blade into his hand and the Earth until the handle is touching his skin; his delightful scream echoes into my ears once again.  Oh, how I enjoy the misery of another, especially one who lived as shitty as this one did.  Alcohol, sex, and using women for his own pleasure; I spit upon his face after his scream is through.  



            After all is said and done I let go of his arm, watching as the blade slowly tears its way through bone and flesh.  With all this excitement, one could cream himself in ecstasy.  Not much left holding him up now, just the skin between his middle and third finger.  Grasping the back of his head, I look deep into his eyes; I see his soul, ready to escape; along with it, my shell... my shell... oh my god! What.. what have I done?



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         Just before Mike's demise, Eric wakes up from the duality in his mind; sending the other half of himself back into the shadows of his world.  Without realizing anything around him, he lets go of Mike; he's only focused on the flashbacks of the unjustifiable homicides he has committed on this night.  Every face, every plea, rushing back into his mind; to view as his good side.



         The scream of Mike falling awoke him for his horrific flashbacks, just in time to watch him hit rock bottom.  His bones instantly became powder, his organs; liquefied.  His blood vessel and arteries; all ruptured at the same time, he was literally a bloody mess.



         Without a second thought, Eric pulled the gun out; off of safety, and placed it against his head. He shed a tear as he was about to pull the trigger; eyes clenched shut.



         "Hey, don't I get a say in this?  Come on, I've only had to live with you and your pitiful friends for 15 years! Now you decide to take you're own life?!  After I help you get rid of them?!  Can't you make up your mind?" Eric looked back to see his other side, his refraction.



         A pale complexion, wearing nothing but black: a regular t-shirt (about a medium size), baggy shorts that went two inches below his knees, and combat boots.  Everything was visible; except his face.  Darkened out from his own wicked thoughts, and hate; a face like that is best left veiled.  He began to pace around Eric, is if he was interrogating him; Eric stayed there, kneeling on the ground before the judgment of a peer.



         "It's over. It should have been over the minute I let you out, I'm correcting my error. Right here; right now."



         "Aren't you even curious? Aren't you just wondering, how it all worked out?  How I managed to kill those who weren't even around you?" Eric paused; I knew it had been running through that brain of his; that trial and error process just wasn't adding up in his head.



         "How... How did I... we... I mean, you... How did you kill everyone when we weren't around?"



         "Easy there Eric, don't lose your mind on me now," I snickered on that one, “You honestly don't remember that much about the week before, do you? Thought you were black-out drunk, huh?  We... oh, sorry... I went on a road trip.  How else did you think that you picked out this spot, even if your "leader" said he did?  You knew then that this place was familiar territory."



         "Well, then what about the fact I was on an ATV when three of my friends died?"



          "You sure you were on one?" With that asked, I knew it would trigger back to when my shell, Eric, was riding around on that four wheeler; asking Nick to stop to use the restroom, knowing full well that they would drive off and come back for him after a lap around the camp grounds; which meant a half an hour of fun for me.  Plenty of time to kill Cody, rig up an ingenious device to catch someone in a bath of blood, and more than enough time to have my way with Amber; all to myself.



         "How did you know that Liz would run off like that?" I stopped walking and faced him.



         "Actually, I didn't know she would.  I knew that someone would eventually panic; honestly though, I was expecting it to be Mike.  Imagine my surprise when I saw Liz through your eyes; a fitting end, none the less.   See when people panic, they run to where they feel safe, subconsciously or not.  What's to be afraid of if you can't see it?  So, I thought the darkest part of the woods was the best bet; I was right." I began to walk around him once again, circling him; like a vulture, waiting for it's meal to die.



         Eric couldn't argue with logic, especially not his own.  One other thing had been bothering him though, "hey, why don't my ribs hurt anymore; I thought I broke a few of them when I hit the tree."



         "Ah yes, the tree.  Ever wonder what the bottle in your pocket was?" Eric felt his pockets with his free hand, discovering a bottle in one of them; a medicine bottle.  Pulling it out, he read the label: Viccodin.  "See? I had all of this planned out, even the tree ride.  Granted, it hurt more than I predicted, but nothing that stuff can't cure."



         Frustrated by this whole day, Eric placed the gun tightly against his temple; slowly squeezing the trigger.  He had heard enough of my ranting about my play time.  



         "Don't be in such a rush to just end this, we make a good team.  You are the innocent do good type; and I... I am the one who ends those that hurt us."



         "It's not your place to do so!  Don't you get it?! You have no right to judge people that way!"



         "Why not? You're the one who let me out to get rid of them? So why can't I?  You obviously thought so. So where is the difference?!  Hmmm?"  I was right.  It was his own fault; he let me out to make them disappear, but he never thought it would lead to murder.  He never thought it through.



         "It doesn't matter it's over!"



         "Wait!" Too late.  Without realizing the pain of it, he had shot himself in the head, killing himself and me. Was I so horribly wrong?  Either way, it matters not.  Both of us dead, over some self-righteous ideal that he can control his own fate, when really, I was the puppeteer, and he was on my strings.  In a sense, I did kill myself, for I lost control of my creation.  The blue and red lights are dancing near by. I would've loved to met them.



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        "We start in five... four... three... two... and... go." The camera man said, directing the news reporter.



        "This is Karla Emerald; reporting live on channel six news. Our story today is one of blood shed and ritual sacrifice of the satanic realm.  At least, that's what the police are calling it."



        "Nine campers were found dead, early this morning, after a 9-1-1 call was made from a cell phone; police are unsure if it was one of the campers who made the call, or if the call was made by one of the killers."



        "The police are not releasing the names of the victims at this time, but they are sure that the killer or killers are still on the loose.  Though they have no evidence to support this theory at this time, they are sure that they will catch the person, or people, responsible for these horrific murders."



        "For channel six news; I'm Karla Emerald."