BROKEN IN THE DARK

TRIGGER WARNING: SCENES OF HORROR

“How much further now? We’ve been walking forever!” Serena shouts from the back of the group, who are making their way through the deep eerie forest.

“Not long now team, the map says it is just over the ridge,” Greg yells back.

The group of five teens and two adults, are meandering along a narrow dirt trail, their destination, Luther’s Camping Grounds. The sunshine is partially blocked by mammoth trees, spreading an ominous dark shadow across the expanse. Greg Hamilton is a new facilitator to the group, and the other facilitator Carol Hughs, has led hundreds of teens into the bush at least three times a year, for the past twenty years. This part of her job, she enjoys the most – immersed in nature, feeling the earth crunch beneath her boots, though age is catching up with her.

Already prepared for no cell phone signal, as they journey deeper into the woods, Carol is trusting Greg to negotiate the map. This is her last camping trip; retirement at the end of this, another chapter will be closed. All the things she’s been putting off, waiting for freedom; no more smelly grotty teenagers, Carol is totally over it. The trek is steep as they near the ridge, which will take them to the camping grounds. At the top, astonished, Greg yells for Carol to join him at the front. He paces, on edge. Gradually, she climbs to the top beside him. Her body aches and niggles.

“What’s the matter?...” Carol pauses, confused, looking at the horizon. “Oh shit, we need to regroup and go over the map again. We must have strayed off the path somewhere…,” scarlet heats her cheeks, mad at Greg’s inattention, piercing him with rabid eyes.

The campground is not at the bottom of the gully like Greg had thought, only more hills raise their heads into the pale blue sky. The teens sit around the rocks, munching on energy bars, while the facilitators appraise the map intently. Carol is tired and weary; a headache forming behind her eyes. Dusk is a few hours off, so Carol makes the decision to forge ahead. If they go further along the path, they should intercept another trail, she hopes will take them straight to their destination.

Walking on, the kids chattering amongst themselves, Greg not paying attention, and Carol dreaming of the Caribbean; sitting on the beach with a cocktail in her hand, soaking in the hot sun. She’s been saving her holiday payments for a ticket on the newest cruise ship – top of the line, five swimming pools, stops in the Caribbean islands, drinks, and food galore, perhaps a new love interest? When finally, they make it to the point they should be intercepting the trail, there is none, it doesn’t exist. In a fury, Carol snatches the map from Greg, pissed that they are lost, accidentally ripping the map in half.

Serena turns to Charlotte, “I think we’re lost, should they be fighting like that?”

Everyone has stopped, the teens look on engrossed by the adults’ hostile behaviour. Carol and Greg are yelling, throwing around blame and insults.

“Grrrr….” Carol stomps off, but not far away, she just needs a break and a chance to think. “This is all my fault; I should never have trusted you!” she mutters beneath her breath at Greg.

Greg composes himself, when he sees the dire look on the kids’ faces.

“I think we are lost, but I’m fairly certain I can get us back on the right track,” Greg says flippantly, trying to hold the two ripped pieces of the map together.

The sun is nearly kissing the horizon. The sky, blanketed in purples, pinks and golds. Still, they are no closer to the campgrounds. Fortunately, they each carry pop-up tents in their rucksacks, along with the usual garb; sleeping bag, food, water, wet weather gear, and supplies.

“It’s getting late, and we need to find somewhere to camp for the night. I’m going up the other ridge to see if I can spot a place for us,” Carol says, taking out her flashlight in case she needs it, as the sky darkens above.

When she returns, the sky decides to spit raindrops at them.

“I’ve found somewhere, but we need to leave now…it’s going to take a while to get there, and it’s starting to rain.”

They follow her over a couple of hills, down into a gully, into a semi sheltered clearing. It is far from ideal, but given the circumstances, they will have to make it work. The sun falls below the horizon, white storm clouds streak across the sky, the birds are singing their trilling evening lullaby’s, circling high above, and the rain falls like little pebbles; hard, cold, and annoying. They shiver when they enter the clearing, the temperature turned chilly. Charlotte and Damian are directed to gather wood – the makeshift camp is up against a rock face; the fire should be able to withstand the deteriorating weather.

“So, what are you here for?” Charlotte asks Damian, as they collect firewood.

“Well, aren’t you the nosy one? Nah, only kidding. I got into some trouble at school, and so mum and my stepdad thought this would snap me out of it. What about you?”

Charlotte sucks in a breath, “my dad died in a car accident a few months back, and mum is too busy to look after me. I know I’m fourteen, but I still need her, you know?” tears threaten to undo her, but she holds it in.

“Shit, that sucks. But at least you had a dad, I don’t even know where mine is, he ditched when mum was pregnant. My stepdad is okay, but he yells a lot,” Damian explains, looking out into the distance; all he can see is trees and more hills.

With their heavy hoard, the two make it back to camp. A majority of the tents have been erected – Carol deciding to double up to save time and resources. She lights the fire, bathing them is some warmth.

Later that night, Matt and Andy are in the same tent. The incessant DRIP, DRIP, DRIP, of the rain stealing any chance of sleep. Darkness smothers them, a cold chill nestles into their bones, and although they are snuggled tight inside their sleeping bags, warmth is a distant memory.

“This is useless man! I can’t believe they got us lost! That Greg is a loser, with a capital L. What’s up with him anyway? Something is off about that dude. Fuck it’s freezing,” Matt complains, as they shiver in the damp cold tent.

“I like him, he talks a lot, about nothing,” Andy’s teeth chattering, “but he seems okay to me. I bloody hope we find the campgrounds tomorrow; it sucks here, I hate going to the loo in the bush, at least there they have proper toilets!” he shifts around in his sleeping bag, making it crinkle.

A noise startles them, just beyond the zipper door.

“Who’s there?” Matt calls out.

Silence answers back. He reassures himself; it is one of the others heading to the loo. In the distance he hears a chilling scream – it’s probably an animal, foxes sound like screaming children! Later, in the dead of the night, another sound has them both reaching for their flashlights in pure terror.

“Andy, what the heck? Are you awake?”

“I’m awake…did you hear that too?”

Their flashlights illuminate them in a ghoulish way. The tent shakes on all sides, nearly buckling in the middle.

“Cut it out guys!” Matt yells, thinking it is the others playing a prank.

Andy pokes his head out through the zipper, he sees that all of the other tents have disappeared! Lightning strikes burst like fireworks in the sky, and thunder roars above them.

“Matt, we need to get out! NOW!”

Confused, they stumble out and into the clearing. The fire is stone cold dead, not even an ember glow. Everyone has vanished, they are alone. Shocked, they run around in the rain; the edges of their world wrenched apart. Nothing makes sense…where did everybody go?

“I don’t get it…they would never leave us! What are we going to do?” Andy pleads.

“I don’t know! We can’t follow them, we’ve no idea where they went.”

A horrendous crashing sound, snapping branches, in the forest something big is moving, coming closer…they try to run but are knocked down by gigantic boulders, crashing through the trees. Both are pummelled into a ghastly mash of human soup; more boulders burying them both for good.

Meanwhile, Greg is talking to Damian in their tent, about how he came to be a facilitator for this group. He’d got himself into a lot of trouble when he was younger. Life was rough, growing up in their run-down housing corp. apartment, living in poverty. This impelled Greg into becoming a social worker, for children and adolescents. He enjoys his job, motivating kids, and helping them through their struggles. He takes them on outings, because their parents don’t have the time or the funds. Damian is drifting off; it’s been a long grueling day. Greg yawns and stretches and is about to roll over into a more comfortable position, when he hears a loud crash, somewhere outside.

“Did you just hear something?” he asks Damian but receives no reply.

Suddenly, his bladder needs relief. So, he puts on his boots, and makes his way out of the tent, closes the zipper and roams over to the nearest tree. Standing there, releasing his bladder, he is startled by a bright light wandering through the forest. When he finishes, he decides to investigate, perhaps one of the kids is out there lost? This propels him forward. Pushing branches away, slick, and wet, sprinkling him in raindrops, trudging through the mud, to the place where he saw the light. It keeps moving, and so does Greg. Whenever he thinks he is close, it moves further away. Realising too late, that it can’t be the kids…they wouldn’t be out here, this far away from the camp.

It isn’t until Greg falls through an old, abandoned mineshaft from a hundred years ago, his legs flaying in the air, he hits the ground, forty metres down, only then does he realise his mistake – he shouldn’t have come on this trip, not after the nightmare he had the night before at home, sleeping next to his girlfriend of three years, Melanie. The memory of it, sitting heavy in his head like a rock…he’s covered in blood; being eaten alive by something he can’t see! As he lays there dying, a bloody broken mess, horror grips him when he feels trillions of little paws scuttling over his body. In his last breath, with what little strength he has left, he cries out for help; the mineshaft swallows his voice.

Damian has waited long enough; he was terrified when he woke to find himself alone inside the tent. His flashlight casts a weak pale-yellow glow, and he has to hit it a couple of times to get it to work properly.

“Greg are you out there?” he calls, the wind whips away his words.

He crawls out into the night. The ground is drenched, sloshing through the mud in bare feet, with his flashlight spreading over the campsite, he is devastated to find all of the tents have vanished.

“What the hell? Greg, Carol! Where are you?” he screams into the storm.

Damian is abruptly and viciously lifted off the ground, upside down, up into a tree, dragged right to the very top; cold wet wings wrap themselves around him. When knife sharp claws release him, and as the ground comes rushing…it becomes poignantly clear – this is how it ends. His neck snaps when ground meets body; a bloody crumpled mess at the bottom of the ancient tree.

Charlotte and Serena are restlessly sleeping, when suddenly Carol bursts into the tent, frightening them both awake.

“Get up, we need to go!” she says as she pulls at their sleeping bags, to get them up and out.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Charlotte is scared, seeing the fear in Carol’s eyes, which glow orange, reflecting in the light of her dying flashlight.

They hear it, through the storm; something splits the forest apart. The trees shake and bend in ludicrous ways. Carol and the girls look out into the pitch black, only a small portion is lit by their flashlights; frightened by what they see, the two girls dive back into the tent, dress swiftly – leaving their possessions behind in the chaos.

“Quickly now!” Carol urges from outside the tent.

Rumbling rocks crunching together, trees breaking, snaps her into gear. Hastily she scans the campsite. Just before she’d woken the girls, she was dumbfounded to discover the other tents had disappeared. A shiver courses through her blood, ice cold in fear and confusion. The two girls emerge, they are nearly out, when unexpectedly a huge tree falls right across the tent, smashing them into a pulpy glob of bones and bloody matter. Carol throws up – expunging herself from the horrendous sight. The girls can’t be saved, so she runs for her life.

Moments before her flashlight dies for good, she spots the entrance to a cave, and makes her way inside. Huddled behind a rock, close to the entrance, she can see something black and red and huge, cast in distant lightning strikes, drawing closer. With each striking explosion in the sky, the black mass comes closer, and closer, until it is standing at the entrance of the cave, looking in. Then in the next strike, it’s gone. Seconds later, a rod of lightning hits a tree next to the cave, exposing something truly horrifying, it makes her scream in revulsion. It’s a ginormous black creature, with red glowing eyes, in front of her now, and by her hair it lifts her off the ground, her legs swaying in mid-air, it turns her body to face it. Its face is grotesque, distorted – like some crossbreeding experiment gone horribly wrong; standing at least ten feet tall, its stench, putrid. She feels sick, brushing against its rock-hard furry body. Its claws dig into her skin, making her scream out in pain. Then it dumps her on the ground, knocking her out when her head greets rock.

Carol wakes on cold hard dirt; the sun is peeking into the cave. The nasty gash on her head has stopped bleeding, and it doesn’t really hurt. With water she finds dripping into the cave, she wipes the blood from her face and eyes, clearing her vision. Carol starts walking, confused and perhaps concussed, her mind a muddled mess. Daylight arrives bright in the sky, no rain in sight. She obsesses over everything she can remember but having no idea how long it’s been since they entered into the forest – hitting her head in the cave has erased her memory slightly. She can’t make sense of what happened, misery becomes her, as she vaguely recalls the creature in the cave. Was it all a bad dream? Her digital watch has stopped working, it’s blank, so she doesn’t know the date or time.

Eventually, the sky turns to night. Carol stumbles across the road they’d traversed to get to the carpark. It isn’t far, she recognises the sign pointing to it. But when she gets to where the van should be, the carpark is empty. Trudging along the lone wet slippery road, all she wants to do is sleep. Nobody passes by, so she can’t get any help.

Worn, battered, and bloodied, finally, she reaches the police station. They take her straight into a warm office, give her a warm blanket, a hot chocolate, and a doctor cleans her wounds. Several officers stare in at her through the internal window. The detective closes the blinds to shut them out. They are bewildered, and a couple of older sergeants who remember the case, have dread in their eyes, and bad thoughts in their heads – it’s the case they never solved. After she has purged herself of what little information she can give, the detective inhales a deep breath, ending in a long sigh. He tells her something she can’t comprehend. To prove it, he pulls out an old newspaper article from a dusty manila folder, and places it into her shaking hands.

MISSING: TWO SCOUTS AND FIVE TEENS

Scout leaders; Carol Hughs (57), Greg Hamilton (30), and teenagers; Matt Simmons (14), Andy Carruthers (15), Serena Lockwood (14), Charlotte Martin (14), and Damian Nelson (14), have been missing since, February 15^th, 2010. The group were last seen a week ago. They were on a scouting tour with an organisation, KIDS CAN DO IT. The group of seven were on their way to Luther’s Camping Grounds, they never made it, according to logbook entries. The group have not been seen or heard from since – several searches are underway. A Nikon camera was found in the carpark, believed to have belonged to Hamilton. Police are appealing for any information.

When Carol wandered into the police station, it is the year, 2022. She is distraught by what she’s learned. She can’t have been walking lost in the forest for twelve long years! It’s impossible. Yet, he pulls a photo from the same folder, it’s the one they took at the carpark together before they entered the forest, on the back it says it was printed in 2010. The detective explains that although they never found the bodies, everyone was presumed dead. After seven years had passed, a coroner ruled them all deceased. As the detective takes her statement, he watches her intently for signs of deception, astounded that she still looks the same as the day she went into the forest, twelve years ago…it’s an absolute mystery!

THE END