[center][color=a36209][h2]Chad Watts[/h2][/color] [b][code]The Campsite - Campfire.[/code][/b][/center] [hr] The cold morning breeze stung like the light against an alcoholic's eyes after a particularly wild night - just a lot colder and less skull-crushing. Chad always preferred warmer weather - hell, he wouldn't have signed up for this trip if it wasn't for the fact that it was summer. The sun had set only half an hour ago - and already, the surroundings were completely save the light of the moon... Chad briefly remembered a movie he had seen when he was eight, some cheesy horror flick about werewolves attacking campers in the woods. He wasn't very scared of it then, and he was even less scared now - the only reason he even remembered that was because he was in a similar situation. He always wished that the same thing could happen when he was taking tests, but he always seemed to black out on that kind of stuff when it came to calculus and trig. Shaking his head, Chad reminded himself why he was there - he needed to relax for once, even if it was with a bunch of people he really couldn't care too much about. Gazing around was a nice reminder. The lake was wide and open, the mountain being in clear view, and the campsite itself being spacious enough where Chad didn't have to talk too much with the other people who signed up for this trip. Even though he sure as hell wasn't an outdoorsy kind of guy, he could get used to this feeling... Chad began to count off all of his supplies, the third time he had done so since he even got to camp. His toiletries, towels, spare blankets, snacks, lighter, other essentials, and even the notebook he had questioned bringing. While he did so, he scanned the rows of cabins, trying to spot any noticeable differences or luxuries so he could claim the best one as soon as possible. Of course, he wasn't able to... But, whatever. He had plenty of ways to keep himself busy for duration of the trip. The other campers themselves were around, but Chad didn't pay them much mind - The town bicycle and her tall friend were chatting while most of the other kids were near Chad - close to the campfire, which was being set up. Chad briefly thought of pouring some lighter fluid to get the fire going, but he was as stingy as they come. After a minute or two, the fire started up, and everyone began to sit around one another, almost like they were part of some cult. Chad had quickly secured himself a spot on one of the smaller logs, slightly further than the fire than he would like to be. Some of the other kids had already left, red in the face and stumbling like toddlers learning to walk... Just the smell of the booze on their breath caused Chad to get a little nauseousness. Luckily, only the mostly sober were staying near the fire, with the passed out and very inebriated being dragged off to god-knows-where. Chad only hoped that they were being taken care of well as he adjusted himself on his seat. Chad slowly leaned back as the giant handed off a bottle of some alcoholic beverage to a very well-built blond guy. Chad could make out that it was some cheap brand of vodka thanks to the light provided by the fire, but determining the exact qualities would require a closer investigation, which he didn't exactly plan on doing. As everyone began to talk about what ghost stories to tell, Chad simply chose to pull out his phone, planning to only check some emails or read some stupid book. Just his luck, the phone was out of range - as he expected. Nothing this far out of town would work properly. Resigning himself to the inevitable, Chad retrieved the notebook, and began to write out the surroundings. Things like [i]"Very dark, illuminated by the moon and the single fire"[/i] were what dominated his musings. He had adopted the habit of writing down locations he's been to and things he did that day ever since his mother told him about his grandfather's worsening Alzheimer's. Less a diary, more of a log of events and people, and things he's done. Briefly pausing, Chad realized that it really was a diary, and quickly shoved it back into his bag after roughly a page of work. By the time Chad's view returned to the campers, he realized that they not only rapidly had people pinching off into other areas, but were now passing around pot as well. Chad grimaced slightly, but he greatly preferred the stench of someone smoking to booze. A guy and girl rushed off, neither of which Chad was familiar with - to be honest, the only people he knew here either hated him, or were somewhat neutral. Thank god that some more people were gone though - the less people there were, the less awkward things would be when Chad wasn't the only one 'getting high asf brah.' The guy, of course, had to leave a damn flask behind though - only making Chad wonder how the hell so many kids here had some form of booze. Was he really the only person under 21? Nah, they had to have fake IDs or something. A 5'2 Asian girl was the first to start off the scary stories, and while Chad was the first to admit that he was a scaredy cat, even he wasn't scared of ghost stories. Chad was way more terrified of actual threats, rather than boogeymen. Still, it did help put him on edge slightly - whether the girl was jut a good storyteller or Chad was more of a pussy than he thought, no one knows. Nearing the end of her story, however, the girl was cut off as Claire fell on her ass. Chad was initially about to laugh at the drunk girl already falling around, possible make a remark about holding down her booze, until he saw her eyes. Pupil dilated, heavy breathing, and the fact that she was startled were obvious clues of something worse. Or the fact that she was gripping her head while swearing. The latter was more of what let Chad catch on, since he was pretty shit when it came to physiology. Chad was worried until Zoey made the remark of it being "a bad reaction" before he immediately stopped caring. Of course, the weed was bad. That's exactly the reason Chad didn't touch any of that shit. The last hing he wanted to do was freak the fuck out and do weird shit in the far outskirts of town, with no connection, and the only people around being strangers or assholes. Chad nodded his head slightly - she totally deserved that. To think, Chad was worried for a second there. Even more so, worried for someone clearly in the "asshole" group. People were already crowding around her and reassuring her everything was alright - one girl, the one who initially introduced the pot to the group, was even crying. Chad simply kept his mouth shut - now was not a good time for a joke, and offering her help or condolences would not only be a lie on his part, but something that she would flat out reject. For some reason, that chick hated him since day 1. No point in asking someone if they were alright when they'd just blow you off, especially when nearly everyone in the camp was consoling her already. Zoey and Claire soon left, Claire glaring at the poor girl in anger. As soon as they left earshot, Chad finally spoke. [color=a36209]"Shit, hope she's okay."[/color] Chad didn't mean that at all. A bad trip was a good thing - it showed that you fucked up, and you should either find a better outlet, or a new dealer. Hopefully, Claire learned not to except pot from a stranger at a camp in Bumfuck, Nowhere. Minutes passed by without any interesting discussion, just consolation to one another. It wasn't until an older woman, a teacher in the science department and one of the trips counselors, finally showed up that the situation was saved. Thank god. Chad wasn't even upset that he was in trouble - his stomach was already in knots from the combined stench of the pot and vodka, and getting it the hell out of here would be marvelous. Besides, he may be able to charm his way out of detention. This thought was cut off as an axe flew into the counselors skull, cleaving it in two with ease comparable to a fist punching through toilet paper. Chad immediately screamed, along with the majority of people present, as blood splattered his clothes. An eye slowly rolled into the fire, causing Chad to vomit in the opposite direction. When his view returned, only a few seconds later, he was met with the image of an eight foot tall monster, grey skinned and bearing veins more akin to Lichtenberg Figures than actual tubes for blood to pass through. Chad barely caught a glimpse of the still familiar face before his lizard brain took over - it was fight or flight, and flight was the obvious damn choice. The axe wasn't halfway raised above the monster's body by the time Chad was hauling ass. Running quickly, Chad managed to see the infirmary open for a split second, before shutting again, and the lights cutting out. Chad didn't even bother risking it - they almost definitely locked the door. As he ran the yelling continued, footsteps growing louder by the second, and even the sound of music began to permeate the area. Chad didn't look back for a second. This was obviously some dumb ass prank, but he had a rule - never call a bluff when someone else can do it for you. Someone else was going to prove that this was a prank, while Chad stayed good and hidden in... Fuck! Fuck, Fuck, Fuck! [hr] [center][b][code]The Campsite - Dock.[/code][/b] [@Surtr Inc][@Prosaic][/center] [hr] The music was fading as he ran faster, but it didn't cut out do to distance - it was silenced some other way. Tears coated Chad's eyes as he ran towards the opposite way of the majority of campers. While everyone headed to the cabins, Chad chose to go straight for the docks, praying that there was some boat left... Scanning the shore revealed nothing at all, and Chad immediately began to swear under his breath. [color=a36209]"Fuck, Fuck, this can't be real...!"[/color] No boat was in sight, but two people were here - Some random girl he never me and (thank god) a familiar face! Instantly, Chad grabbed them by the wrist, dragging them behind the small supply shed where most of the fishing and boating equipment was kept. [color=a36209]"Oh Jesus Christ, you have no idea how happy I am to see you right now Lynette, Jesus fucking Christ, someone fucking died, my god, someone fucking died over there, Jesus Christ, oh fuck."[/color] Tears were streaming down Chad's ace as he hyperventilated, the stress and gravity of the situation finally bearing down on him. He didn't even care that he was whispering so quickly, and was ready to vomit again as soon as he could. Calming himself, Chad finally began to speak again. [color=a36209]"One of the professors got fucking chopped in half... There was some kind of monster over there... Oh god..."[/color] The sound of a tree falling in the far distance quickly forced Chad to jump, before he began to whisper as loudly as he could again. [color=a36209]"We got two options - running the hell out of here, or hiding somewhere. The murderer is on the other side of camp right now, so I'd be fine with either..."[/color] Chad's mind was racing to quickly... Someone fucking died... No, two people died. He didn't trust himself to make a decision. He'd end up running into problems quick, and may even end up lost in the woods with a massive killer. Thanks to the huge difference in appearance, Chad didn't even connect Scott to the murder - he simply was jealous that Scott fucked off when he did and managed to escape this situation.