Campfire Stories: The Burning

There’s a camp not far from here, just across the lake. It was called Camp Blackfoot. No one goes there anymore. Everything burnt down. This camp had a caretaker. His name was Cropsy. Now, this cropsy was a sadist, and he got real pleasure out of hurting people. Scaring them. And he had these… garden sheers. The kind with long, thin blades. And he carried them all the time, wherever he went. And he had this kind of demonic way of looking at you.

One time Cropsy really went after this kid from Brooklyn. Followed him around night and day, and made this kid’s life a living hell. But this time he chose the wrong guy, because the kid and some of his buddies had planned a little prank. The only problem was… the gag went wrong. The next thing anyone knows, Cropsy’s trapped alive and burning in his bunk. They try to get him out but the fire’s so fierce they cant reach him. All they can do is stand outside and listen to him cry out in agony. They say he smashed his way through the bunk room door, just a mass of flames. And as he burned alive he cried out.. “I will return!” “I will have my revenge!”

They never found his body. He survived. He lives on whatever he can catch. Eats them raw. Alive. No longer human. Right now, he’s out there. Watching. Waiting.

Don’t look… he’ll see you. Don’t move… he’ll hear you. Don’t breathe… you’re dead!