Time Travel

Campfire

Heya sorry that I messed the timeline up a little bit with seeing Trevor before you hear the story so just pretend it's normal please 😬😂

Everyone's eyes were glued to Nurse Rita as she began her story.

At least, everyone except Trevor and Montana who were staring intently at each other, probably forming some kind of aerobics-romance or aeromance as you called it.

"In 1970, the caretaker here was.. a little bit off." Rita enticed, "His name was Benjamin Richter."

The name sounded familiar in your ears.

Your eyes must've widened since Xavier, who was sitting beside you, leant towards you and whispered a couple of words of reassurance.

"I've heard this one before," He grins, "It's just campfire nonsense."

"No," The nurse glares at the two of you, "This is not camp fire nonsense and it's certainly not made up, this is real."

"The name does sorta' sound familiar" Montana says, not particularly bothered by what Rita was saying.

In fact, Montana was probably more interested in the marshmallow she was toasting.

It had burnt.

"Anyways," Nurse Rita coughed the fire's smokey fumes from her throat, "He was known as Mr Jingles since when he walked, the keys would go..."

The nurse grabbed her car keys from her pocket and gently rattled them in her hands creating a slow and ominous atmosphere.

Brooke's hand went to her neck; she was nervous.

Brooke and Ray were sitting directly opposite you and Xavier, the only thing in between you was the blazing inferno of a fire that distorted the air with it's heat, making everything feel trippy.

It was then when you heard footsteps behind you and the faint rattle of metal against metal...

It was Margaret.

She rolled her eyes and proceeded to sit down beside Rita.

"If you are going to tell that story, you'd better tell it properly." She declared.

This time, everyone stared at Margaret, clearly wanting to hear whatever she had to say about Mr Jingles.

"Have you ever heard of the 1970s camp massacre? If you have, that was Mr Jingles and I was the only survivor." Margaret endured.

The only noise audible was the fire crackling in the silence that Margaret had plunged you in.

"It was July when Mr Jingles crept into our cabins and slaughter each and every one of my friends," Margaret gave a sob but somehow it sounded fake.

"But by some miracle, he had only punctured my left leg." She continued.

"All I could do was watch in horror as he leant down towards the counsellors carcasses and cut one of their ears off, it was truly horrific."

Margaret's tone of voice remained soft and mono throughout her speech, it was only when Chet butted in that she raised it.

"Why didn't you just run and yell for help?" Chet asked, "Or at least legged it to the payphone?"

Margaret glared at Chet.

The glare was more icy and cold than the one that Nurse Rita had glared at you with.

It sent chills down your spine and you were nowhere near her eye-line.

"I'm just getting to that point."

Margaret said through gritted teeth.