Camp Cannibal: A Camp Camp Fanfic

Caught Red-Handed

For the remainder of the morning and afternoon, Max wandered aimlessly. He spent every minute trying his damn best to avoid Matt like the plague. Every now and then, he would involuntarily catch Matt's eyes as they glanced at each other. What was weird to Max, though, was how Matt seemed to share the sentiment of keeping his distance. Not that Max was complaining, but it was odd. Very odd. 

As night fell, the sky slowly darkening, Max felt an abnormally cold chill travel through the air.

What the hell? It's summer!

As if it were an omen, silence fell over the camp following the chill. It was dark, WAY too dark for a summer night, even with the moon missing. 

Max was standing outside the doors of the mess hall, simply staring at the starless sky. It was around ten thirty p.m. at least. He had snuck out of his tent because he couldn't force himself to shut his eyes with the parasite known as Matthew still scouring around the camp. So here he sat, outside two giant locked doors waiting for nothing in particular. His eyes slowly, yet observantly, traveled over every tent. He was on a self-appointed night watch. Every inch of the camp was under his cyan gaze as he made sure not a trace of Matt was anywhere that it didn't belong. His skin had a greyish tint due to the stress and sleepiness from years of neglect. Now, thanks to Matthew, it had only worsened.

He took a deep breath and leaned harder against the wooden doors, his eyes starting to desperately droop as his young body demanded sleep. Despite continuously screaming in his head not to fall asleep, he felt his body begin to sag and his mind lose consciousness.

Suddenly, his eyes shot open as the sound of rustling bushes in the near distance invaded his ears. Slowly, he turned his head to the left, eyeing the dense forest the surrounded the camp near the entrance. He would've ignored it due to the possibility of it just being an animal. However, the sudden flash of faded white cloth erased said possibility completely from his mind.

Glaring in the direction of the sound, Max slowly rose from his place and began to follow, his footsteps as silent as a floating feather. Ignoring the unnatural chilliness, he removed his hood in the hopes of following the noises better.

More rustles and shaking ensued as he cautiously made his way over logs, rocks, and a small crick he had never seen before. With the sudden appearance of such random dangerous obstacles, he swore he was in an entirely new forest. The rustling began to gain distance on him. In a desperate hurry, Max starting skipping over rocks and stumps, constantly risking serious cuts and falls.

Suddenly, the rustling stopped. There was a scream of pain.

As he approached an opening between a wall of trees, he heard...noises. Sickening noises. Noises that sounded just wrong in every way.

Hacking. Cracking. Splitting. Ripping.

He dared to inch closer.

Dripping. Sloshing. Squishing. Wringing.

He dared to look through the trees.