Episode 174 - Campfire Tales #7

This week Abby presents two spooky stories. 

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Chapters

• 0:00 Welcome And Intentions
• 2:54 Community Call To Action
• 3:49 Story One: Lost In The Snow
• 8:04 The Thing By The Fire
• 11:19 Story Two: The Girl In The Mask
• 17:39 Into The Woods

Transcript

SPEAKER_00: 1:37

Hello, everyone, and welcome back to another episode of the Lunatics Radio Hour Podcast. My name is Abby Branker, and today I'm really excited to share with you all a few stories that I have actually written. These are not brand new stories, they exist already in my horror stories anthology, which came out quite a few years ago now. But I'm really excited to share them with you. One of my 2026 goals is to try to make a little more time for writing and the creativity that initially started this project. So making a little space today to share these stories that I wrote with you all. Of course, we have one more episode in our winter horror series, and so that will be coming next week. And at least the first story that I'm going to read today is quite on the nose for the themes that we've been talking about. I also just want to take a moment to address what's happening in the United States right now and to encourage everyone to try and help in any way you can. I think it's really hard, you know, for me it feels very hard and overwhelming to know what to do or how to make any kind of difference at all. And I think the thing that I've learned from my friends over the past few weeks is the best thing to do is try to help your community and help communities that you can reach, right? So with everything going on in Minnesota, there's so many sources online that are offering up GoFundMe's for people or raising money. If you're in Minnesota different ways, you can go and volunteer or be part of protests. This isn't normal, this isn't legal, this isn't constitutional. And if anyone has really good resources or tips for people who are trying to get involved in their communities and you want to send those to us, we'll also definitely feature those on the podcast and on social media. But as always, stay safe for sure. But without further ado, here's the first story. She was out of breath. She could barely keep walking. She wheeled one leg a few inches forward and paused. It was too hard. She stumbled to her knees in the snow. The sun was starting to dip under the tree line. Karen again she heard her name called out. The wind was carrying the sound. She couldn't figure out where her friends had gone. She'd gotten separated from them when she went to relieve herself. She'd been chasing their calls for hours, but she couldn't connect with them. Tears were freezing as they dropped from her eyes. It hurt to blink. It hurt to move at all. But the snow was so cold. Please, Karen screamed. I'm right here, please. I can't keep her voice gave out. She punched the snow in frustration. Karen Karen The ethereal voice called for her again. Why couldn't she find them? They seemed so close. She kept thinking about the warm fire, the marshmallows they had bought in the grocery store in town. But this wasn't supposed to happen. She kept thinking back to the moment she'd wandered off. If only she'd gone alone. They had a buddy system in place, but one can of cheap beer, and she was overconfident. It's not funny, she cried. Please. She sat on her knees and sobbed for a moment. She didn't even notice the dark figure as it silently crept towards her. And then all was black. She felt consciousness return to her before she could see anything. Her arms were tied down, so were her legs. She could hear the crackling of a fire. She felt the heat of flames licking her face, but her body was still frozen through. She opened her eyes and screamed. There was a figure standing before her. It looked like a man, but it didn't look human. There was something totally off about it. His skin was grey and gaunt. His face was inches from hers. She could smell his rancid breath. Drool was pooling in his lips and dripping down his chin. She wanted to throw up. There was evil in his hollow eyes. He had scraps of hair on his head and body. He looked more like a reanimated corpse than a human. If she didn't know any better, she'd have thought he returned from the dead, but that was impossible, right? She could hear her name again. The whispering wind surrounded her with Karen Karen Karen Karen She yelled out, I'm here, please help me, I'm right here. And then she fell silent. She watched his lips as he called out Karen Karen Karen. The soft sound didn't match his cruel exterior. You she stammered. There was a small fire next to her, and nothing else, except what looked like bones. She started to thrash, pushing as hard as she could against her bindings. That was definitely a pile of bones. They looked like human femurs, human ribs, skulls, totally clean of any flesh that had ever clung to them. She twisted and turned. She screamed at the top of her lungs, spit flew from her lips. She clawed at the air, desperate for escape. He laughed. Her blood was thick and dark. Soon her screams faded into the same wind that lured her there. This next story is certainly not really on theme for us, but it's one of my favorite stories. And I'm not sure, it may be on the podcast, I'm not sure if it ever has been featured on the podcast before. So it's something different. I hope you enjoy it. Eric did not want to go to the stupid cabin. He didn't like leaving the city and his friends. He especially didn't like being trapped in the middle of nowhere with his dad and older brother. He knew the city streets as if they were part of his DNA, but the country confused him. Everything twisted and turned. The trees grew in unruly patterns. He hated the sound of the breeze as it passed through the leaves and sent a shiver down his spine. He tiptoed into his older brother's room. Can I sleep in here with you tonight? His older brother Patrick peeked out from behind the comic book he was reading. His jet black hair fell in front of his eyes. Eric always marveled at how effortlessly cool Patrick was. Sorry, man, I need my beauty sleep tonight, and your sleep talking is out of control. Patrick flipped his comic book back up and continued to read. Eric sighed. I barely sleep talk anymore. Patrick lowered the book again. Oh yeah? How would you know? Eric was weary of being vulnerable with Patrick. Not because Patrick was unkind, but because Eric hated feeling like the weak little brother. He was only four years younger, but at his age it felt like a lifetime. The divide between middle school and high school was vast. He threw caution to the wind. I don't like this house, it freaks me out. This time Patrick really put down the comic book, and fixed Eric with one of his attentive and very present looks. Come here, Patrick tossed the reading material down. Eric walked into the room and sat at the edge of his older brother's bed. Patrick smiled. You know, there's nothing to be scared of, right? Nothing is going to happen to you. No ghosts are going to jump out in the night. Patrick looked warmly at his little brother. I'm not afraid of ghosts, Eric shifted uncomfortably in his seat. I just don't like the vibe here. It's so quiet and different from home. Different is good. The more time you spend in other places, the more you appreciate them. Eric sighed. Patrick went on. Isn't it nice to have a break from the city? All the noise and people? Suddenly a door slammed, and the sound of shuffling came from the cabin's main room. Both boys jumped to their feet. There was a blur, as something or someone rushed by Patrick's open door. Patrick was moving much faster than Eric's mind. He quickly reached his left arm into the hallway and grabbed the intruder. Eric jumped back in shock. Patrick was confused as he surveyed his captive. She must have been eight or nine, tops. Her greasy black hair was long and straight. She was wearing a white masquerade style mask, with straight bunny ears shooting up over her head. It covered her eyes and nose. The girl kept moving her head as if she was looking around the room. She never focused on the boys. Eric wondered if she was blind. She was humming to herself and barely fighting against Patrick's restraint. Eric's first thought was that something was wrong. She was so young. The scene was hard to digest. His eyes dropped down to her lips, chin, and teeth. They were stained a deep, dark red. A sharp pang crept into his chest. What's going on in there? Eric's dad called from his bedroom. Am I missing something fun? Dad, come here. Patrick called back, still holding the girl. Hurry. I don't like this. What's on her face? Eric asked Patrick softly. As he spoke, the girl looked towards Eric. The mask didn't have eye holes, but she seemed to focus on him for a second as if she had X-ray vision. Eric didn't understand why the mask wouldn't have cutouts to see through. Are you okay? Patrick whispered to the girl. Her head shifted towards his voice for only a moment before she started moving again. She said nothing, but continued to hum. It wasn't a tune, more like a tone, a steady sound. Patrick could see that Eric was unnerved. Don't freak out. She's just a little girl. Maybe we should call someone to help? Eric suggested. The brothers looked at her, fearing what she might have lived through at such a young age. Eric's stomach flipped. This was just a little girl, but wherever she came from was not somewhere a little girl should be. Yeah, I think so. Patrick reached out his free hand to pat his little brother on his back, and like lightning, the girl took her opportunity. She sprinted forward right into the door frame. She crashed hard into the wall, but the force freed her from Patrick's grip. Shoot, he yelled as she ran just as fast in the other direction, slamming into the wall across the hallway. Why didn't she reach out her arms to feel? Eric thought to himself, as he started to trail behind her. His concern for her trumped his fear for what she might do. Dad, this is an emergency. Patrick yelled from behind Eric. Eric kept up with her, watching as she stumbled around the furniture in the house. She was moving quickly but constantly met with obstacles. Finally she came to the front door. Oh shit, she's gonna get away. The little girl pulled open the door just seconds before Eric reached her. He sped up as he followed her outside. He wasn't wearing any shoes, and his socks were immediately drenched in the wet grass. A misty fog blanketed the air and dampness. Eric focused on the little girl. She was sprinting towards the woods. As they ran away from the cabin lights, it became harder to see. He pulled out his cell phone and fumbled to turn on the flashlight. Eric knew he'd probably lose her in the forest. He didn't know the area and he wasn't used to the terrain. He lengthened his stride, hoping to catch up with her before she disappeared. He felt an overwhelming need to protect her. Eric, wait up! He could hear the sounds of his brother and father approaching. They were faster than he was. They would catch up soon. He kept moving. He passed into the forest, into the tree covered canopy. It was pitch black besides the narrow beam of white light coming from his phone. He was in a horror movie. He stumbled over tree branches and rocks as he ran. He wished he was back in the city, but he felt compelled to keep moving forward. Eric noticed that the little girl didn't crash into any trees or rocks in her path. He wondered why she had such problems with cabin walls. The sounds of his brother and father seemed to be fading. Why hadn't they caught up yet? It didn't make sense. They were both so much taller and faster than he was. He could barely hear their shouting voices or heavy footsteps. They felt far away, but he couldn't bring himself to look behind him. He didn't want to take his eyes off of her. His vision started to tunnel. The gray trees and branches on the outer edge of his flashlight beam were replaced with a dark black border. The woods seemed to shift, like he was passing through to a new space or time. He was in a daze. He couldn't stop. Patrick! He tried to yell, but nothing came out. Dad. He realized he was only shouting in his head. His feet propelled him forward. He squinted. Now nothing seemed clear to him except the little girl. Blurry light and dark shapes pulsed from her and surrounded her as she led him onwards. She turned around to look at him. He stopped short. Her eyes were glowing red through her mask. He could see red light shining through the material. He inhaled sharply. He felt like she was looking right into his soul, into his heart. Like she could see every bit of his insides, every moment from his past. She went to him and clasped his hand. He could barely see now. Everything was dark. He heard murmurs, noises. He tilted his head back and forth, trying to follow the sounds. He was blind. But he didn't panic. It was as if he was drugged, some invisible force was keeping his emotions in check, calming his nerves. He clutched on to the little girl's hand and tried to ignore the memory of the dark red substance that had dried on her teeth. Eric knew that his brother and dad weren't close to him anymore. He couldn't sense them. Where? He tried to speak, but again nothing came out. His vocal cords would only emit humming noises now. She started on his left hand. He could feel the sensation of her teeth digging into his flesh, but it felt muted. He could handle the pain. Eric felt more mouths join in, gently gnawing on his skin, blood and eventually bones. Despite the terror he knew he should feel, he peacefully faded away. I guess both of these stories had a little bit of a cannibalism theme going on. I still think the cannibalism series that we did on this podcast is one of my favorites. I also just want to say we're doing things a little bit differently for Campfire Tales this year. We're going to effectively be moving away from Lunatics Library, which means that we are not going to necessarily always be doing story episodes that are paired to certain topics that we're discussing on our history episodes, but we are going to be doing more Campfire Tale episodes and featuring stories from really amazing writers that are not necessarily unified by topic, which I think just opens it up a little bit more. And of course, my friend Alex Goleman is going to be joining us this year to host those as well, just like he did last year. Submissions for Campfire Tales are not currently open. However, we are looking for any personal, firsthand, nonfiction, strange experiences you might have had. If you saw an alien or a UFO or you had some kind of paranormal experience you can't explain, or anything like that, a glitch in the matrix story, just any kind of weird run-in with a murderer, whatever it is, we want to hear from you. We used to do a series much more often called Real Scary Stories, and I would love to bring that back a little bit more this year because that's one of my favorite pastimes. So if you have a story like that, you can reach out to us at films about lunatics at gmail.com. If you write up what happened to you and give us your name or how you want to be addressed on the podcast, and we will read it in an upcoming episode. Again, that's films about lunatics at gmail.com. As always, thank you all so much for being here and supporting this podcast as we continue to evolve and grow. We started this podcast in 2019, and Lunatics itself started in 2017, so it's about nine years old. And it's I just am very grateful for this community that allows us to kind of evolve and change as time goes on. And speaking of evolution, I have started a new tier on Patreon, and for$5 a month, you get access to the seasonal tarot mailer that I've started, which means that you get a personalized tarot card pull every season, so four times a year, along with other essays and art and different types of material that focus on one singular theme that we're kind of exploring that season. To me, that I don't know, it's been like a really cool, unexpected, fulfilling thing to start and do. And if you're someone who is into tarot and learning about the history of those sorts of things, the history of the occult and divination, and again, just trying to learn and understand the role that it played in history. That's really what it's about. Plus, of course, connecting, you know, in plus, of course, connecting with a modern community who uses tarot in different ways, right? For me, it's definitely a bit of a journaling self-reflection tool, less of a fortune teller tool, but everybody has their own version of that in mind, certainly ebbs and flows. So if you're interested in that, you can find the Lunatics Project on Patreon, and that's been a really cool, fun thing for me. I'm also getting into writing Substack essays this year. So anyway, thank you guys again for being around as we continue to refine what the Lunatics Project is. Stay spooky, stay safe, talk to you soon. Bye.