Campfire Stories

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Campfire Stories Page 1

by Andres Miedoso




  CONTENTS

  Chapter One: Take a Hike

  Chapter Two: Middle of Nowhere

  Chapter Three: My Scary Story

  Chapter Four: How to Tell a Scary Story

  Chapter Five: Vampire Spider

  Chapter Six: Playground Panic

  Chapter Seven: Web of Fries

  Chapter Eight: Totally Made Up

  Chapter Nine: Frightened Away

  Chapter Ten: The Best Story of All

  About the Author and Illustrator

  CHAPTER ONE

  TAKE A HIKE

  Here is something most people don’t know about me: I really love camping. I know, I know. You may think there’s no way a scaredy-cat like me, Andres Miedoso, would be a fan of the great outdoors.

  But it’s true.

  I mean, don’t get me wrong. I don’t love everything about camping. I’m not a big fan of sleeping in a tent. I always get stuck with a stick or a rock under my sleeping bag. It’s impossible to get comfortable.

  And then there are the woods. Sometimes, when it’s really quiet, I wonder what’s going on out there.

  Is there something waiting for me?

  But if I hear all kinds of animal sounds outside, then I know exactly what’s out there waiting for me!

  Either way, it’s scary!

  Another thing I don’t love about camping is poison ivy. Every time I go into the woods, I find poison ivy. And trust me, I’m never looking for it!

  Sometimes I think poison ivy finds me!

  So do mosquitos and every other bug in the forest. That goes double for super-gross and slimy bugs. They all love me.

  Well, they love biting me.

  With poison ivy on my legs, and bug bites everywhere else, I spend most of our camping trips itching!

  Then there’s the weather. It rains whenever I go camping . . . every single time. And not just a little sprinkle either. I’m talking storms! It’s the worst.

  All that rain creates thick, gloppy mud. And that mud ends up all over the place. After my last camping trip, I found the longest, grossest dried-up mud gunk behind my ear . . . and that was a month after I went!

  So, why do I love camping? Well, that’s easy.

  S’mores!

  S’mores are the best. They are the perfect mix of crispy, sweet graham crackers; warm, melty chocolate; and hot, oozy marshmallow. And you get to cook them over a campfire and eat them on a stick.

  Sticks are cool too . . . except when you end up sleeping on one.

  But let me get to the story. There I am, sitting by the campfire enjoying my yummy s’more.

  That’s my best friend, Desmond Cole, sitting next to me. He’s about to tell a scary story. There’s nothing strange about that.

  However there’s nothing normal about what happened next. Nothing at all!

  CHAPTER TWO

  MIDDLE OF NOWHERE

  I wish it started with a scary story. And that none of it was real. But that wouldn’t be true.

  It ended with a scary story.

  Let’s start at the beginning.

  My family loved to go camping, but we hadn’t been in a long time. My parents were both really busy at work. And no, I can’t tell you any more about that because their jobs are top secret!

  Shhh.

  Anyway, one day Dad said, “Hey, Andres, how do you feel about a camping trip this weekend?”

  “Can I bring Desmond?” I asked, because he was my best friend. Also because this was Kersville, one of the most haunted places in the world. And Desmond was good to have around in case this turned into a haunted camping trip.

  “Of course,” Mom said. “I’ll ask his parents.”

  Zax floated into the room and asked me if he could come too.

  “Don’t you think my parents would notice a ghost in the woods?” I asked him.

  “Well, they’ve never noticed a ghost in their house,” he said.

  I had to admit that he had a good point. “Pack your bags,” I told him.

  Zax laughed and laughed. I guess ghosts don’t need backpacks!

  We ended up hiking through a place called Nowhere Valley. Talk about a terrible name for a hiking trail . . . and a valley! But I was with my parents, Desmond, and Zax. What could go wrong?

  Turns out, a lot could go wrong. But I didn’t know it then.

  The hike was actually pretty nice. The trail led through a thick forest, over small wooden bridges, and past waterfalls. Squirrels ran up and down trees, and there were so many colorful birds.

  Every time we spotted a new one, my parents would use their phones to find out what kind of bird it was. But as we got deeper into the woods, their phones lost their signals completely.

  That was when I found a lizard right in the middle of the path. And it let me pick it up. That lizard was so cute . . . I mean, um, cool.

  “Hey, Desmond,” I said. “Look what I found.”

  “Whoa,” Desmond said, moving away. “I don’t like lizards.”

  “Are you afraid of a tiny little lizard?” I asked him.

  “Sometimes tiny lizards grow into big problems,” he said and walked ahead of me.

  I didn’t know what he was talking about. That little lizard wouldn’t hurt a fly.

  Then the lizard actually stuck out its tongue and ate a fly. Talk about gross!

  I tried to put the lizard down in a thick bush, but Zax blocked me. “What’s the matter?” I asked him. “Are you scared of lizards too?”

  But Zax pointed to a sign I hadn’t seen before.

  Phew. I guess it was a good idea to bring Zax along.

  As the sun went down, we set up camp. My parents had the bigger tent. And the kids had the smaller tent. Well, the kids and the ghost.

  Once it got dark, things started to get creepier. All those trees cast dark shadows. Those squirrels and birds made rustling noises in the pitch-black night.

  And I couldn’t help wondering if there were lizard monsters out there!

  My parents built us a campfire. Desmond and Zax collected sticks. And me? I was planning to stay right there in our tent!

  But then I heard ringing that cut through the night.

  It was impossible.

  Both of my parents’ phones were ringing!

  CHAPTER THREE

  MY SCARY STORY

  I have never seen my parents scurry like that to answer their phones.

  Desmond watched them with his mouth hanging open. “There’s no signal out here,” he whispered to me. “Are their phones haunted?”

  I shook my head.

  The truth was that my parents were getting top secret calls from work.

  “We’re sorry,” Dad said. “We have to take these calls.”

  “Start eating, boys,” Mom said. “We’ll make s’mores later.”

  Then they dashed into their tent.

  I stood there thinking about s’mores for a little too long. When I snapped out of it, Desmond had already attacked the food. He left me half of a sandwich and crumbs at the bottom of the potato chip bag.

  Never turn your back on Desmond around food!

  My stomach grumbled as we sat around the campfire. I was about to bite into my sandwich when Zax said, “We should tell scary stories. You start, Andres.”

  The only scary stories I could think to tell were all true. And they all happened to me since I moved to Kersville. But Desmond and Zax already knew about those stories.

  So I bit into my sandwich and said, “Okay, I have one. It was a bright and sunny day, and this kid, like my age, was looking to buy a new bed.”

  “Was it you?” asked Desmond.

  “Did you wet your old bed?” asked Zax.

  “Yes,” I said, and then I realized it sounded like I was saying
yes to both questions. “No,” I said. “I mean, yes, it was me. But I didn’t wet my bed. I just needed a new bed, all right?”

  “Why?” Zax asked. That ghost wouldn’t leave me alone.

  So I mumbled real fast, “Because I was still using my baby mattress. And my parents told me I was too big for it. Okay? Are you gonna let me finish my story or what?”

  Zax nodded silently, but I could tell he was trying not to laugh at me.

  “Anyway,” I said, “we went to the bed store. I tried out every single bed they had. Firm beds. Fluffy beds. Bunk beds. Electric beds. Even waterbeds! You name it, I tried it.”

  Both Zax and Desmond seemed really interested in my story, so I continued. “Finally, I picked the bed I have now. My parents went to buy it, and I stood there thinking how weird it was that nobody ever sleeps in a bed store.”

  That was when Zax pretended to snore. He said, “Can someone wake me up when this story gets scary?”

  “Ha.” I fake laughed. “Here’s the scary part: I stood there surrounded by those beds, and I thought, what if there was a monster hiding under every single one. How freaky would that be?”

  Desmond and Zax perked up.

  “Whoa,” Desmond said. “Is that when a hundred monsters came slithering out from under all those beds?”

  I couldn’t tell if Desmond was scared or excited.

  Zax leaned forward. “Did they surround you?” he asked. “How did you escape?”

  I shook my head. “Monsters? Escape?” I asked. “What are you talking about? There weren’t any monsters. I was just wondering what if there was a monster under each bed. That would have been scary, right?”

  Zax and Desmond slumped back down.

  “Andres,” Zax said. “You don’t know how to tell a scary story. It might help if you heard a real ghost story . . . from a real ghost!”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  HOW TO TELL A SCARY STORY

  “It was a dark and stormy night,” Zax began. “Rain was falling hard and splattering against the windows like human fingers tap-tap-tapping to get inside.”

  Desmond and I shivered. This was going to be scary!

  Zax continued. “There was a boy around the same age as you two. He was living in a new house. A big, creepy house. It was his first night there, and the kid was trying to sleep when he heard a noise coming from the hallway. It was a loud CREAK!”

  Desmond and I jumped!

  Zax kept going. “The boy was shake-shake-shaking with fear. Then he heard a door open and slam shut. It made a loud CLAP! That set off a sharp SCREAM that ripped through the night!”

  Every time Zax yelled certain words, I gasped. I couldn’t help it. Even Desmond got startled.

  “The kid shot up in bed,” Zax continued, “and he tried to turn on a light, but the electricity was out. It was pitch-black in his room . . . until a bolt of lightning ZAPPED outside his window. It was followed by a low CRACK of thunder.”

  “Then what?” I asked.

  Zax gave me an evil smile.

  “The kid grabbed a flashlight and went to find his parents. But when he got to their room, it was empty. His parents were gone!” Zax said.

  “Where did they go?” Desmond asked.

  But Zax didn’t answer. He just kept telling his story. “That was when the boy heard another piercing SCREAM coming from the other end of the hall. Slowly, very slowly, the kid walked in that direction, step-by-step, until he came closer to the door that had been slammed shut.”

  Oh no, I thought. What could be behind that door?

  Zax lowered his voice, and Desmond and I had to lean in closer just to hear him. “A smell hung in the air,” Zax whispered. “It was an evil, rotten stench, one that made the kid gag. Whatever was hiding behind that door must have taken his parents. It was up to him to save them.”

  “What did he do?” Desmond asked, whispering too.

  “The kid took a deep, stinky breath,” Zax said, “and he pushed inside, shining a light on . . . . . . HIS PARENTS, WHO WERE CHANGING THE CRYING BABY’S DIRTY DIAPER!”

  Zax gave us his spookiest face, but Desmond and I just laughed.

  “Zax!” I said. “That’s not scary! I mean, it’s a little gross with the dirty diaper, but it’s not scary.”

  The ghost shuddered. “Believe me. Newborn humans are the scariest things in the world. And I’ve met a Zyzzoborg before.”

  Desmond and I nearly fell off our log laughing. Although I was a little nervous wondering what a Zyzzoborg might be, especially if it scared Zax.

  “Your turn, Desmond,” Zax said. “Why don’t you tell a scary story?”

  And that’s exactly what he did.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  VAMPIRE SPIDER

  Desmond cleared his throat. “Brace yourselves for a truly scary story.”

  Suddenly, a weird feeling came over us. It felt like we were being watched. We peered at the darkness, but we didn’t see anything out there. I tried to relax.

  “My story starts just like Andres’s story,” Desmond said. “It was a bright and sunny day. After raining for a week straight, the clouds parted and the sun shined down. All the Kersville kids couldn’t wait to go outside and play. So that’s what we did.”

  I smiled. There was nothing better than getting to go out after a bunch of rainy days.

  Desmond continued. “We all went down to the playground, but the playground was different!”

  Zax and I looked at each other.

  Desmond leaned forward on his log. “The whole playground was covered with a giant spiderweb!”

  Now Zax and I shivered.

  “None of the other kids wanted to get near it,” Desmond said. “But I walked right up to that web and studied it. Up close, the ropes of the web were thick. It was sticky, too. But with some work, I was able to pull it apart, kind of like cotton candy.”

  I made a face. “That sounds like the most disgusting cotton candy on the planet.”

  “Once the spider-web was gone,” Desmond said, “the kids started playing on the playground. But I couldn’t stop thinking about that web. I checked every hiding place at the playground for whatever spider could make something that big. But I couldn’t find a thing.”

  The look on Desmond’s face told me that there was more to this story. A lot more. My heart started beating a little harder.

  Desmond kept going. “I tried to enjoy the park, but I had an extra case of the creepy-crawlies. It really felt like something was crawling in my hair or on my arms and legs. I knew a web like that had to be made by a whole nest of spiders, not just one.”

  A whole nest of spiders?

  Just thinking about that freaked me out. I jumped up off my log and did a creepy-crawly dance. I shook every part of my body, even my baby toes, just to make sure there were no spiders on me.

  Desmond and Zax laughed, but the fire crackled loudly. It almost sounded mad at us for interrupting the story.

  I checked the log to make sure there were no spiders on it, and then I sat back down.

  “Okay,” Desmond said. “As I was saying, we had a lot of fun that day, and there were zero spiders around. Or so I thought. I climbed to the top of the big slide, and when I got to the bottom, I bumped right into . . .”

  Desmond stopped talking to leave us in suspense.

  It worked. Both Zax and I were on the edge of our logs, hanging on Desmond’s words.

  Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Who did you bump into?” I asked.

  Desmond laughed. “I bumped into Super-Healthy Hannah.”

  I sighed. “That’s not scary!” I told him. “That’s not even weird. Hannah is always at the park. She loves being outdoors.”

  Super-Healthy Hannah was a girl from our school. She was a true vegetarian and loved hiking. I have no idea how she got her nickname, but it was perfect for her. She really was super-healthy.

  “Oh wait”—Desmond paused—“I left out the weird part: Super-Healthy Hannah was eating fast food! She had a Dou
ble Biggie Burger with extra-large fries and a gallon of soda!”

  Zax gasped at this, but I was pretty sure he didn’t even know Hannah.

  I shook my head. “No way. You’re making this up. Super-Healthy Hannah is always super-healthy.”

  Desmond replied, “But this was before she was Super-Healthy Hannah. Actually, this is why she became Super-Healthy Hannah.”

  I still wasn’t ready to believe him, but I wanted to hear what else Desmond had to say. “Go ahead.”

  “Cool,” he said. “So, I slid down the slide and bumped into Hannah. She spilled that huge soda all over the place, and let me tell you that she was really mad about that. But instead of yelling at me, she pointed behind me and screamed.”

  Then Desmond screamed, and my heart practically stopped.

  “Don’t do that!” I hissed.

  Desmond just smiled and kept going with his story. “I turned around. You wouldn’t believe what I saw. It had eight legs, eight eyes, and two fangs that were dripping with red, red blood!”

  I sucked in my breath.

  Desmond looked at both Zax and me and said, “I was face-to-face with a vampire spider!”

  CHAPTER SIX

  PLAYGROUND PANIC

  If I could have jumped out of my skin, I would have. Because spiders are bad, but vampire spiders? I didn’t know what they were, and I didn’t want to know, thank you very much!

 

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