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Writer's pictureAnna DeWispelare

Missing

Updated: Jun 27

Featured Story Written By: Anna DeWispelare


The sun was setting and Dean knew he should be heading back to camp. He picked up his bag and grabbed his lantern, before starting the trek back. Dean walked for about an hour before he figured he’d probably made a wrong turn. He stopped and looked around at his unfamiliar surroundings. Dean set his bag down and put the lantern next to him, as he sifted through the contents of his bag. 


“The compass...the compass...where-” Dean said to himself, as he continued rummaging. He then realized that he’d left it in his tent back at camp. He cursed and stood up, trying to think of what to do. The sun was fully set now and the only light Dean had came from his lantern. With a sigh, he grabbed his things and began walking again. Dean stumbled repeatedly over the fallen tree branches that lay on the forest floor. 


“I oughtta slow down,” Dean thought, as he licked his parched quivering lips. As he walked, the forest had seemed to have gotten darker and more sinister. Shadows were cast amongst the trees from his lit lantern. He crept closer to the trees and raised his lantern near his face, illuminating it. A branch snapped and Dean stopped, his heart racing, blood pounding in his ears. His eyes darted from left to right, trying to see through the endless darkness. Something rustled in the bushes and Dean’s fight or flight response kicked in. He turned and ran, dropping the lantern to the ground in his haste, shattering it. 


"I oughtta slow down..."

He sprinted out of pure instinct back to the camp, in hopes of getting away from whatever was following him. As he continued running, something suddenly caught Dean’s foot causing him to lurch forward. Dean went down sprawling onto his stomach as dirt and pine needles splashed into his face. He laid there for a moment before he spat out the dirt and got back up. He looked down at his clothes now covered in dirt and pine needles. He brushed himself off quickly and calmed down. Once he was ready, he turned, but barely had time to make out the foggy apparition of a woman, as she let out a high pitched scream and flew straight at Dean! 


The next morning, back at camp, the campers realized that Dean hadn’t returned. They all called his name, hoping for an answer, but no call returned. The campers, as well as the camp leader, decided to get a search party together and go look for Dean. They all looked for several hours, but Dean was nowhere to be found. Dean wasn’t coming back. Then, one of the campers called out, “I found something!” Everyone hurried over. It wasn’t Dean, only the shattered remains of Dean’s lantern. The campers panicked and all wondered if it was Dean’s lantern. It was confirmed when they turned the lantern over and saw the name Dean written on the bottom of it. They all looked around hoping to find Dean coming out of the trees somewhere, but it was all too eerily silent. The campers stood quietly, hungry and thirsty. They had wasted almost an entire day looking for Dean.  


“Come on everyone, let’s head back to the camp, before the sun sets,” the camp leader said to all the younger boys. They all nodded and started heading back, but one of the campers decided to stay behind to investigate the area where Dean’s lamp was found. He nervously looked around and nearly screamed when he felt a deathly cold breath upon his neck. The camper spun around quickly and found himself face to face with Dean, dead Dean. The camper was paralyzed as the ghost of Dean smiled a bloody red smile. As the camper stood frozen to his spot, Dean leaned forward towards the boy’s face. The boy could smell the sickly stench of death on Dean and tried to keep his dinner down. 


“You’ll be next,” Dean whispered in a raspy voice before he stepped back and slowly faded. The camper stood for a moment, before finding the urge to move. He ran back to camp, trying to escape the shrill laugh of Dean ringing in his ears. 


"You'll be next."

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