The family is alone. Deep, deep in the woods in a clearing of dying grass. The unforgiving dark lake that appears jet black infront of the blood red tents sits still and silent waiting for a victim to get to close to the hidden current just below the surface. The wind blows once every few minutes ruffling the crunchy leaves causing it to sound like footsteps, but then deserts the scene leaving the campsite dead silent.

A blood curdling scream rips through the clearing that sounds like the scream of someone getting painfully tortured as the two kids of the family run around playing tag. The stationary grill is black and the ashes blow around as a sudden gale of wind batters through the campsite. It smacks against the bloody maroon tents and sounds like the banging of door.

Whence nighttime settles onto the campsite the kids and the mother and father retreat into their respected tents. Lightning cracks in the sky and thunder shakes the ground shortly afterwards signaling that rain would come and disturb the happy sunny days at the campsite. Will the family make it out in time?

The gloomy clouds drift across the blackened sky and infront of the pale full moon casting shadows like huge homicidal giants on the landscape below. The two kids huddle together in the tent as the wind picks up and creates an awful whistling sound as it moves through the looming trees of the foreboding forest.

The laughter of the children echoes through the campsite as they tell each other tales of delight but the sound gets horribly distorted by the wind and new coming rain causing it now to sound like clowns laughing in the back room of an abandoned circus tent. The kids fall asleep giggling and the sun shines through the tent’s door casting a shadow of a person standing right infront of the tent, watching, waiting.

The older of the two siblings creeps towards the door drowsily and unzips it. A scream tears through the child’s throat as the father, holding a butcher knife, brings it up into the air and…

Smiles. The father smiles down at the child who is screaming with delight as he presents a plate with bacon and cake on it.

“Happy birthday, kiddo!”

“Thanks! It’s my favorite! Where’s mom?”

“Don’t worry you’ll see her soon!”

“Okay! Wait… no dad! Stop! Help! ple-“

She didn’t even notice her sibling was gone when she woke up. Maybe it could’ve been prevented if she did notice. Or maybe noticed the gash in the side of the tent where her little brother slept the night before. Or the blood on the pillow. Or the screaming. The cacophony of screaming from her mother and little brother. It’s a shame she had to join them. And a shame that the forest was so dense her father got away with it all.