It was fox’s idea to come here not mine, It was Maryanne’s idea to light the campfire and Tam’s idea to start the stories it was my idea to go home, but no one EVER listens to my ideas. We sit around the cluster of logs, fox using his expertly expert skills to start the fire (which is never going to happen) Tam and Maryanne are eyeing each other up as if they are both about to pounce on the other one. “Fox” Tam barks “can you get that ruddy fire going, I can’t kiss Maryanne in the dark, I’ll end up kissing her forehead.” I groan begging Maryanne not to brake out her public displays of affection act. I shiver, heaving my coat on over my shoulders.

“So!” Maryanne purrs, “Who’s ready for the....ScArY storiessses!” I moan, and pull my hood over my head. Tam rubs his hands together as if he’s trying to create a fire of his own. A psychotic smile cracks his face in two. “Can I tell the first story?” He growls. Maryanne squeals, stamping her Doc’martins against the floor, and grabbing Tams hand in hers. Maryanne and Tam are one of those couples that look so good on Instagram but in reality weren’t all what they were cut out to be. The only reason they haven’t broken up yet is because both of them create this fake photogenic universe for their social media, Maryanne has a ridiculous amount of followers and she likes it that way.

Tam clears his throat a demented look glazing over his eyes. Fox takes the seat beside me, after finally creating some sort of a flame. “Let’s begin!” Cries Tam, and so his story unfolds.

“Once upon a time, let’s say like 200 years ago lived a privileged and wealthy family. The lord and lady of the family bore only one child, a daughter. The both of them swore from the second the baby was born that they would always always keep her safe. The daughter grew into a beautiful flower, blonde hair, green eyes, you know the deal. The one thing that wasn’t perfect about the girl was her wild spirit, untameable, un-ladylike. Her parents sent her away, to tame her, turn her into a lady. Nothing would work. They became concerned for her safety, the only way to keep her perfectly safe for eternity was to bond her with another person, a strong person who could protect her. And so, the son of Lord Packston, Albert, would ask for the daughters hand in marriage and she would accept.

But the girl had fallen in love with someone else, someone who was wild and free, just like her. On the day of her wedding she fled, escaped into the forest. As an act of worth and masculinity Albert was told to retrieve his fiancé from the dangers of the forest. It took him a few hours to find her and once he did he confessed his deep undying love for her. But the daughter did not love him, she refused to return with him.

Albert loved fiercely and hated fiercely. His love turned to anger in the space of a second, he lost himself in his rage and sadness, holding a dagger above his

wife-to-be’s chest. He plunged the dagger into her abdomen, taking her life with it. Shocked at what his hate had forced him to do Albert took his own life to repay and punish his evil. His ghost is said to be still roaming the earth searching desperately for his fiancé who he shall never find, he is hungry for blood, angered, guilty, looking for another lover who he can drag into the underworld alongside him!”

Maryanne yelped “Oooo Tam I didn’t know you were so dark and brooding.” Tam begins to blush, Fox begins to scoff. “Please!” Fox sniggers, “that was not a horror story, that was a luuuuvvv story.” Maryanne giggles, mildly embarrassing Tam. “Like you can do any better!” Tam roars, fox grins and opens his mouth...

“Ok then, if you want a proper horror story, Once upon a time 100 years in the future this kid called Will discovered he had a sweet tooth for human flesh, his first victim was his sister, he ate her. It was quite unfortunate really. Then he bit his best friend but only on the arm. His crazy cannibalistic DNA swarmed into the blood of his best friend kinda like an invasion and so the cannibal virus began. More and more people were eating their friends and so I am very sorry to say that the population minimised quite a lot. It only took 24 hours for all 7 billion people on the earth to be infected. In the end everyone ate everyone else.”

Fox is smiling at everyone else, as if his story is actually scary or anything. “THAT was so bad!” Laughs Maryanne, clutching her stomach. Fox looks slightly hurt. “Ok,ok,ok.” She heaves with giggles, “it’s time for MYYYYY scaryyyy story!”

She draws a deep breath.

“A long time ago there was this doll with a porcelain face and big glass eyes. The doll was called Hetty. Every night Hetty would sing this freaky creepy song that went like this: ring a ring a rosies a pocket full of posies, slice, slice, slice they all fall apart. Anyways when she sung the song it meant she was hungry for blood. The first person she killed was irrelevant but then more and more people began to drop dead, until an entire town was down. People say if you sing the song Hetty hears you and her thirst for blood grows and sh.......”

Fox Interrupts the tale, “THAT IS AN AWFUL STORY!!!!!!” Maryanne slaps him across the face a harsh poker face coming on. Tam turns his face towards me, “What’s your story?” He questions a strange smile slipping against his cheeks. I shrug I don’t know any story’s but I tell them the one I remember my camp leader told me yearsssss ago.

“Ok so once upon a time there was this girl called Abby. She was different I guess, she was confident, she was a feminist. Her friends laughed at her told her to shutup and get a husband, start a family. But instead of a family Abby started a business. She sold herbs, strange herbs, dark herbs, magic herbs. The medicines she sold people did funny things to them, burnt them, turned them inside then out. Abby was what you might call a witch. She created potions In the night smuggling ingredients for her cauldron. The people of the town wanted her dead, wanted her gone. And so they sentenced her to death and burned her at the stake, but she would not burn. Her flame lasted for 7 hours and finally ended at 3am, the witching hour, the unlikely hour, the death hour. They say if you wake at 3am and call Abby’s name and ask her for herbs she will come for you, she will do stuff to you, Abby seeks revenge for her death and the girls who lost their lives to the witch trials.”

Tam laughs “Wooow, so scary that was just some GiRl PowEr mumbo jumbo about feminism. How about we try shouting out her name, it is 3:15!” And so Tam grinned into the night and screamed: “Abby! Come get meeeee!” Silence followed. Fox grinned and began to put the fire place out. Maryanne huffed doing up her shoelaces. Tam smiled, happy that he had proved a point. We all got up, knowing it was time we headed back to our tent.

We said our good nights, Tam gave Maryanne a firm kiss on the forehead. Fox and I shook hands as if we were making some weird truce. There were noise in the night, screams, perhaps it was Albert’s ghost searching for his lover, maybe it was the Hetty doll singing for murder, maybe it was the cannibalise virus, maybe it was Abby the witch or maybe it was just a fox or an agitated baby. We woke to the scent of burning, something herbal. Tam was not in his tent, his sleeping bag was covered in blood, flesh, bone, animal feathers, runes, strange languages, signs, dead animals, ferns, leaves and the unmistakable aroma of burning.