A campfire story by Lorraine Carey
Mysterious Getaway
Crystal, Shawna, Faith, and Melynda had been counting down
the days. Their long-awaited ‘girls’ getaway’ was finally upon them. It had
been months of planning, and with Spring Break in full swing at Desert Ridge Elementary,
all four teachers were desperate for a break. The stress of their rowdy fourth
graders had worn them thin, but for Crystal, the weight of the year was
heavier—just a few months ago, her grandmother had passed away, and the grief
still lingered.
Shawna had taken charge of the arrangements and booked a
stay at the Albuquerque KOA Journey Campground. It wasn’t far—just a half-hour
drive from their homes in Rio Rancho—but in the Land of Enchantment, even short
trips felt like escapes. Shawna had planned for them to stay in two separate
cabins, one for herself with Crystal and Faith and Melynda in another.
Together, they piled into Shawna’s SUV, music blasting, singing along to the
latest pop hits.
As they hit Route 66, the landscape stretched out before
them—endless desert, rugged mountains, and the promise of adventure. Soon
enough, they pulled up to the campground, the rustic cabins nestled beneath the
looming Sandia Mountains, their jagged peaks bathed in the fading light of the
setting sun. The girls could already feel the magic of the place, the world
quieting around them as the vibrant pinks and purples of the mountains
intensified with dusk.
After a hearty New Mexico meal in the guest kitchen,
everyone was eager to stretch their legs. They made their way toward the
farthest firepit, nestled on a quiet rise that offered an even better view of
the mountain range. Thermoses filled with hot coffee and tea in hand, Crystal
reminded them to grab jackets as the desert air would soon turn cold. At forty,
she often played the role of the motherly figure, the one with a steady
presence and a knack for sensing what others needed—some even said she had a ‘sixth
sense.’ Her friends didn’t ask questions; they simply trusted her.
As they approached the firepit, they saw the groundskeeper,
a silent figure, tending to the flames. Four chairs were arranged around the
crackling fire, waiting for them. The girls settled in, the warmth of the fire
offering a sharp contrast to the encroaching chill of the night.
Shawna, ever the instigator, suggested, “Tell us a story,
Crystal. You’re half Navajo, you must have some legends tucked away.”
The others eagerly agreed, their voices rising in unison,
“Yes, tell us!”
Crystal hesitated, a wry smile curling on her lips. “I don’t
want to scare anyone off,” she teased, taking a long sip of her coffee.
Faith, always the skeptic, chuckled. “No way you’re scaring
me off after last week’s chaos in my classroom.”
Crystal’s gaze drifted to the fire, the flames dancing
hypnotically as sparks swirled into the night air like ghostly whispers. The
coyotes’ distant howls broke the silence, sending a shiver down Melynda’s
spine. She jumped in her seat.
“Maybe they want to join us,” Faith joked.
“Nah,” Crystal’s voice was calm, but there was a strange
edge to it. “They’re harmless.”
The others fell silent, waiting for Crystal to speak.
After a long pause, she began: “The Navajo speak of Skinwalkers—shape-shifters
who can take the form of any animal. But they’re more than that. They can steal
your soul; make you do things... unspeakable things. They can even take the
voice of your loved ones to lure you into the darkness.”
Melynda leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. “Have you ever
encountered one?”
Crystal’s eyes glinted in the firelight. “Not me, but my
grandfather did.”
The night seemed to grow colder as Crystal spoke, her words
sinking deeper into the air around them.
“They can hear your thoughts,” she continued, her voice low,
almost a whisper. “and they can use the voice of someone you trust to draw you
in. They’re never as far as you think.”
Shawna pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders. “Do
you think one’s out here? In the mountains?”
Crystal met Shawna’s gaze, her face unreadable. “What do you
think? You live in New Mexico.”
“Why would they come here?” Shawna asked, her voice barely
above a whisper.
“Some places are... easier to reach," Crystal replied,
her gaze turning toward the full moon, glowing unnaturally bright above them.
“They need darkness to thrive.”
The girls sat in tense silence until Shawna broke it with a
question. “How do you kill one?”
Crystal’s eyes flickered with a dark understanding. “A
bullet dipped in white ash. But even then... it’s never certain.”
The fire crackled, the air thick with unease. Faith
nervously whistled, attempting to break the tension, but Crystal’s voice rang
out sharply. “Stop! Don’t do that. It taunts the spirits.”
The group fell silent, the weight of Crystal’s words
settling over them like a heavy fog. After a long moment, Crystal stood up
abruptly, her chair scraping against the stone. She picked up her thermos, her
face pale.
“I’m not feeling well,” she murmured, her voice tight. “I
think I ate too much at dinner. I’m going to lie down.”
The girls exchanged uncertain glances as Crystal left, her
footsteps fading into the night.
Shawna, Faith, and Melynda stayed behind, the firelight
flickering in the growing darkness as they each shared a story—nothing as
chilling as Crystal’s. The coyotes had quieted, and the air was thick with an
uneasy calm.
But when Shawna went to check on Crystal, she found the
cabin empty. The bed was perfectly made, the bathroom unoccupied. Panic gripped
her as she rushed back to the firepit, shouting to the others. “Crystal’s
gone!”
They turned to see Melynda staring up into the sky, her face
pale. “There’s something up there... a huge crow, circling.”
“Forget the crow!” Shawna shouted. “We need to find
Crystal.”
The crow swooped low, almost touching the flames, before it
shot back into the night sky, disappearing beyond the ridge of the Sandia
Mountains.
The girls exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of Crystal’s
disappearance settling over them like a shadow. Melynda’s voice trembled as she
spoke. “Maybe... maybe she really did need to get away.”
“And so, you think she just turned into a crow?” Faith
snapped back.
Shawna turned to look back in the direction of the crow. “Well, anything’s possible out here. Fact is, Crystal’s gone, and we still need to do something!”
Faith and Melynda stood frozen, their breaths visible in the
cold desert air as the fire crackled, casting shadows that seemed to move with
a life of their own. Shawna clutched her jacket, her knuckles white. “We can’t
just stand here. We have to look for her. What if she’s hurt? What if that old
groundskeeper took her? You know how men react to her beauty.”
Faith nodded, though her eyes betrayed her fear. “I’ll go
back to the main lodge and see where he went then when I come back we’ll check
the trails,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. “She couldn’t have
gone far.”
Melynda hesitated, her gaze fixed on the ridge where the
crow had vanished. “What if...” She trailed off, shaking her head. “No, never
mind.”
Faith had returned looking grim as she informed the girls
the man at the desk said the groundskeeper had retreated to his cabin for the
night. “ I even went and banged on his door and he answered, claiming he hadn’t
seen her, but if need be, he’d help search in the morning or get a search party
organized. I don’t think he had anything to do with Crystal’s disappearance.”
Shawna grabbed a flashlight from her pack and handed another
to Faith. “Split up. We’ll cover more ground.”
Melynda interjected, her voice firm. “No. We stay together.
Crystal warned us about the darkness, remember? Let’s stick to the main path
and call for her. And Faith, no whistling, please!”
The three women began their search, their flashlights
casting narrow beams that sliced through the enveloping darkness. The wind
whistled through the trees, carrying with it faint, eerie sounds—snatches of
whispers, a rustle of movement. They called Crystal’s name, their voices
echoing into the night, but no reply came.
As they reached a clearing, Faith stopped suddenly. “Do you
hear that?” she whispered.
The others froze, straining their ears. Faintly, from the
direction of the mountains, came a sound: a voice. Crystal’s voice.
“Help me!” it called, faint but unmistakable. “Over here!”
Shawna’s heart leapt, and she started toward the sound, but
Melynda grabbed her arm. “Wait! Crystal said they could use voices. What if
it’s not her? Remember what she told us about how Skinwalkers can mimic
familiar voices?”
Shawna hesitated, torn between logic and instinct. “But what
if it is her?” Her flashlight beam wavered; her grip unsteady. “What if
she’s hurt? We can’t just leave her out there!”
Faith nodded, but her voice quivered. “Melynda’s right.
Crystal wouldn’t have warned us for no reason. Let’s think this through.”
The voice called out again, more desperate this time: “Help
me! Please!”
Melynda tightened her grip on Shawna’s arm. “We need to be
smart. This may be a trick. She might still be in the campground. Let’s head
back and check the cabins again before chasing shadows.”
Reluctantly, Shawna agreed, and the three women retraced
their steps, their flashlights guiding them back to the firepit. The glow of
the flames still danced in the distance, a comforting beacon in the oppressive
darkness.
As they approached, they heard movement—soft, deliberate
footsteps. Faith swung her flashlight toward the sound, and the beam
illuminated Crystal, standing at the edge of the firelight. Her face was pale,
her expression unreadable.
“Crystal!” Shawna cried, rushing toward her. But Melynda
stepped in her path, holding her back.
“Wait,” Melynda said, her voice low. “Something’s not
right.”
Crystal tilted her head, her dark eyes glinting in the
firelight. “What’s wrong? It’s just me,” she said, her tone calm but strangely
hollow.
Faith shivered, her flashlight trembling in her hand. “Where
did you go? We checked the cabin, and you weren’t there.”
“I needed some air,” Crystal replied smoothly. “I told you I
wasn’t feeling well.”
Melynda narrowed her eyes, her instincts screaming that
something was off. “If it’s really you, tell us—what did you say about the
coyotes earlier?”
Crystal’s lips curled into a faint smile. “I said they might
want to join us.”
Melynda’s heart sank. “No! You said, “ They’re harmless.”
For a split second, Crystal’s expression faltered, her
features twisting into something darker. Then, without warning, she turned and
bolted toward the trees.
“Stop!” Shawna shouted, but Crystal—or whatever she was—was
already gone, disappearing into the night.
The three women stood frozen, the weight of what they’d just
witnessed sinking in.
“What do we do now?” Faith whispered, her voice barely
audible.
Melynda glanced at the firepit, then back at the direction
Crystal had fled. “We stick together, just like we said. Let’s get back to the
cabins and wait until daylight. If Crystal’s out there, we’ll find her in the
morning.”
Shawna hesitated but eventually nodded. “Okay. But we can’t
leave her out there alone for too long.”
As they made their way back to the cabins, the oppressive
darkness seemed to press closer, and the whispers of the wind grew louder,
almost mocking. Inside, they locked the doors and windows, huddling together in
one cabin for safety, but found it hard to sleep as they all questioned what
just happened at the campfire, each one having their own theory.
The night passed slowly, every creak and rustle outside sent
chills down their spines. At dawn, the first rays of sunlight broke over the
Sandia Mountains, bathing the campground in a golden glow.
The women stepped outside, the bright light dispelling the
shadows of the night. They began their search again, calling Crystal’s name as
they scoured the campground and surrounding trails.
Finally, near a rocky outcrop at the base of the mountains,
they found her. Crystal was sitting on a boulder, her face tilted toward the
rising sun. She looked tired but unharmed.
“Crystal!” Shawna cried, rushing to her.
Crystal turned to them, her expression soft and familiar.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion. “I needed to be alone.
I... I felt something pulling me, and I didn’t know how to explain it.”
Melynda studied her closely, searching for any sign of the eerie presence from the night before. But this was the Crystal she knew—their friend.
Lorraine Carey
https://authorlorrainecarey.blogspot.com/
Lorraine Carey is a
reading specialist and an Award-Winning Author. She was living in California
until fate whisked her off to Grand Cayman. She currently lives in Florida. Her
love for paranormal stories began at a young age, and is no stranger to the paranormal,
having encountered unexplainable events that are woven into her stories.
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