Rive by Zebulon Patchin – Mostly Disturbing Fables

“Ok, tell me what happened start to finish, we are having a hard time understanding exactly what went on.” The dark-haired officer said in his best good-cop voice. Exhausted and not sure if he would believe me anyway, fuck it I’ll just give it to him straight. He can sort out the details and come to his own conclusions. “Well, I volunteer my time once a year at a summer camp for children who’ve lost their way. We take them out into the woods for a little character building, sometimes they are just in bad family situations, other times they bring the bad with them. But really, we have never had anything like this happen, occasional arguments and fights but never… murder.” I stumbled as my mouth chewed on the word, much like he did that night. “Yeah, I get it bunch of rowdy no-good kids all packed into tents in the middle of nowhere. What could go wrong? Right?!?” The officer’s true nature poked through his mask with that comment. “I started my day like I had so many times before. I hopped in my Jeep loaded with everything we would need for the week and drove out to the lake, up the crappy old dirt road that led to our camp. I could see the kids standing out near our main fire pit chatting with each other, nothing really seemed out of place. I was actually pretty excited, it’s not just an escape for the kids. Ya know?” The officer nodded lazily perhaps he was bored already or simply didn’t care about the details. “I jumped out and introduced myself giving my usual speech. Welcome to Camp Spade and Hammer, I see a few new faces as well as some old, it’s gonna be a great week, be sure to follow the rules, blah blah blah. All the usual crap I’m required to say.” I don’t think the officer really needed these details, but he asked for everything and perhaps out of spite I was going to tell him everything.
“I went around shaking their hands, there was one kid that stood out like a sore thumb. He was a lanky blonde kid, really quiet and standoffish. I am always nervous about the shy ones, when they explode it’s like an atom bomb. He shook my hand and told me his name, a name I will never forget. ‘Chuck’, he said in a soft tone. This one had jelly for a spine.” Chuck’s face covered in blood dimly lit by the dying embers of the camp fire flashed into my mind, I still shook from the chill that night. “Yup, that’s the kid in question.” The officer shared his own tremor. He was the first officer on the scene once I got the other kids loaded into my Jeep and hauled ass out of there. It seemed like he blamed me for what happened, but how could I have ever known. This wasn’t the kind of thing that happened at camp, not even with so-called “bad kids”.
“Right about that time that I heard a vehicle pull in behind me, brakes squealing to a stop some five yards back. It was the red pickup truck that I had seen hundred of times before and out stepped the other counselor Fred Marsh in his usual faded blue overalls and dark blue ball cap. I noticed Fred didn’t look so good, he was pale and not his chipper self. He even forgot how to dress, the right clasp on his overalls was undone leaving a strap dangling behind him. I asked if he was ok, he nodded a slow nod and began introducing himself to the kids.” Maybe I should tell the officer about the weird feeling I had, chances are it wouldn’t get me out of this chair anyway. “ After introductions and such, we drew straws to decide chore assignments. I drew lucky and got camp fire duty, Chuck drew kitchen duty with Fred.” The irony. “ Fred and I helped the new kids setup their tents while the experienced hands got their camps popped up. It was really nice seeing all these wasted souls doing something worthwhile. It’s usually about this time that you start to see a change in their attitudes, but not Chuck he was still tucked away firmly in his shell. It’s how some of these kids survive, hiding away from the world that has been so cruel, really that’s why we started the camp in the first place. Fred was a social worker and I’m a therapist who specializes in underprivileged youths, this camp was our brainchild. We just wanted to give the kids a shot at normal, even if it was just for a weekend.” “Alright, Saint Mary I don’t need your life story just the details of the crime. Helping some shitty kids doesn’t clear your name, you will have plenty of time for defense in court.” He really must think I was behind this tragedy. “Right, but motivation is pretty important.” My reply danced past his ears without recognition.
“Now that chores were done we decided to go down to the lake. Everyone was in the water except for Fred and Chuck. Fred was lounging in one of those little pop-up backpacker chairs, the sun seemed to be doing him some good. He was less pale but still sort of shaky and staring out into the lake without an expression on his face. Chuck was sitting a few yards away nervously looking around, come to think of it he was glancing at Fred every few minutes sort of like he was waiting for Fred to do something. The kid seemed pretty worried, but I figured he must’ve been in an abusive home or the likes. Maybe Fred reminded him of his shitty Dad.” The Officer gave a huff of agreement. “Everybody else was getting along great, laughing and splashing each other. After about two hours we all ended up on the beach sun-drying and sharing stories. It must’ve been five or so when we headed up to camp, the boys were voraciously hungry after swimming. That’s when the first really strange thing happened, Chuck came up to me and asked what the plan for dinner was. I told him steaks, when the words hit his ears he turned as white as a sheet and stammered asking if he could switch chores with someone. I told him I would have to ask Fred, at this he started apologizing and asked me not to mention it to Fred. I figured this was a trauma response from his abusive home life and assured him it would stay between him and myself.” The kid seemed so shaken up, I wish I would’ve noticed the signs. “I split some kindling on one of the large stones that lined our fire pit and showed a kid named Ralph how to start a fire with flint and steel. The kid was thrilled to see the process, he kinda seemed too thrilled but we have had many a pyromaniac at camp as I am sure you have dealt with in your line of work.” The Officer agreed. “Little bastards once tried to burn down our station.”
“The fire was now roaring, all but Fred and Chuck were huddled in chatting about various teenage boy things. I looked over to see how long until dinner was done and saw Chuck looking directly at Fred. Chuck had a knife in his hand which was covered in smears of starch from the potatoes he had cut. I really didn’t like the look in that kids eyes, so I got up and asked him to have a side bar with me away from the kitchen. I asked him if everything was ok, he didn’t answer at first, he just clutched the knife and stared back at the kitchen as if he knew at any moment something terrible would come out from the canvas wall. Finally Chuck told me that a few minutes ago Fred asked if he likes steaks. He said yes to Fred and then Fred said ‘Steaks are fine but I would rather eat something fresher!’ while he stared at Chuck.” “Ah, you’re going with the pedophile story huh?” The Officer had decided for me that I was building a defense. I rolled my eyes and continued “It isn’t uncommon for kids to project these sorta things onto other adults, pretty often they learn to make up stories like this to gain a sense of control. That being said, I decided it was best to intervene at this point. I took the knife and put it down in the kitchen and told Fred the kid wasn’t feeling great, he needed a break. It was kinda odd though, Fred seemed visibly angry at the news. The veins were popping out of his neck and he grumbled a quick ‘yeah fine’ in response.” I really should’ve known, it was so easy to write this off.
“Chuck seemed to be calming down a bit until Fred rang the iron triangle that signaled dinner. The kids lined up to be served, all except for Chuck, he was still sitting by the fire. I grabbed my plate and a plate for Chuck. He thanked me in his nervous way and started munching a steaming baked potato. Fred was slowly sliding the food around his plate but didn’t really seem interested in eating, he did however seem interested in Chuck. He kept sneaking glances up at Chuck, I wondered at the time if he was trying to figure out what was going on with the kid. But in retrospect it must’ve been something evil.”
“So your story so far is the kid was being stalked by the camp councilor and you a trained therapist who works with abused children didn’t see the writing on the wall. Let me guess you are going to blame Fred for everything that happened!” The anger was now swelling in the officer. He is trying to intimidate me into a confession, problem with that is I didn’t do anything. No one will ever believe what happened last night, heck I don’t even believe what happened. “You haven’t heard the whole story yet, what happened is truly beyond a simple case of Uncle Diddles in the forest!” The Officer had won this fight, I felt the heat rise out of me from the small flames he kindled, now a raging wildfire. “Good get angry, slip up and show me the real rage that you are hiding. The rage that you unleashed that night, you can’t hide behind your altruism forever.” He was right, I was angry, pissed even. What happened that night was nothing short of a nightmare, the blood and screaming will never leave my memories.
“As part of therapeutic nature of the camp we like to give the kids a chance to share some of their trauma in a non-judgmental environment. Think of it like Alcoholics Anonymous, we go around one by one sharing a story of our troubled past. One of the councilors always starts to help encourage the kids, it’s a really great trust building part of the experience. That night I went first, I shared the physical abuse my mother and I received from my drunk dad. I talked about the lasting pain and feelings of inadequacy it left me with well into adulthood.” “So you got your rage from your dad!” The Officer’s statement dug deep into my soul. He didn’t understand the fear of every night sitting in silence waiting for the bomb to drop. It could be over nothing, or over something small, but everyone in the house knew it was coming.
“Next was a kid named John who had been coming to camp for the last four years. He shared a familiar story of his dad kidnapping him and locking him in a trunk for a day without food or water. You see these kids really needed us, without this sanctuary they were alone in the world. The kids shared a few more stories about molestation and violence in the home. Everyone was loosening up and really honing in on their past trauma, until we got to Chuck.” The Officer stared at me as I took a deep inhale. “This kid’s story was the worst I had ever heard, he said ‘My parents are both gone now, my Mom and Dad were both great parents. Never mean and always loving, until one day I woke to my mom’s screaming and loud smashing sounds. I think that monsters really do exist in our world, not people making bad choices, real monsters. I ran down the stairs to see what was happening, the floor was covered in blood and there was my Dad standing over my mother.’ Chuck had paused at this point tearing up a bit before continuing.’ My Dad was holding her arm and one by one chewing off and swallowing her fingers whole. He turned his head toward me a pointer finger pointing out from his closed bloody lips. I locked eyes with him and I was certain that wasn’t my Dad, it was some kind of skinwalker or evil spirit pretending to be him. I knew better than to run so I stood there and it stood there mouth dripping with blood. Those evil eyes stared back at me for what felt like hours, finally it slurped down her finger, waved a slow methodical wave, and ran faster than any man could straight out of the house. I called the police, by the time they arrived my Mom was gone.’ The poor kid was shaking at this point. He glanced over at Fred and I followed his eyes. Fred was leaning forward in his seat like this was the greatest story that had ever been told. It was unsettling to say the least.” The Officer raised an eyebrow ushering me to continue. “ Chuck went on to tell us that he firmly believed it was a Wendigo or a skin walker that had taken over his Dad. Poor kid just couldn’t accept the truth of his mother’s fate. A few of the other kids shared their stories, but I could tell no one was listening, we all were too spooked after Chuck’s story. I wasn’t sure I would be able to sleep after such a horrific tale”
“I took the lead on that case, I have to agree with the kid. The brutality of the crime was something only a demon could dream up. Until yesterday I thought it was the worst case of my career. When we got there that boy was hiding in a closet waiting for us, he could barely speak.” The Officer’s face softened and he shed a few tears. Clearly he did have a soul, it had just been hardened by years behind a badge.
“We decided that it was time for a sing along to help lighten the mood. I pulled out my old banged-up camp guitar. We always do “Stand By Me” the first night to help spread the message of solidarity and love to the kids. It really helps them feel like we are all family. The song really helped lighten the mood, kids were swaying and singing and I really thought that was the end of the weirdness.” The sensation of his dried blood on my face was too much to bear, my fingernails scraped at the crusty flakes. “We all headed to bed saying our good nights followed by an orchestra of tent zippers. I lay there for a while ruminating on the horror that the kids shared. It was a lot, even after all the years of doing this.” The Officer gave a nod of understanding. “At some point I fell asleep, it was a pretty restful sleep until I woke up suddenly. At first, my groggy mind didn’t understand what exactly I was hearing, then it hit me that is the sound of an animal in mortal pain, a human animal acting purely on instinct and adrenaline. I ripped my tent zipper down as fast as a could and forced my way through the gap in the fabric. About thirty feet away right next to the orange glow of the mostly dead fire I could see two human shadows. One was standing over the flailing silhouette of the other. The upright shadow was producing the most evil, guttural growl like a semi-truck engine that had a cold. I rushed over in the darkness guided by a paternal force. As I got within a few feet, the light from the fire was enough to make out the features of the creature.” My eyes shut as if to push the images out of my mind.
“It was Fred but not Fred, its eyes bulged with red hot rage. Its face was dripping with a dark viscous liquid, I knew it was blood. The droplets pattered onto its victim below. Chuck’s loose body had gashes and chunks of missing flesh. He twitched as his body gave up the fight, knowingly succumbing to the torture. Fred looked at me, growled ‘Are you hungry camper?’ and then dove on to the poor boy. Its teeth gnashed flesh off of bone, the sound was disgusting like a hungry child munching every last bit of pink of a watermelon rind. I rushed to the camp fire ring and without a thought grabbed a large stone. A caveman-like spirit took control of me as I started slamming the rock into the monsters skull, squishy thuds rang out. Blow after blow I forced the stone down onto its skull but the monster wouldn’t give up. So I pushed it off the boy with my foot, and mounted it like a demonic horse. The face that was once Fred was now a strange mixture of man and beast, bloody mats of fur hung in patches on its lizard scale face. I brought the stone down hard impacting just above its nose, its face yielded to the stone and caved inwards. I raised the stone again and delivered a final blow to the concave dish of a face as it gurgled bubbles of a blood.” The Officer wore a look of shock on his face, hopefully he was starting to believe my innocence. “ I got up and rushed to Chuck’s side, he wasn’t breathing or moving. I cleared the blood away from his mouth and started to administer CPR, on the third or fourth chest compression I heard a commotion to the left of me. I looked up just in time to see that monster in Fred’s skin dash into the woods, it was laughing a deep grisly laugh. From all around us I could hear it, as if it was in twelve places at once. Sometimes in front of me, sometimes to the sides, and sometimes from behind.” “So what? Now, you’re saying Fred was possessed by a demon?” The Officer still didn’t believe me. “I think you are laying out a pretty great story but let’s look at the facts. I have a dead kid and a presumed dead missing adult and no witnesses but you. Not a damn one of those kids saw or heard anything. I think you killed them.”
“Yes everyone was asleep, but you have to believe me I was just defending the campers from this…thing. I frantically woke up everyone, told them to forget the tents, and get into my Jeep. All while the laughing continued around us.” “You know what’s weird? Not a single kid that we interviewed heard any laughing. All they saw was you covered in blood rushing them into your jeep. I gotta say you scared the shit out of these kids. I am honestly amazed that you have the balls to come in here with this BS story about skin wearers or whatever. You do realize we have your ass hook, line, and sinker, right?” The Officer’s arrogance filled the room, of course he wouldn’t believe me, neither would anyone else. I was fucked and I knew it, but at least I told the truth. I wonder if a lie would be enough, maybe a story about a molester camp councilor that I stopped from harming a child. But I know what happened, I know that the monster is still out there waiting for another meal.