Out in nature
Posted by arkham101
Date Posted: 10/03/2005

This is a "short" version of a story I am writing about some things I heard and dreams I had while out camping. Obviously, this is an exaggeration on those feelings.

John, his wife Lesley, his sister Kim and her husband Chris all went for a canoe trip in Algonquin Park in Ontario. The trip was booked, the rout picked. The plan was to be out there for a week during the quite season (near the end of August).
The trip went off without a hitch, except for some timing issues because John and his wife where two hours late. The first few days passed as they enjoyed being out in the wilderness. Swimming in rapids, sitting under waterfalls and on the old logging rafts that had become stuck in the flows, camping on islands, and they hardly saw another sole.
They entered the lake that would be their turn around point and started their route around the lake to find the best camping site for the night. As they paddled through the lake, John kept hearing what sounded like wood chopping in the distance. He assumed that there was others on the lake and didn’t pay it any heed. As they came to the end of the lake they found all the sites where empty. The chopping had stopped, so John thought nothing of it.
The day goes on and they decided to camp in a site in the middle left of the lake. There was plenty of day light left so John and Chris decided to go for a paddle across the lake to check out a marsh on the far side, while the girls tanned and read their books. As they did so, John started to hear the wood chopping. He mentioned it in passing to Chris who looked at him funny and said “I haven’t heard anyone wood chopping”. John quickly dismissed it as they found a small river running through the middle of the marsh and enjoyed the rest of the day.
As they where returning to the camp site, John once again heard the far off sound of someone chopping wood. “There it is again, can’t you hear it?” he asked Chris. “Hear what? I don’t hear anything, man.” “The wood chopping. What are you deaf?” John responded. “Whatever guy, I don’t hear any wood chopping. Must be coming from someone else on the lake.” Frustrated, John concentrated on paddling, trying to ignore the sound. As they approached the docking point on their site, John looked into the water and something caught his eye. He looked into the deep water on his left and saw the gnarled face of a dead lumberjack. His gruff beard flowing with the water, exposing his teeth, staring back at John with his black, empty eye sockets. John blinked in shock and the face was gone.
John’s brain quickly rationalized it and he forgot about the face in the deep.
The four of them talked and hung out for the afternoon. It wasn’t until supper time that John heard the chopping again. He asked the girls if any boats had come by, but they said “No”. As the evening wore on, the chopping seemed to be getting closer, until it sounded like it was only a few hundred meters away. Still, the others said they heard nothing. John was freaking out, and the others where weirded out. They where all glad they would be leaving tomorrow.
Thankfully the chopping stopped about an hour before they went to bed. As they slept John heard a strange sound. It awoke him from his sleep but it was gone before his foggy mind could place what had caused the sound. He got up and went to the edge of the cliff overhanging their dock. In shocked paralyzation, John watched the gnarled corpse of a long dead lumberjack rise from the water, walking towards their boats. He could do nothing but watch in horror and freight as the dead thing raised a rusted axe in it rotting fingers and began to destroy their canoes. The noise was horrendous, but the others didn’t wake. Once there where sufficient holes for his liking, the dead lumber jack took hold of them and dragged the canoes into the deep. But just before he sank down he turned and stared directly at John. His cold black eye sockets seemed to want to swallow John whole. Then he was gone, boats and all.
John awoke screaming. His wife, Lesley, asked him what was wrong. He stepped out of the tent into the dark, his sister and her husband joining him. “We can’t stay here!” John screamed “I am going mad!” they all agreed and started to collect their gear in the dark when Chris started freaking out. “Where the heck are the boat?!” Johns blood ran cold and said “W-what”. “The boats John. Where the heck are they?!” Chris said walking towards him. John fell to his knees “I –I don’t know. I had a dream that the lumberjack wrecked them and-“Chris cut him off “There is no freaking lumberjack! There’s no wood chopping! Nothing! What did you do with the boats?”
“He didn’t do anything with them Chris” Lesley interjected “He was asleep with me. I would have known if he had left” every one knew Lesley was a light sleeper. “Then who would come out all this way just to steal our boats?” Chris said back, calming slightly. Kim piped up “It was probably some drunk teens thinking they where funny. Let’s get some sleep and we will look for them in the morning”. They all agreed and went back to their tents. It took over an hour before any of them went back to sleep, John being the last to finally nod off.
Again the noise. Half heard, but enough to wake John from his sleep. He rolled quickly over and nudged Lesley’s shoulder to wake her, but she would not. With shaking hands, John opened the tent and stepped out into the air. Again he walked to the overhanging rock, and again the corpse rose from the depth and, dragging the axe behind him, began to walk onto the beach. This time he continued up the slope to the camp site. John could not move, could not scream. He just stood there, watching the horror move towards them. It continued past and on to the tents. John’s body turned itself to follow the rotting, foul monstrosity but he could not move otherwise. The dead thing raised its axe and cut down through the side of John’s tent. He could hear his wife scream out it horror and pain. The axe rose and fell again and again, until the screaming turned to a horrible gurgling sound, then stopped. The dead thing them moved on to the other tent. Slicing down through the vinyl, cutting and killing those inside who seemed as unable to move as John himself. Finally, once all the screaming had stopped, the dead lumberjack turned and walked back down into the water, sinking into the deep.
John awoke screaming again, sitting straight up in bed, his eyes shut tight unwilling to look around him. Suddenly a gentle cool night breeze caressed his cheek, the flapping of the vinyl tent caught his ear, but it didn’t sound hollow. His brain immediately knew what as beside him, he didn’t and couldn’t look. He stepped out of the tent, never looking around, he walked straight out and stepped off the edge of the rock overhang, plunging into the deep, into the gnarled waiting arms of all those who had gone there before him, and they dragged him down, down into the deep.

In the morning, Lesley awoke to find John missing and the side of the tent had a long gash. The three camper spent the better part of the day looking for John, but they never found him. The boats, however, they found stuck on some rocks around a bend down the lake. They returned home and the police and park security continued the search to no avail.

All stories listed are submitted by guests. If you feel your story is listed without your permission, please contact us and we will remove it. EverythingScary.com does NOT endorse any information in the stories and will NOT be held responsible for the content of any story. Guests submit all stories. All stories express the views of the author.

Submit your story