Whisp

The story of an average high school experience goes something like this: there's a big party, parents say you can't go, you go anyway, you come home super drunk, and get grounded for a month. Celeste expected nothing less when she snuck out for the spring break bash at Big Laurel Falls. The tourist attraction allowed visitors to experience the natural beauty of North Carolina. That was until they discovered a pile of dead bodies, a mysterious tall man, and a girl floating down the stream.

Hello, listeners.

Welcome to the first episode of Meet Me in the Woods. I'm your host, Rosanne Belle, but we’ll be spending lots of time together, so; you can just call me Rosie. This here show’s about all things creepy crawly, but don't worry, everything you hear was created by yours truly.

Alright, here in Otto, there's not much to do. It's all woods and back roads, but let's pretend for a moment that it's a different, scarier world where the strange and unknown could occur and people lock their doors tight at night to shield themselves from the horrors of what lies outside. Now that I’ve transported you to this world, listen carefully, I present the story of Celeste and the tragedy of Big Laurel Falls. 

Celeste wasn’t the type of girl you’d expect to be at the center of trouble. She had a good head on her shoulders and an ego that soared to the moon. On the night of September 18th, 1986, Celeste heard a rumor through the party line that some people from her school were gathering by one of the larger waterfalls at Big Laurel Falls for a back-to-school rager. She never was the partying type, but she just turned 16 and thought she deserved time to goof off with her friends. 

“Absolutely not!” her mother said, “I know what goes down at those types of events.”

Celeste whined, “But Mom, Patricia will be there.” 

“I don’t care! One drink turns into ten, and no daughter of mine will succumb to alcoholism.”

 She was one of those moms against sleepovers because she had one bad experience and decided her children would suffer because of it. Celeste was furious, as all teenagers usually are when they don't get their way.

She decided nothing would keep her from that party and devised a plan to sneak out when her mother slept. She waited patiently under the covers, watching the slit underneath her door, waiting for the hall light to go out, signaling that her mother was going to bed. When the clock struck one, the light went out. This was her chance. She carefully put her shoes on, slid open her bedroom window, and shimmied down the lattice on the side of her house. 

She crept towards the falls, making sure to be as quiet as possible. She walked for fifteen minutes, ensuring no one followed her, as she would be in big trouble if caught. Finally feeling she had succeeded, she let out a sigh of relief. The instructions said to meet next to one of the big waterfalls surrounded by orange leaves and skinny green trees. It was harder to navigate in the dark as Celeste fumbled her way through the rocks, trying her best not to get her shoes wet. 

With only the darkness surrounding her, she felt her heartbeat pick up and sweat drip down her neck. She wondered if coming here was a good idea now that she was alone in the woods with no noise other than the rushing water and the hooting of nearby owls. But then she hears the crack of a twig snapping just a few feet to her left. She raised her head and looked around for any sign of another person, but there was nothing. She calls out, “Patricia?” 

She darted her eyes, searching the trees for any sign of life, but she was met with the cool wisp of the wind rushing past her ears. Fear prickled her skin, and the regret from her decision to sneak out rose to her chest. She looked down at her watch. It was past two now, and she was sure this party was just a rumor and no one would show up. 

She turned around, disappointed but ready to go home and put this failure behind her. She walked for about five minutes towards her house, checking every bush and watching for movement. Then, she heard it again: the crack of twigs being stepped on. She whipped her head to the left, and that's when she saw it. A campfire. She felt hopeful, thinking she must have finally found her classmates, but a foul stench entered her nostrils when she approached. It smelled like rats full of garbage exploded, leaving their rotting entrails on the bushes. The smell was nothing compared to the scene in front of her. At least twelve of her classmates lay dead in the grass. She screamed, her hands covering her mouth trying to muffle the noise. 

The dragging sound snapped her out of shock—like something heavy being lugged on the dirt towards her. She barely had enough time to crouch behind a tree before the man came into view. He was tall, too tall. His lanky arms matched the wiry twists of the branches that surrounded him. Blood ran down his face, getting caught in his thick eyebrows and pooling above his lips. The light from the fire cast a shadow over him, making his scars pop like fireworks. He wore an eyepatch. He looked like a maniac. Celeste felt this too as she tried to arrange herself in a way that wouldn’t reveal her hiding spot. 

She turned her body away but kept her eyes locked on the man, causing her not to see the rock behind her. She kicked it hard and let out a yelp. She clasped her palm over her mouth, but it was too late; the man was now staring back at her. 

Well, folks, that's all the time I have for today. Will Celeste make it out of the woods? Only time will tell. Until next time—don’t forget to listen for your name whispering in the trees. I’ll be waiting. Goodnight.