They decided to go camping on the outskirts of town. It was the rainy season, so they brought their caravan, towing it behind their car for the long journey ahead. Froyer took the wheel while Merla rested in the back. They were a college couple, and this trip was special....a celebration of their three-year anniversary. Nature was their second home, and they had planned this for a long while.
The drive was grueling because the forest was far from their town, but eventually, they reached their destination: their favorite secluded spot deep within the woods.
As evening fell, they quickly prepared the site, collecting wood and starting a campfire. Sitting by the crackling flames, they discussed their academics and the future they wanted to build together after college. They talked about having four children, imagining Froyer taking them fishing and camping just like this, and Merla being a great mother, making them breakfast in the fresh morning air. They talked until the night grew very old.
Froyer eventually extinguished the fire, turning toward the caravan to join his girlfriend. But just as he reached the door, he froze. He heard a strange sound...the faint echo of human laughter coming from the darkness on the other side of the camp. He wondered if other people were nearby; perhaps the site wasn't as private as they thought. He felt an urge to investigate, but a gut instinct told him to stay put. He decided he would look for the other camp in the morning instead.
That night, sleep didn't come easy. He heard a heavy sound...something, or someone, was walking in slow circles around their caravan.
The next morning, Froyer told Merla about the nearby voices and his plan to introduce themselves. Merla frowned, reminding him that they were there for their anniversary, not to make friends with strangers.
"What if they are killers or have bad motives?" she asked, her voice tight with worry.
Froyer laughed it off, telling her she was overreacting. She suggested one last time that he drop it, her bad feeling growing stronger. He gave her a peck on the cheek and told her not to worry; he wouldn't be gone long. But Merla wasn't just scared for him...she was terrified of being left alone in that caravan without his protection.
Armed with his cellphone and a walkie-talkie, Froyer set out. He pushed past massive, dense trees, and after a long hike, he finally found the source of the laughter.
It was another campsite, but something was wrong. He saw a large tent surrounded by empty beer bottles. What stopped him in his tracks, however, was the condition of the tent. A massive hole had been torn through the fabric as if by a violent struggle. Trails of blood stained the grass. He tried to tell himself a bear had done it, but no bear had claws that could rip a hole that large. He peeked inside: only a single sleeping bag and a few supplies remained. Whoever had been here was alone.
Panic set in. Who would come here alone? And what happened to them?
Thinking of Merla alone at their camp, Froyer turned to sprint back. But as he ran, the forest seemed to shift. He couldn't remember which direction he had come from. He tried calling Merla, but there was no signal. He switched to the walkie-talkie, clicking the button desperately, but only static answered him.
He walked for the entire day, searching for the path, but he was hopelessly lost. All the while, he kept trying to reach Merla. She never picked up.
By the time night fell again, luck seemed to find him...he stumbled upon another campsite with a small tent. It was empty. Exhausted and terrified, he crawled inside, his mind racing with thoughts of what Merla was doing back at the caravan.
Later that night, the sound returned. Something huge began circling his tent. Suddenly, his phone rang in the dark. A loud, piercing scream erupted from the speaker. It sounded like Merla, but something about the pitch was... off. The heavy footsteps outside stopped as if the creature was listening.
Then, a voice spoke from just outside the thin fabric of the tent.
"Can you come outside so we can talk, Honey?"
It was Merla's voice, a perfect copy. But Froyer knew his girlfriend was miles away in the caravan. This was something else entirely. He frantically dialed 911, but the screen showed only 'No Service.'
Three days later, a hiker passing through the area found a caravan. The door swung open on its hinges, the windows were shattered, and thick blood coated the doorstep. He pulled out his phone to call for help, but before he could dial, his eyes began to change. The color bled away until they were pitch black.
Dropping his phone into the dirt, the hiker turned and walked deep into the forest as if following a silent command. He was never seen again.
The campsite was eventually closed to the public because, to this day, they have never found the people who disappeared there