Recently I got a divorce and ever since my relationship break down, I’ve been spending my time out in nature, camping and hiking and just generally forgetting the every day rat race.
I just got myself a brand new tent and figured I’d test it out by heading up to a remote spot id come across on my last adventures.
I packed according - I wasn’t stupid and knew how important it was to be prepared. I even took my satellite phone, and two first aid kits, plus enough bottled water to last me 6 months at least! (Okay, so maybe I was an over packer, but like I said - better to be prepared.)
I told some friends where I would be,.and when I was expected to be back home.
I organised with my neighbour to feed my cat.
I was prepared.
The trip itself to my camp spot was quite boring. I’d done the route many times before and found myself drifting off into fantasy land instead of actually taking in the scenery around me.
I made a mental note to be more conscious, and soon enough I was at my spot and setting up camp for the afternoon.
I spent the rest of the daylight testing out my new fishing rod, as well as napping in the afternoon sun after I took a quick dip in the lake.
When nighttime rolled around, I was settled into my new tent, torch at the ready and a mug of hot milky tea ready to be sipped at, while I was marvelling at how well I’d done with getting it together by myself. Everything was perfect.
I awoke some time during the night to scratching. At first, the sound was in my dream and in it, my old dog Baxter was scratching at the back door, asking to be let in.
I savoured the dream for a while, Baxter had been gone for years now and seeing him in a dream was like he was still around.
But the scratching grew louder and more consistent until I was forced awake.
I listened to it for a while and it started to Peter off. I put it down to wild animals, and drifted back off to sleep.
I barely heard the voice at first, too wrapped up in trying to wake up and it just didn’t make sense, I knew I was alone, I had set up alone and gone to bed alone, I’d heard no other cars pull up, seen no headlights.. it didn’t make sense so it was like my mind just didn’t register it to be real.
Until I heard the voice again. Louder. More clear.
It sounded male, deep.and raspy. It cackled, as it told me how beautiful I was, how pretty I had looked in the moonlight by my campfire. It asked if I was scared that I wasn’t alone.
My heart was racing by that stage, I fumbled with the torch and debated flicking it on, trying to calm my scrambled thoughts into a coherent one. It didn’t work.
I clicked the torch on, light illuminating the tent and all of a sudden heard the cackle again, my eyes guided to the source by scanning the room.
In my open suitcase was a walkie talkie, that my sister had given me before I left. Incase I made any friends, she joked.
I stared at in wonder and horror, as the voice came again from it, stating how much they enjoyed seeing my outline in the shadows cast by my light. They said I looked tasty, just delicious enough to eat.
My blood ran cold as I made myself as still as possible, their words.. or more so the way they said the words.. bouncing around my head.
I clicked off the light, surrounding myself with darkness.
The walkie talkie sounded again, the raspy voice’s sickening attempt at singing a twisted version of a nursery rhyme that involved slaying and flaying, blood and gore.
I willed myself to be strong and not cry, but my tears came hot and heavy. I wondered why I had ever been game enough to go camping alone, and in the middle of no fucking where, no less?!
I tried to.tell myself it was a joke. A sick, twisted practical joke. But I knew i wasn’t fooling myself. I was stuck out in the middle of no where with some psychopath in close distance.
I needed to call the police, to get help. But my phone was on the charge on my portable battery.. which was still in my car.
I would have to leave my tent to get to it.
While I was debating this horrible idea, and fighting the truth that there was no other choice, the walkie talkie cackled to life once more and the voice, in an misguided attempt at sounding loving and soft, whispered all the ways it couldn’t wait to do to me, starting with making my pretty face their own.
I couldn’t take it anymore, the voice was still describing the ways it was going to torture me as I lunged at the end of my tent and pulled my zipper down. I didn’t take my eyes off my car as I sprinted towards it, ignoring the images in my pheriferals of my destroyed campsite as I ran.
My car was unlocked and I got in, scrambling to lock the doors as I slammed my door closed behind me.
The night was still dark, but the stars and moonlight illuminated the campground enough to see that amongst my tent lay Choas, my camp chair was in the campfire, smouldering away, my fishing rods bent and snapped.
In the distance I saw a tree rustle, and I didn’t even bother to get my phone off the charger, I just sped the hell out of there.
When I got back into civilization, I pulled up under some street lights in a busy supermarket car park. It was almost 6 am by that stage, and there was plenty of people starting their day.
I called the police and told them what had happened and they told me they’d send a car out to check the area.
They told me that if I felt safe, I could go home and someone would be in touch for my statement.
Otherwise, I could come in and wait at the station, if I preferred.
I opted for home, needing to have a hot shower and wash away the night I’d had.
I called my sister on the way home, knowing she’d be up getting ready for work and described the night to her in great detail.
She was shocked and couldn’t believe it, telling me to.come over to hers so I wasn’t alone.
I thanked her for the offer but I was desperate for some sleep, and her three young kids made that almost impossible. She couldn’t disagree with me on that one, so she just laughed and told me to be safe.
The police didn’t call me back until that night. By then I’d showered and scrubbed myself clean, washing away the dirt and any reminder of the horrible experience. I kept hearing the raspy voice in my head and felt so anxious but I shook it off, I was home and I was safe.
I’d made myself some toast with Vegemite and avocado, a mug of tea and settled in to watch a re run of happy days.
The phone ringing startled me more than I’d like to admit, but my heartrate slowed to a normal rate when an officer told me that a detective was waiting for me on the other line.
I agreed to be transfered, and was met with a familiar voice on the other end
“Can’t hide, sweetheart” the raspy voice was gleeful, I could hear the devilish grin in the tone.
I hung up and stared at the phone number, typing it into Google for confirmation it had come from my local station. It had.
I called back, telling myself I was going crazy. I was expecting to be greeted by the same receptionist who had just transferred me, but instead the raspy voice welcomed me to the station.
I called my sister, tears streaming down my face. I burst into an upset and teary tirade as soon as she answered, and I heard her soothing ooh and ahh that she always did.
She told me she would be over to my house asap, to stay there and stay off my phone. She would come and look after me.
It’s been three hours. She hasn’t turned up. I’ve tried to call her, but it goes straight to voicemail.
I’ve got three missed calls from my local police station but I’m too scared to answer them.
I thought maybe a nap might help, might makee feel better and see clearly. But when I went to my bedroom to lay down, there was a single walkie talkie just sitting on my bed.
Im really scared something’s gone wrong.. like.. maybe..well, like I didn’t come home alone from camping?
I hope my sister comes soon. The walkie talkie is crackling. Someone is on the other end,waiting to speak.