Showing posts with label mummy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mummy. Show all posts

Thursday, October 20, 2022

Story 462: Campfire Tale of Horror

(Around the evening campfire, Counselor and five Children sit on logs roasting marshmallows)

Child 1: I had so much fun today, it’s gonna be hard falling asleep tonight!

Counselor: Well, it’s a good thing tomorrow’s Sunday then, so you all have a day to recover at home before back to school on Monday.

Child 2: School, ugh!

Children 1-5: Uggghhhh!!!

Counselor: Ingrates.  (Tests a marshmallow with fingertips, then passes around chocolate and crackers for everyone to make s’mores) So!  Since it’s almost Halloween and we’re in the proper setting, would you like to hear a… serious and heartfelt story?

Children 1-5: (All shake their heads and laugh) Nooo!!!

Child 3: We want to hear a scary story!

Counselor: Ah, of course.  (Hastily finishes off the s’more) OK then, what should it be about?  Witches?  Werewolves?  Vampires?  Mummies?  Zombies?  (The Children shake their heads on each one) I’m running out of the classics here, kids.

Child 4: Those are all overdone – we want something really scary!

Child 5: Yeah, something that’ll give us nightmares!

Counselor: You may regret that….

Children 1-5: (Cheering over each other) Tell us a scary story!  Make us scream!  Haunt our dreams!

Counselor: Fine, fine!  If you insist.  (Wipes messy hands and leans forward; Children do likewise) This is a tale to freeze the blood, chill the heart, and send shivers down the spine – good thing we’re all sitting around a nice hot fire, right?

Child 1: Not to be rude, but this sounds like it’s going to be one of those tales that really aren’t that scary anymore.

Counselor: (Gets a devilish look) Oh, just you wait.  I call this –

 THE TALE OF THE UNSTOPPABLE LIFE CHANGES

             Children 1-5: …What?!

            Counselor: Don’t interrupt.

 Narrator: Once upon a time, there was a child, right around your age, who loved life, and was loved by life….

(In black-and-white overtones, Child (who looks like a younger version of Counselor) is skipping down a residential sidewalk in glee)

Child: (Smiling as wide as humanly possible) La, la, la, la, la….

Narrator: Not a care in the world, and knew that all was well and would always be well.  Until, one day –

(The robed figure of Adulthood jumps out from the nearby hedges)

Adulthood: Ta-da!

Child: (Stops skipping, but smile never falters) Why, hello!  And who might you be?

Adulthood: Your future, kid.

Child: Why, whatever could you mean?  I feel so grand about all things all the time, and you look terrible!

Adulthood: Life’ll do that to ya – mind if I sit down?  (Points to a nearby bench)  That surprise entrance did my knees and lungs no favors.

Child: But of course!  Do you also need to lean upon my youthful shoulder?

Adulthood: Not yet, but don’t wander off, either.  (Staggers over to the bench and collapses on it; Child follows and stands nearby)

Child: Do you need a glass of water and a pillow, oh Elder One?

Adulthood: (Wipes sweat from forehead) No!  Now listen up: you’ve had a good run; you were extremely lucky in having a loving family and living in comfortable, healthy surroundings; but all that’s done and it’s time for you to pupate into the horrors of puberty to reach your final destination of end-stage adult.

Child: (Still smiling; blinks once) I don’t follow.

Adulthood: Now, I’m not saying that I’m what you’re going to turn into, but judging by your parents, peers, and current trajectory, it’s pretty likely.  Scratch that: almost guaranteed.

Child: I know this sounds cold and disrespectful, but you appear to be an absolute failure.

Adulthood: In one.

Child: Then how could I possibly resemble you in any way once I have emerged from my glorious life cocoon?  I’m getting such good grades in school, and have such great friends, and I’m doing so well in basketball, and I just made finals in our geography tournament this year –

Adulthood: Kid.

Child: Yes?

Adulthood: I’m torn on whether to laugh or cry right now – either of which, I assure you, would be done most hysterically.

Child: Whyever is that?

Adulthood: At the end of the day, all your grades and activities and school-age achievements will mean bupkis: your success or failure in life will depend primarily on who you know, being in the right place at the right time, and putting in exorbitantly much more work than the person next to you.

Child: (Turns to the empty space next to both of them, then back to Adulthood; smile starts to falter) Huh?

Adulthood: And even if you’re lucky enough to be what this society deems “a success,” you’ll never be able to enjoy it: if the stress doesn’t destroy you, your neglect of your family if they still speak to you, any friends you might have left, life partner if you snag one, and/or any actual kids of your own, and their resentment of you in turn, will make you wonder why on Earth anybody does anything.

Child: (Smile fades further) What?

Adulthood: Oh, speaking of kids: your body’s going to start all those lovely life changes soon so you’ll be able to pop out another version of yourself, at least in theory; even if you don’t wind up going through with it, doesn’t matter, hormones and body transformation’re on their way, so kiss your last moments of unblemished happiness good-bye, `cause you are never getting them back.

Child: (Starting to whimper) Umm….

Adulthood: But, as much as you’re going to dislike your new form with its useless excess hair and pimples and glands that seem to do more harm than good, you’d better take special care of it with healthy food, regular exercise, a full night’s sleep, and regular doctor check-ups, or else your eventual “golden” years will be absolute torture, with no reprieve except the final one, and who would actually want to wish for that?!

Child: (Begins to cry) Why are you saying all these mean things?

Adulthood: They’re not mean, they’re just true.  At least now you’re prepared, right?  (Stands as Child cries harder) Oh, almost forgot: everything that is so much fun for you right now, all your joys and pleasures and good times, will slowly, inexorably, one-by-one, become… BORING.

Child: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Children 1-5: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Camp Director: (Jogs over to the group as Children 1-5 stop screaming) What is going on here?!  Is anyone hurt?!

Counselor: Oh no, just telling them a spooky story, no big deal, right, kids?

Camp Director: (Sees Children 1-5 nodding with wide eyes and shivering) Must’ve been a doozy.  All right, everyone come back to your tents, it’s bedtime! 

(They shakily gathering their belongings; Counselor wiggles both arms in a mock scare at them, making them laugh in relief as they walk back to their tents with Camp Director.  Counselor chuckles a bit before turning back to extinguish the fire and clean up the site.  Suddenly, a twig snaps; Counselor freezes, sensing there are others nearby, waiting.  Feeling a chill, Counselor slowly turns around to face the surrounding woods.  Standing at the tree line, not 10 feet away, are a Witch, a Werewolf, a Vampire, a Mummy, and a Zombie)

Counselor: (Gulps) Ummm….

Vampire: (Steps forward cautiously) On behalf of my fellows, we wanted to know: that was only a story to scare the children, yes?

Counselor: …Ye-es, only a story, all in the spirit of the season.

(The others visibly relax and laugh in relief)

Mummy: Oh good, we were worried for a moment there that it was true!

Zombie: Or at the very least, a petrifying allegory!

Witch: That would have been a real horror, let me tell you!

(They all cackle uproariously; Counselor forces out a few laughs, and they all wave farewell as the group turns back to the woods.  Counselor shakily turns back to finish cleaning up and is met by Werewolf, who instantly appears opposite from where the rest of the group had been)

Werewolf: (Speaking in a growl) I must say, even though that was all made-up, you humans sure are a scary bunch!

Counselor: (Laughs nervously very loudly, then suddenly sobers and looks inwardly) That we are.