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The Chapel in the Woods

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CAMPGROUND

The campground, on a better day.

At times I wonder, why do my parents have to be such good people?

I guess I got lucky to be born with such nice people who like helping others out… but even my dad realizes that half the time he is being manipulated to do so.

Even so, when one of my dad’s friends wanted help with his camper, my dad instantly replied the positive… I wish he hadn’t, now that I look back on it.

Of course, my three year old brother wanted to go too, but since my dad couldn’t watch him this whole time, I got dragged along.

I would’ve been just fine staying home, reading creepypasta, and talking to my boyfriend but no, I had to go to babysit. It didn’t help my MP3 player kept randomly turning off.

Then I saw the campground. Chapel in the Woods.

When we drove in, it was possibly the creepiest place I had ever been in. For one, it was way too quiet, other than wind, there was no noise. Two, it was autumn but instead of nice pretty orange and red leaves, all the trees were bare, and just the branches were left, like a skeleton without any skin. And to top it all off, clouds covered the sky. Like, not pretty white fluffy clouds, but gray looming clouds of hell.

But my dad had made a promise, and he intended to keep it. So we pulled up to the camper and he told me and my little brother to go play, have some fun.

Hell, if I had known what would happen, I would’ve just said fuck it and stayed in the car the whole time, no matter how much my little brother complained. But no. Instead we made our way to the playground and while I tried to get my MP3 to work, my little brother, whose name is Tim, climbed around the playground. Having no luck with my musical device, I stuffed it in my pocket and just watched him play.

That’s when I saw the first two people since I had entered the campground. Both were girls, the older was around my age, sixteen or seventeen, while the younger was four or five. If I had been in a less sour mood I would’ve realized something was wrong with the way they dressed - they wore white sundresses, no shoes, and it was only forty degrees out. But no, my own anger and possible stupidity blinded me.

The elder whispered to her little sister and she went to climb on the jungle gym. Sitting next to me, the older sister said, “Hello. I’m Brianna, I live here with my sister Teresa. Tell me, what is your name?”

Holding out a hand, I replied, “Kate. Aren’t you cold?”

After shaking it, Brianna shrugged. “I’m used to it,” she said. I noticed that she did have goose bumps all up and down her pale skin.

I just said, “Why don’t you go back to your camp site and get a coat?” Brianna chuckled.

“Like I said, I’m used to it. Would you like to help braid my hair?” she asked.

Raising an eyebrow, I said, “Sure… got a hair tie?” Brianna nodded and pulled it off her wrist. Strange that I hadn’t noticed it before. It was a dark green, and when I touched it, it was wet. Figuring she had wet it while washing her hands, I got behind her and began braiding the long black hair.

Instantly I realized it was wet too, what had this girl been doing? “Take a dunk in the lake?” I joked. Brianna didn’t respond and I just worked on braiding all the hair. Finally when it was done, I scooted beside her and looked at my little brother.

Tim was making a sand castle in the dirt with Teresa, who was almost identical to Brianna in looks. “So, which campsite do you live in?” I asked, attempting to make conversation.

Brianna didn’t answer and instead asked, “May I braid your hair in return?”

I laughed that off. “It’s too short.”

“I’ll just make several little braids then,” Brianna decided.

Before I could object, she got to putting the braids in my hair. It happened too fast to be normal but I was still surprised she did it. When I touched it I could feel dozens of tiny braids within my fingers. “Er… thanks.”

“No problem… I got an idea, how about we go to the lake and you can see your reflection?”

“No thanks. We better get back to the camper anyway, dad’s probably ready to go,” I said quickly, getting up and heading over to Tim.

Tim and Teresa had made an excellent sand castle. Teresa didn’t say a word, she merely giggled and pointed at Tim. I pulled his hand and we began heading away.

At this point Brianna got desperate. “Please, please come to me at the lake!” she said, grabbing my free arm and starting to pull. I shoved her away, which was easier said than done.

“I’ll look in the mirror when I get home!” I snapped, picking up my little brother and hurrying off.

When I looked back, both Brianna and Teresa had vanished. The sand castle was gone too, as if it had never been there.

Luckily dad was ready to go, and we got out of the Chapel in the Woods. Oddly enough, my dad didn’t question the dozens of little braids. On the way home, I asked dad, “Hey, did your friend mention any campers that were here, like a little girl and her sister?”

My dad looked at me like I was crazy. “Kate… there are only around ten year old campers left… none of them have children.”

I glanced in the side mirror and my face went white.

My hair was perfectly the same as I left it. I touched it and it still felt like dozens of little braids.

After we got home and I took a long shower, I headed to my computer and Googled "Teresa Brianna Chapel in the Woods."

What I got was a news article:

Five years ago a father took his two daughters out on a camping trip. The girl's uncle came to find them and shot the father in the head. The daughters’ bodies were recovered three days later; apparently, they had been drowned in the lake and left for whatever scavengers to find.

There was also a case of serial drownings that had happened in the past five years… all the people that disappeared were teenage girls and their little siblings.

I can still feel the little braids in my hair.

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