CAMP REDACTED. ....

(previous entry)

You ignore the gunshot. Probably just another shootout between Federal Agents and Mr. P. York. Maybe you’ll miss hearing them when you’re in the woods, but you’re not, so who cares? Besides, they have riflery at summer camps. Right?

You check the brochure.

“The program that evolved into Camp Hah-moh-siid for Boys was founded in 1956, with the aim of showing our nation’s young men that violence isn’t always the answer.”

Damn, you think to yourself. No riflery, I guess. You turn the page.

“Activities at Camp Hah-moh-siid for Boys include archery, whittling, fencing, martial-arts, boxing, woodoworking, and riflery.”

Hell yeah, you think to yourself. You wish you had something like that when you were a boy.

You turn to the brouchure for Camp Nih-M’foma-N’i-ak for Girls.

“Camp Nih-M’foma-N’i-ak for Girls was founded in 1956 to show our nation’s young women what a couple months free from such risky behaviors as smoking, drinking, drug use, and promiscuity can really do for one’s—“

You get the idea. You skip a couple of pages—

“Activities include horseback riding, swimming, herbology,” blah blah blah. It sounds like a bunch of lame-ass stuff to you.

Both camps seem to be run by the same foundation, and both seem to be located around the same Lake—Lake Littlemort—way deep in the boonies, nestled way down in some woods, a little less than an hour from some town you’ve never heard of.

You think it over. These brochures couldn’t’ve come at a better time. You need to be out of your apartment immediately, and orientation starts at the end of the week.

Then again—

Something about these brochures rubs you the wrong way. Maybe it’s the names. Something strangely—familiar about them. Both of them.

“Camp Nymphomaniac and Camp Homicide?” your friend Brogan says, taking a look at the brochures as he comes out of the shower. “How on the nose is that?”

Brogan’s still sleeping on your couch, even though you have to have the couch and all the other furniture out of the building in less than seven days. He doesn’t pay rent.

“I pay you in ideas,” he says, from time to time. “Like I have this really cool idea for a story, okay? We could work on it together. It’s called Rune. It takes place in a world where like, there’s space, right? But also—wait—

Wait patiently for Brogan to finish his story.