Chapter Twenty-Two
The embers of the dying campfires created a low glow over the area surrounding the pond, shadows of teenagers slowly gathering their stuff to make their way home for the evening. David sat staring into the low flames of the fire, idly poking at the crumbling crimson logs with a long spit. All the marshmallows had been toasted, the hot dogs roasted, and the cinnamon whiskey drunk; now all that was left was time for the teens that chose to remain to do the one thing that they always loved to do: tell scary stories. David was only half listening to Jesse as he told a tale involving a man who was missing his hand, instead wondering what the ghastly apparition was doing out in the woods. He hadn’t heard its harsh cackles for hours, but he could feel the bottomless eyes watching him from the da
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