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WHAT’S THE WORST THAT COULD HAPPEN?
By Mary Perkins

“Come on, dude! What’s the worst that could happen?”

My so called best friend, Daniel, stood in front of our camp fire with a beer in his hand, laughing at me. I hated it when he got this way. When we hung out together he was fine, but any time others were with us he got all pissy and mouthy.

“Yeah dude, “ smirked Mitchell, “you scared or what?” Mitchell was a jerk and I couldn’t understand why Daniel wanted to include him in anything that we did.

It was the Fourth of July weekend and we had decided to go camping in the woods behind my house. We had spent a lot of time here the summer before, not because we really enjoyed camping but mainly because we could sneak in a few six packs without worrying about getting busted. We would stay up until all hours, get drunk, talk shit about girls and then sleep it all off the next day.

But now, Daniel and Mitchell were going to screw all of it up with their stupid plans for the night. I knew I should have stayed at the damn house even if it meant I’d be forced to go to some stupid parade or neighborhood party. Any sort of patriotic holiday was cause for major celebration in our little southern town, and I’d made it a habit to avoid as much of them as possible. I guess I’m not much of a social creature.

Daniel had obviously told Mitchell about the little adventure we had taken the last time we’d been here and I was not happy about it. The main reason being that it was none of his damn business and because Mitchell was not known for keeping his own counsel. He’d never met a secret he wouldn’t share with the rest of the world.

“I’m not afraid of any damn thing.” I said as I popped the tab on my second beer. I closed my eyes and let my mind drift back to the ‘adventure’ that had changed everything.

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The woods behind the house where I lived were typical southern Louisiana forest land. Lots of second growth scrub pine with underbrush making it very difficult to walk in. The ground was hilly and in most places covered with wild blackberry bushes. Low lying areas were frequently filled with water, like mini-swamps. The ground around them was always boggy and if you accidentally stepped onto it, more often than not you’d lose your shoe. Those were places to be avoided since they were unpleasant, dangerous and generally filled with mosquitoes that could eat you alive.

Daniel and I had gotten to our usual campsite an hour or so before full dark, got our little two person tent set up and built a huge fire. We had then proceeded to try to out do each other on the amount of beer we could drink and the lies we could tell. Just another typical weekend for Daniel and Ray.

Along about midnight, the beer was gone and we were feeling pretty relaxed and full of ourselves. Suddenly Daniel said he thought he’d take a little walk to stretch his legs and piss.

“Dude, don’t go too far, “ I said with a laugh, “you don’t want to run into a werewolf or some shit!”

I thought that was a hilarious observation on my part, since we had studied local legends in our literature class just a few months before. We had learned that there was actually stories about the loup garue, a Louisiana based legend. Apparently the loup garue, or shape shifter, had originated in Creole history and stories had been passed down from generation to generation, mostly used to scare young children into good behavior. I had found the stories particularly interesting because they were about Louisiana and some stories actually included the area we lived in. Daniel and I both agreed they were bullshit, but creepy nevertheless.

“Oh yeah, Ray, that’s just what I’m afraid of! A big, hairy slobbering were-mouse coming after me!”

Daniel laughed and walked off into the dark. I leaned back and looked up through the trees into the dark sky. Hardly any stars could be seen, but a huge moon hung over our campsite, silently beaming down on us. Midnight was the quietest time of the night, as if every living creature was holding it’s breath until the hour had passed. Witching hour…..

Suddenly, Daniel shouted from the dark. “Dude! Check this out!”

I jumped so hard that I nearly cried out and I realized I must have fallen asleep.

“What the hell, Daniel! Damn, you scared the crap out of me, where are you?!” I stood up and looked away from the fire into the darkness, waiting for my eyes to adjust. Daniel came running out of the brush and stopped next to the fire putting his hands on his hips, trying to catch his breath.

“Get the flashlights”, he said, “we gotta check this out!”

I fumbled around until I found our back packs and tugged the flashlights out. I couldn’t remember when I’d changed the batteries in mine. Hopefully, the thing worked.

“What is it, man? You scared the hell out of me yelling like that. Did you see a loup garue?” I asked, trying to be funny. He’d really freaked me out with his shouting.

“Ha ha! Very funny, “ Daniel said, running his hands through his hair, “no loup garue, scaredy cat, but something pretty cool, come on!” Grabbing his flashlight, he headed back in the direction he had come from.

He was headed west of our campsite and I followed, wondering what exactly he wanted me to see. Usually when we camped out we stayed pretty close to the fire and tent, especially after dark. These woods were always creepy then. And of course, there was always the danger of running into a swampy bog and getting stuck neck deep in muck. Or deeper. I shivered thinking about the cold slimy water and mud oozing up over my stomach and chest. Ugh! Just the thought of those dark places gave me goose bumps.

After about a hundred yards, Daniel made a left turn and headed north.

“Dude,” I called out, “did you really come this far to take a piss? Where are we going?”

Daniel swung his light back toward me the beam hitting me square in the eyes.

“It’s not THAT far, scaredy cat, come on, it’s the weirdest thing.. And creepy…” his voice trailed off as he slowed down and turned off his flashlight.

I caught up with him and turned out my light. The batteries were definitely fading anyway, the beam was not much brighter than a candle. Just as my light clicked off, clouds passed in front of the moon and we were covered in inky darkness. I shivered so hard my teeth literally clinched together. I was really starting to get spooked out here.

“What…” I started to say, but Daniel cut me off.

“Check it out! It’s some kind of hole, dude!”

I strained my eyes trying to see what he was pointing at. About twenty feet in front of us, the ground suddenly sloped upwards and Daniel pointed his flashlight beam directly at a hole in the incline. I was suddenly covered with goose bumps again.

“Come on,” he said, “let’s get closer.” Daniel started walking up the slope.

“I don’t know, man, it looks like it may be dangerous.” I definitely didn’t want to go into that dark hole. There was something just wrong about it.

“Scared, big man?” Daniel asked sarcastically.

The hole was darker than the darkest night, I followed reluctantly into its black center.

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I opened my eyes on the present, to find Mitchell and Daniel staring down at me.

“Wake up, you scaredy cat,” Daniel laughed at me, “let’s go. Let’s show Mitch what we found.”

Not a good idea, I thought to myself. But whatever, Daniel usually gets what he wants anyway. I stood up and tossed my empty beer can onto the camp fire.

The moon was new on this night and gave off no helpful light to guide our steps. I grabbed my flashlight and followed Daniel and Mitchell’s half drunk progress into the brush. As we walked I tried to think of something to say that would distract these two from the biggest mistake they were ever going to make. But nothing came to me. And deep down, part of me was glad. I hoped that they would get the hell scared out of them.

Arriving at the hole in the earth, Daniel and Mitch immediately headed toward it. They seemed to have no fear or sense of self-preservation. Once again, I tried to discourage them.

“Let’s not do this, guys. There’s nothing in there worth seeing.”

“Ha!” Daniel said, “you are scared! Little scaredy-cat, I knew you’d chicken out!”

The cave, or hole, whatever it was loomed up before us. Bigger, darker, more sinister than the last time I’d seen it. A cool wind suddenly washed around us, making an eerie whistling sound that called to me. I knew that I was going back into that place whether I wanted to or not.

“I said I’m not scared of a damned thing!” I pushed past them and walked into the darkness of hell.

Though the batteries were new, my flashlight beam did very little to dispel the blackness of the hole. I clicked it off.

Daniel and Mitchell followed behind me, their lights tiny pinpoints in the great dark that was this place. I had walked ahead a few paces, waiting for them.

“Wow!” Mitchell whispered, he voice echoing eerily, “What are these drawings on the walls? Looks like freaking caveman stuff!”

“Look at this, “ Daniel said, “it looks like a sketch of a caveman turning into an animal, or something.”

Mitchell moved closer to Daniel and I moved closer to them both. The drawing was crude but clear. A man-like creature in a crouching position with hands over his face was etched on the rock wall. His feet looked like some kind of oversized paws, with huge toenails that seemed to curve under. His hands seemed normal except for the huge nails that reached up over the creatures’ head. There were strange markings written under the drawing and I shivered when I saw them, though I knew what they meant now.

Daniel and Mitchell had their heads together looking at the etchings. I eased closer to them, breathing harder, my heart pounding in my chest.

I felt the change beginning and welcomed it.

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I had followed Daniel into the cave that night against my better judgment. Every instinct in me had screamed for me to run. A damp, chilly breath had met us at the entrance. I had thought it smelled old, ancient and full of something evil, something that was meant to stay in dark places, away from the world of light and sanity.

But I went in.

We had explored the place as best we could with one flashlight. The walls were dank and smeared with soot from many fires. There were remains of a campfire in the center of the cave and Daniel had said we could camp there sometimes. I couldn’t understand how he didn’t feel the evil of this place. I felt it. It had met me outside before I had stepped a foot across the entrance. It talked to me now in whispers. It ran it’s cold hands over my arms, giving me a chill that a thousand campfires could never dispel.

In the back, Daniel had found a skeleton. It lay on it’s back on a mat of what once must have been grass or straw. It’s head was thrown back, and something was wrong with it‘s teeth. They looked like dog teeth poking out of a human jawbone. Against my will, I reached out and touched the fangs, ran my hand over each point. They were wickedly sharp.

“Dude, I’m outta here!” I whispered. “That thing, whatever it was, is not normal!” I headed for the entrance to the cave and for once, Daniel followed my lead.

He grabbed my arm as we headed down the slope. I could feel him trembling. Whether he would admit it or not, he was scared as badly as I was.

Back at the camp, the fear in me began to ease away. Daniel and I talked about what we had seen until dawn began to lighten the eastern horizon. I had very carefully hidden from my friend the small cut on the middle finger of my right hand. Those teeth were wickedly sharp.

We had woken the next day around noon, packed our gear and headed home. Oddly, we’d never talked about our discovery again.

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Until tonight when he’d told Mitchell. Big mistake, dude, I thought, as I reached toward them, the nails on my hands sinking into their soft flesh.

They were wickedly sharp. Like my teeth.

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