The Bog - Short Story

Five friends have a yearly camping trip in their local bog, only this year they discover something they wish they had not.

Greetings from the cabin I call my writing room. I previously mentioned that I wanted to give you a story a month this year. While that was the goal, writing is unpredictable, and this was originally supposed to be a short story. The more I wrote the more the story took over and morphed into something longer than expected. With that in mind, I have decided to split The Bog into parts. I hope you enjoy part one with part two coming later in February. Be sure to subscribe to be the first to be notified.

Photo by Arsalan Arianmehr on Unsplash

The Bog

It was a yearly tradition, that Jenny, Henry, Emma, Chris, and Hector would at the end of the school year go to the Richfield bog and camp out under the stars. This year was special for the group. Jenny and Chris officially became a couple after months of flirting, even if some didn’t fully understand how it worked.

“But you’re Ace yet dating Jenny?” Hector raised an eyebrow as he helped Chris pitch his tent.

“Yeah, just because I’m ace doesn’t mean I’m averse to dating. I just experience it differently from most.” There was a weariness to Chris’ voice as if he’d repeated this line a thousand times.

Chris didn’t care if he had to repeat himself if it meant more people understood his relationship and didn’t question it. Besides he knew the night wasn’t about their relationship but his friendship. Seven years of camping that started as a prank.

Emma strolled over twirling the pitching hammer between her fingers, joining the others as they watched the sunset.

“Can you believe we’re only doing this because your mom dared us?”

Henry chuckled “She just wanted us out of the house back then, we were filled with so much energy back then.”

“Still do, now who’s gonna help me get some firewood before we lose all our light?” Hector wrapped his hand over Henry’s shoulder.

Henry and Hector chuckle as they head deeper into the bog a dense area filled with thick moss-covered trees and endless patches of boggy marshland. It was like an inescapable mined field of bog. It was a miracle they managed to find solid ground each year.

The camping trip always came with rules, some from their parents and others from experience. Always pack more than one pair of shoes and never go off alone. The two golden rules that up until today had never been broken.

“Gah, damn it.”

Hector huffed and groaned as he pulled his left leg out of the thick peat. His shoes once red now a very dark brown.

“This is going to be a nightmare to clean. I’m gonna have to head back and get started.”

“What are you talking about, you can just put on your other pair when we’ve finished getting the firewood.”

Henry took the lead seeing the pink hue across the sky turn a dark purple. He knew they only had an hour's light left to find what they needed and get back before it was more than shoes that fell victim to the bog. This was the one part of the night he always hated, the collection of firewood. There were years he’d argued they just bring their own, but Emma enjoyed the natural aesthetic of foraging for everything, despite ever joining them on a forage. In fact, Henry didn’t know what Emma did during their trip. He began to think back through the years and couldn’t recall Emma’s role.

She would disappear into her tent staying out of the other’s way, keeping to herself. He never thought about it but he wondered if she ever actually liked this tradition, only coming along due to unspoken peer pressure.

The thought played on his mind while he collected the firewood with Hector, who mostly grumbled under his breath about the state of his shoes. He was practically hypnotized by the idea, that he returned to camp in a trance, drowning out Hector and the snapping of twigs around them.

“Hey, it’s not funny whoever’s doing that. Hey Henry, do you hear that?”

“HENRY” Squealing at the top of his lungs to get his attention.

An undertone of annoyance leaks through Henry’s voice. “What’s with the shouting, I’m right here.”

“I wanted to know if you heard that, you’ve been blanking me. More than normal, like you’re in your own head. What’s going on?”

Henry didn’t want to talk about his thoughts. He brushed off the question shaking his head and ploughing on.

“It’s nothing, now let’s go before it gets dark.”

They returned to camp to find Jenny and Chris had dug a pit and filled it with dead leaves, waiting for the firewood. Hector threw the wood to the ground and ran to his tent, like a child with a full bladder.

Curious, Chris asked, “What’s with him?”

“He stood in a peat field, caked his shoes in mud. I think he’s been complaining about it since. I kinda drowned him out.”

Henry looked around confused by the absence of Emma.

“Hey, where is Emma?”

“I thought she was with you?” Jenny responded with a tinge of concern.

The three sprang into action, looking around their camp for signs of Emma. They all knew the rules and couldn’t understand why she would go off on her own.

“Have you all not noticed this is what she does every year?”

“What do you mean, she’s never gone off on her own. None of us have.” Jenny was defiant in her response. She knew in her heart Emma wouldn’t break the rules.

Henry, however, wasn’t so sure, continually pressing the point.

“But she doesn’t hang with us thought, not in the way we do with each other. She always keeps to herself, like she’s keeping a secret or something.”

His statement was filled with silence as Chris and Jenny stood contemplating. Did Emma always wander off when they camped? They had never really thought about it, but now what they were they couldn’t help but agree. She mostly spent her time in her tent, interacting only when she had to. What was she hiding, they thought to themselves.

“AAAAGGHHHHHH”

Screams cut through their thoughts. The panic and dread echoed through the bog, enough for Hector to peek his head out of his tent.

“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know but it came from over there” Chris pointed to an unexplored area of the bog, a blanket of darkness, made only visible by the flickering flame of their fire.

Chris took charge taking out a torch from his backpack as the screams rang out again. Fear and dread fuelling them as they charge towards the haunting voice.

“It has to be Emma. We have to help her”

“This is why we don’t go off alone.” Hector tried to hide his annoyance.

They all run through the bog, hopping from tiny island to tiny island, avoiding as best they can the treacle-like bog around them. Hector still wearing his soiled trainers revealed to the group, how he forgot the bring a second pair. A decision he instantly regretted. They were running for what seemed like an hour with nothing to guide them other than haunting screams pleading for help.

As the screams got louder, using Chris’ torch they started to make out something in the distance. A structure.

“What the hell is that?”

“Help, I’m stuck. Help!” Emma screams.

They shine their torch over the bog until Hector thrusts his arm forward, spotting Emma waist-deep in the bog, clawing at the semi-solid mud around her as she sinks deeper. They are unable to see the terror on her face, due to the limited light, but can hear it in her voice. They knew they had to act quickly. Hector was the first to spring into action, having already ruined his trainers, he wasn’t too concerned with more layers of mud.

He used Chris as a spotlight tracking a path for him as she used the trees around Emma as stepping stones. Leaping from trunk to trunk, getting as close as he could without becoming stuck himself. Only when he was as close as the trunk would allow him, he was still an arms-length short. He needed to think fast, Emma was still sinking her midriff now receiving a natural mud bath.

“Use your t-shirt as a rope” Jenny shouts from the other side, squeezing Chris’s biceps, leaving impressions as her nails dig in.

With no other ideas coming to mind, Hector rips off his t-shirt and throws one end to Emma to grab. The idea works creating enough tension between the two to pull Emma out without pulling him in. The one thing he didn’t think about was the chafing as his torso rubbed against the rough bark, cutting and scraping, but powering through the pain to pull Emma and two extra pounds of mud out.

They both collapsed exhausted, both unable to ask if the other was okay. The others rushed over relieved everyone was safe, but questions still circled Henry’s mind.

“What the hell Emma? I’m glad you’re safe but what the hell were you doing going off on your own?”

Henry’s blunt questions divided the group with everyone surprised his questioning went straight for the throat.

“What the hell Henry? Let them recover before we interrogate them. Okay?”

Stemming for a response “I-I- I was-” before residing that saying nothing was better than responding.

They let them catch their breaths, recovering from the shock of almost drowning in mud before asking her any questions. Although if they weren’t blinded by adrenaline, they would have seen what Emma was doing or at least where she was going.

“We’re glad you’re okay. You had us worried back there. Although I am confused, why did you go off alone?”

Emma stares at them equally confused. She couldn’t tell if they were just worried about her and didn’t notice it or were woefully ignorant of the structure standing behind them.

“Can you not see it”

She points behind them, hoping what she sees is real and not in her head. The thought had never popped into her head until the moment she realized no one else around her had noticed it.

They all slowly turn around confused but not wanting to question her, amusing her considering the circumstances. Their amusement turned to amazement as they all confirmed to Emma, that she really did see what she thought she saw and almost drowned to see.

“What the hell is that?” confusion rained out from Chris, stepping toward the structure.

“It’s a cabin sweety. I think we can all see that. “

“I know Jenny, but how did we not see it before and why is there a cabin in the middle of the bog?”

The bickering of disbelief continued each questioning how they missed such a thing. Emma believing the adrenaline of trying to save her blinded them to their surroundings. Although she wasn’t fully convinced, she wasn’t sure about anything when it came to the cabin.

The small wooden cabin was built in the middle of the bog, surrounded by boulders and protruding trees, casting long shadows over the moss-covered paneled walls. There is a porch warped by the weather and a broken swing chair in the corner. Whoever lived at the cabin was long gone from the state of the exterior. Two sash windows visible from the front covered in mud and dust hiding the interior from view.

They all slowly crept up the protruding stone path toward the rustic black door, each questioning what Emma knew about the cabin.

“How did you know this was here?”

“Have you been here before?”

“Is this why you come with us on this trip?”

She turned to face them on the porch, unsure where to start with their questions. She had many of her own. She knew this day would come but didn’t plan on it coming to fruition like this. As she took a deep breath, preparing to tell the others everything she knew starting from the beginning the cabin doors creaked open.

To Be Continued.

Thank you for reading. I hope you return for part two. In the meantime, why not check out other short stories written by me -