The Bonfire Season (Chapter 1)

Chapter 1: The Drive Into Black Hollow By the time the sun started sinking, all eight of them were already running late. That was how things usually went when the whole group got together. Someone forgot a charger. Someone packed too much. Someone needed snacks. Someone changed outfits three times. What was supposed to be a smooth afternoon drive to their Halloween camping party had turned into two overloaded SUVs, four coffee stops, one gas station argument over ice, and a group chat full of voice notes, threats, and blurry costume selfies. And somehow, that made it feel perfect. This was exactly why they had all said yes in the first place. It wasn’t really about camping. It wasn’t even really about the Halloween party. It was about one last wild memory before life kept dragging them in different directions. Grace-Lynn stood beside the open trunk of the first SUV in ripped black jeans and an oversized hoodie, holding two bags in one hand and glaring at the disaster inside the car like it had personally offended her. “Tell me why there are six bags of chips, three bottles of vodka, a fog machine, and no one can find the flashlight case.” “Because priorities matter,” Weston said. He leaned against the side of the car with that easy grin of his, all confidence and chaos. Weston was the kind of person who could make strangers laugh in under thirty seconds and make his own friends nervous in ten. He had been the loudest about this trip from the start, hyping it up for weeks, calling it legendary before it had even happened. He also had a habit of acting first and thinking never. Grace-Lynn narrowed her eyes at him. “If we die in the woods because you packed decorative fake cobwebs instead of batteries, I’m haunting you personally.” “You’d miss me too much.” “I really wouldn’t.” Behind them, Octavious was calmly reorganizing the back of the second SUV with the patience of a saint and the expression of someone trying very hard not to regret being friends with idiots. Octavious was the one people trusted without even realizing they did. He wasn’t loud, didn’t need attention, and never forced himself to the center of anything, but somehow when things needed to get handled, everybody ended up looking at him. He was practical, steady, and annoyingly good at staying levelheaded. He held up a plastic container. “I found the batteries. They were in the cooler.” There was a pause. Then Theodore pointed at Weston. “Jail.” Weston threw his hands up. “That was one time.” “That was today,” said Luther. Luther stood slightly apart from the group, holding a duffel over one shoulder. He wasn’t unfriendly—just quieter than the rest, the kind of person who watched more than he spoke. When he did say something, it usually landed harder because everybody knew he meant it. He had a dry humor that could sneak up on you and a look on his face that always made it seem like he knew something he hadn’t said yet. Theodore, on the other hand, never seemed to know when to stop talking. That was part of his charm. He bounced around the parking lot in a half-buttoned flannel and jeans, carrying two grocery bags and somehow making even that look theatrical. Theodore was dramatic in a way that never quite crossed into fake. Everything with him was louder, bigger, funnier. He could turn a gas station stop into a story and a bad situation into a bit, which was usually useful—until it wasn’t. He tossed one of the bags into the trunk. “I’d just like the record to show that I brought the marshmallows, the hot dogs, the matches, and the mini candy bars. So when y’all are warm and fed later, remember who loves you.” “No one asked for hot dogs,” Leighanna said. Leighanna shut the passenger door of the SUV and adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. She had the kind of presence that didn’t need to be loud to be felt. Smart eyes. Good posture. Controlled expression. Even when she was joking, there was usually a little distance to her, as if part of her stayed protected no matter who she was with. But tonight there was excitement under it too, hidden in the corners of her smile. “And yet,” Theodore said, placing a hand over his chest, “one day you’ll understand my vision.” Leighanna gave him a look. “Your vision is sodium and bad decisions.” “That is also Weston’s vision,” Regan added. Regan was leaning on the hood with his arms folded, laughing at everybody else while pretending he was above the chaos. He had that restless kind of energy that came from always needing something to do with his hands, his mouth, his attention. Quick with jokes, quick to challenge people, quick to act like he wasn’t bothered even when he absolutely was. He and Weston fed off each other in a way that could be hilarious or exhausting depending on the hour. Weston pointed at him. “You’re lucky I invited you.” “You invited yourself to your own plan and just dragged us into it.” “That is leadership.” “That is kidnapping with decorations.” Cashmere laughed from the far side of the car, where they were sitting on the edge of the trunk fixing a silver ring back onto one finger. Cashmere always looked put together in a way that seemed effortless until you paid attention and realized every detail was deliberate. The layered jewelry, the sharp eyeliner, the clothes that somehow felt both soft and untouchable. But it was their energy that people remembered most—warm one minute, distant the next, thoughtful in a way that made their silences feel full instead of empty. They looked up with a crooked smile. “Honestly, if this ends with all of us on a missing persons poster, I want everyone to know I almost stayed home.” That got a few laughs. Too many, maybe. Because for a second, the words hung there. Grace-Lynn noticed it first. That tiny weird pause after the joke. The subtle shift in the air. “Why almost?” she asked. Cashmere shrugged, but not casually enough. “Bad feeling.” Weston groaned. “No. Absolutely not. We are not starting creepy foreshadowing in the parking lot.” “I’m serious.” “Cashmere,” Theodore said, lowering his voice theatrically, “if you sensed doom and still came, that’s kind of on you.” Cashmere smirked. “That’s fair.” Octavious closed the trunk. “Everybody got their phones charged?” A chorus of mixed yeses followed. “Portable chargers?” More uncertain answers. He sighed. “Great. We’re all going to die because none of you prepare for anything.” “Again with the die talk,” Weston said. “Can we maybe manifest a sexy, memorable, iconic night instead?” “That usually is how people die,” Luther muttered. Even Grace-Lynn laughed at that. For a little while, it all felt normal. That was the worst part later—how normal it had felt. The drive started loud. Music up. Windows cracked. Weston and Regan arguing over the playlist. Theodore singing songs he didn’t know. Leighanna pretending to be annoyed. Cashmere recording bits and pieces on their phone. Octavious driving like he was transporting something fragile. Grace-Lynn in the passenger seat, half involved in the conversation and half watching the road ahead as the city gave way to empty stretches of highway. In the second SUV, Luther drove in silence for long stretches while Theodore filled them with commentary. Regan kept sending ridiculous voice notes to the group chat from the seat behind him. Leighanna occasionally reached over to turn the music down when it got unbearable. Cashmere sat by the window watching trees flash by in the dusk. At the first gas station stop, they all piled out into yellow light and cold air. Weston bought more beer. Theodore bought enough candy for a small army. Grace-Lynn bought energy drinks and ibuprofen. Leighanna came out with wet wipes, gum, and a look that said she didn’t trust any of them to survive without her. Octavious topped off both tanks and checked the tires. Regan flirted badly with the cashier. Luther stood outside under the buzzing sign, staring toward the dark tree line beyond the parking lot. Cashmere noticed. “What?” Luther looked back at them after a second. “Nothing.” But his expression said otherwise. Back on the road, the highways narrowed. The streetlights thinned out. Trees grew taller on both sides, black branches lacing together overhead. The group got quieter the deeper they drove. Not silent. Just softer. Like the woods were listening. Grace-Lynn watched headlights spill over an old wooden sign half-hidden by vines. BLACK HOLLOW – COUNTY ACCESS ROAD Something about the name made her sit up straighter. “You really picked a place called Black Hollow?” she asked. From the backseat, Weston grinned. “Tell me that doesn’t sound incredible.” “It sounds like where bodies are found.” “Exactly. Atmosphere.” Octavious kept his eyes on the road. “It also sounds like somewhere with no signal, so text whoever you need to text now.” That made everyone check their phones. One by one, little bars dropped. Regan groaned. “Fantastic.” Theodore leaned forward between the seats. “Okay but genuinely, if a masked killer comes out here, which one of us dies first?” “Weston,” Grace-Lynn said immediately. “Rude,” Weston replied. “You’d literally investigate a noise.” “You would too.” Grace-Lynn opened her mouth, then closed it. Everyone laughed. Leighanna looked out the window. “No, he’s right.” “What?” asked Octavious. She didn’t answer at first. Then she said, very quietly, “I just feel like once we get there, something’s going to feel off.” The joking died down after that. The road turned to cracked pavement, then gravel in places, then back again. The trees pressed closer. Their headlights caught old fencing, broken signs, and stretches of woods that looked too deep for the amount of land there should have been. Then they saw it. The old property sign. Tilted. Weather-rotted. Barely readable. MORROW HOUSE – PRIVATE LAND And beyond it, through the trees, the dark outline of the abandoned lodge. No one said anything for a few seconds. Even Weston. The place looked wrong before they even stepped out. The lodge sat at the edge of a clearing like it had been left there by mistake—two stories of sagging wood, black windows, and a porch leaning slightly to one side. The campsite nearby was open enough for the cars, tents, and bonfire setup Weston had promised, but the woods around it felt close. Too close. Like they had edged in over time. When the engines cut off, the silence rushed in. No city hum. No distant traffic. No neighborhood noise. Just wind. And somewhere far off, something metallic hitting something hollow. Clang. Grace-Lynn got out first and looked around. “The vibe is,” Theodore said from behind her, “deeply illegal.” “The vibe is amazing,” Weston said, though even he sounded less certain now. Octavious opened the back and started unloading gear. “Let’s set up before it gets fully dark.” Everybody moved then, slipping back into routine. Leighanna and Cashmere started sorting bags. Regan dragged out folding chairs and complained the whole time. Theodore carried lanterns and talked too much. Luther set down the tents with quiet efficiency. Weston kept trying to get everyone hyped back up. Grace-Lynn wandered a little farther toward the firepit. She stopped. There was ash inside. Fresh-looking ash. She crouched and touched the edge of one blackened piece of wood. Not warm. But not old either. Someone had used this pit recently. “Octavious,” she called. He came over. “What?” She pointed. He studied the ash, then the woods, then the house. “That wasn’t here by accident,” he said. Behind them, Cashmere had turned slowly toward the second floor of the lodge. “What is it?” Leighanna asked. Cashmere didn’t answer right away. Then they said, “I thought I saw someone in the window.” Everybody looked up. The upstairs window was dark. Empty. Weston forced out a laugh. “Okay. Great. Cool. Love that for us.” Regan grabbed a lantern. “Probably an animal.” “In a window?” Grace-Lynn asked. “An ambitious animal.” Nobody laughed that time. The sun slipped lower. The clearing darkened. And somewhere past the tree line, hidden where none of them could see, someone stood very still and watched the eight friends unload their costumes, their drinks, their blankets, their food, and all the little pieces of themselves they had brought into Black Hollow. Watching who led. Watching who wandered. Watching who stayed close. Watching who would be hardest to break. The figure raised a phone and took a photo. Eight friends. Still smiling. Still whole. Still unaware. Then the figure stepped backward into the trees and disappeared. Cast Members : MarieEve Grace-Lynn She/Her Cinnamon Octavious: He/Him YanderTron21 Weston: He/Him Rain Regan: He/Him RobbieRIOT Leighanna: She/Her hwest14 Theodore: He/Him Envious Luther: He/Him Justini Cashmere: She/They Chapter 2 will be posted either tonight or tomorrow ! I hope you all enjoy and good luck Survivors ☠️🔪