Hello again story club members. I'm Ivy, your ghostly host with the most and keeper of the

strangest, spurious tales on earth. Today is another Ivy's chilling tale. This terrifying tale story club members might

make you rethink going camping. This tale comes from story club member Drake and is his first story in a series he calls Camp Nightmare.

I had the craziest summer last year, but nobody will believe me. My name is Richard Brady. My best friend, Zach Reefan and I, were going on a camping trip.

Of course, mom and dad had to come along, but they had promised that they would let Zach and I set

up a tent outside for proper camping while they stayed in the RV right next to us,

just in case.

I was so pumped that we were going because it was three whole days without my annoying little brother, Travis.

He was staying at my Nana's house because my parents thought he was too young to come

along camping. But even without Travis tagging along, the camping trip turned out to be a real

nightmare. My parents, Zach and I, all set off in the RV on a Friday afternoon to drive to the

campsite. At the entrance of the campsite, there was a big rundown sign that read Camp Nightmare.

That's a weird name for a campsite, don't you think? Zach leaned over and whispered to me as my dad steered the RV through the rows of parking spots at Camp Nightmare.

I'm sure it's a joke, Zach, I said. No one goes on holiday to have a nightmare.

I didn't realize yet that we had done just that.

We found a place to park our RV and hook everything up, stuff like power and water,

so that my parents would be comfortable

while Zach and I set up our tent.

While Zach and I were erecting our tent and getting ourselves situated, a middle-aged

man appeared with his son who seemed to be around the same age as Zach and I.

Normally, we would have waved him over to come and hang out with us, but his dad seemed a little strange, so we decided to keep to ourselves. Stranger danger, and all of that, you know.

Besides, it wasn't like we were bored.

...