Chapter Five: It’s Like Cramming for Finals, Only Somehow Even More Deadly

Gotta study hard to get that A+. Getting a B- isn't as good when the test is survival.

Victor and Charlie slowly turned and looked at each other. This was impossible. Whatever a “wyrm” was, it didn’t exist. It couldn’t exist. And yet, Victor couldn’t deny that the blood drying on his pants belonged to anything different. He released a breath he forgot he had been holding.The thing that attacked them was a wyrm. From that night to the apparent existence of wyrms, Victor began to wonder what else was going to happen, and what other impossible things they could run into. He felt like the world around him wasn’t his own anymore. Like it belonged to something bigger, more powerful than he could ever even comprehend. He shook his head in frustration. There’d be time to worry about that later. He had to keep himself together, at least until he got to the director’s office so he could call home. All he wanted was to hear his parents’ voices, telling him it was all going to be okay.

Victor unzipped his daypack and broke open a bag of trail mix. His mom always made him pack a few bags of it ‘just in case’. He hated the stuff, but none of them had eaten breakfast because the blast last night had messed up their daily schedule. He ate a small handful, and was instantly reminded why he didn’t eat it. Charlie was still processing the wyrm’s presence in his book, so Victor gently pulled it from his hands and replaced it with his trail mix bag.

“Eat up, man.” Victor told him, sliding a leaf into the book to mark the wyrm’s page, “We’ll think of a plan once we get to the director’s office. Until then, we’re playing it safe. Don't worry.”

Charlie nodded reluctantly, and began to empty trail mix into his hand. Lance strolled over, rifles in hand. Victor turned back to the page and held it up for him to see. Thankfully, his reaction was much calmer and more casual than Victor’s or Charlie’s.

Lance made an impressed whistle upon seeing the page’s contents. “Wow, alright. At least we know what we're dealing with now, right?”

Victor nodded. “Yep. A wyrm. We're going to rest up for a few minutes, then we're going to head to the Camp Director’s office.”

“Sounds like a plan. You have any more of that trail mix? I'm starving!”

Victor ignored how normal Lance was treating everything, and rummaged through his bag until he found another bag of trail mix. Lance laid the rifles against a nearby tree before sitting next to Charlie, motioning Victor to pass a bag to him. Victor tossed one to him, and began to read the page about wyrm's in Charlie’s book.

The book was very descriptive about wyrm's in ancient folklore and mythologies from various civilizations, but it eventually mentioned information Victor could use. A few paragraphs in, it said that wyrms usually lived in very old caves, but that some inhabited swamplands.

Victor began to approach the scenario more intelligently. There’s a swamp a couple dozen miles south, but that’s a good ways away for a wyrm to travel in one night all on its own, even if it had stayed moving all night. So maybe there’s a cave that it came from?

Victor made a mental note to keep an eye out for caves and turned his attention back to the book. It went on to say that their forms varied from culture to culture, with some having multiple heads and some not having wings and some that can even talk. They were said to covet gold and treasure as all dragons do, and that they keep hoards of treasure in their nests.

Okay, good to know. Last thing I need is Lance accidentally pissing one off because he found a penny that’s face-up inside of a hole somewhere.

Victor looked up from the book, and saw that his friends had finished up their small breakfast and were standing up to go. Charlie seemed to have calmed down, happy to have had time to process their situation and something to eat. Victor slung his stuff over his shoulder and picked up one of the rifles, admiring the weight and feel of the weapon in his hands. The others made similar preparations, Lance carrying the other rifle and Charlie clutching his book close to his chest. Once everyone was ready, they began to make their way towards the camp’s main office.

…

By the time they made it to the parade grounds, it was already noon. Counselors were running in and out of the mess hall like ants in an anthill, carrying boxes and tables into the large building. The medical cabin was being completely emptied, with a small horde of staff members transporting as much as they could carry back to the mess hall.

One of the chief staff members, Mr. Slavak jogged over to meet them. His head was shaved, but he actually pulled it off pretty well. He was unusually muscular, but his jovial nature gave his presence a reassuring aura instead of an intimidating one. This reassuring aura was noticeably absent, a panicked expression making itself visible on his face as he drew closer.

“Are you guys alright?” Mr. Slavak demanded, “Are you hurt? We can get you inside with the others, we’ll have someone looking at you as soon as we can.”

“Hey, hey, hey! We're fine man! We got in a scuffle with a wyrm but it didn't hurt anybody!” Lance assured.

Mr. Slavak’s concern melted into confusion and curiosity. “You fought a worm?”

“That’s spelled with a Y, not an O, sir.” Victor explained, “Though the kind of worm you're thinking of would've been a much easier fight.”

Mr. Slavak smirked, but stood silently, patiently  for them to explain. Victor stepped forward and began to recount the group’s experiences so far, beginning with Lance visiting the cabin to finding out what the wyrm was.

“Gotta say, you've got one of the more interesting stories so far.” Admitted Mr. Slavak, “A lot of the other staff have run into weird creatures, but none of them have actually fought them.”

Victor’s brow knit together. “Other creatures? What other creatures?”

“Well, a few others mentioned wyrms like the one you ran into, but a few counselors were talking about some kind of large cat-like thing with metallic fur and a long tail. We’re treating a guy that claims that he was attacked by a flying head with wings coming out of it. One person claims his cabin mate disappeared chasing off some kind of small gnome-dwarf thing that was going through his stuff.”

Victor turned to Charlie, who was already furiously flipping through his book. He frowned, shook his head, and pulled another, smaller green book from his daypack. As Victor was about to ask why he had so many books, Charlie handed him the green book to him, pointing to a specific paragraph. Victor struggled to speak the title of the passage.

“Mi-Mishy-Mishipi-Mi-”

“Mishipeshu.” Charlie corrected, “That's pronounced ‘mih-shih-pesh-ooh’”

“Yeah, that. Says here it has copper fur, spikes on its back, and a ridiculously long tail.”

“Sounds like our guy.” Mr. Slavak confirmed, “Does that book mention how to kill it?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, goodie. What're the odds of it coming to camp?”

“Pretty low, actually.” chimed in Charlie, “Mishipeshu typically live in the bottoms of lakes, and only come out to attack intruders in its territory.”

“So we avoid the lake from now on. Easy as pie.” Slavak decided

Lance piped up, restless from standing idle while the other three talked.

“Hey, is there any food left in the mess hall? Trail mix can only get you so far.”

You're welcome. Thought Victor

“We have a few Uncrustables left inside. I'll get them for you, you guys take it easy.” Mr. Slavak offered

“Thank you!”

“Thank you, sir!”

“Thanks, man!”

As Mr. Slavak jogged back to the mess hall, the three boys turned to look at each other. It was bad enough knowing wyrms were running amok, but the confirmation that there were more monsters running around made matters ridiculously worse.

“So what do we do now?” Wondered Charlie aloud

“Maybe we go look for more staff members that need help?” Lance offered

Victor’s answer was blunt but truthful.

“If we go running out there without knowing where to look, we may be the next ones that need to be rescued. And quite honestly? I don’t think everyone has quite recovered enough to go venturing out to save people, so we might not get rescued for a while if our luck takes a turn for the worse. If we want to go help find others, we shouldn’t go too far in case we need help.”

“You don’t have to look too far.”

The group turned to see their interrupting eavesdropper. A girl, maybe a junior or senior in high school, stood with her hands on her hips facing them. Her light brown hair was neatly tied in a long braid that dropped down to the bottom of her back. She had dark brown eyes that were confident and intense, pinning the boys in place with their dominating gaze. Instead of the traditional camp staff t-shirt and jeans, she wore a light blue shirt with denim shorts. Her slender frame contrasted with her aura of power and authority.

“Hello, my name is Morgan Lafayette.” She began, “I believe you were just talking about finding the rest of the staff, correct?”

“Uh, yeah, but we should probably eat or som-”

“Great! Come on, I'll explain on the way.”

Morgan grabbed Victor and Lance by the wrists and began to drag them away. As Charlie ran up to join them, (moreso to free his friends than to go on another ‘adventure’) Victor yanked his arm free, somewhat annoyed with the girl’s attitude and rudeness. Seeing Victor pull himself free, Lance followed his lead, even though it was clear that he was actually eager to get moving and do something. As Victor was about to give Morgan what-for, a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks for him.

“Oh, good, Morgan! I was hoping you'd turn up!”

Mr. Slavak was casually walking over to the group, Uncrustables in hand. Morgan’s face flickered with annoyance, but quickly shifted into a bright, cheerleader-esque smile.

“Mr. Slavak! So good to see you!” She gushed unconvincingly, “What can I do to help you?”

“Whenever you smile, I know it’s because you’re up to no good. Stop bothering these guys, alright? They just killed a wyrm and they're some of the only ones from the whole west side of camp to come back.”

Morgan’s cheerful facade dropped with confusion.

“A worm? Like, the things that crawl on the sidewalk and die when it rains too hard?”

“No, let me explain..”

Victor knew that they were talking, but all the sound around him had vanished. The only thing his mind could process was what Mr. Slavak had said. They were some of the only ones from the west side of camp that came back. Out of everyone over there, all the people Victor saw unpacking their things on day one, he was one of a handful of survivors from that whole side of camp.

“What killed them?” He asked to nobody in particular

Morgan and Slavak stopped talking and turned to Victor.

“What was that?”

“We’re the only staff from the west side to come back. What happened to the others?”

Mr. Slavak sighed and looked over towards where Victor and his friends had entered the parade grounds.

“We’re not sure.” He admitted, “One counselor reported a lion with eagle claws. Two others mentioned a giant covered in ice and fur. The last one is getting first aid in the mess hall, but she mentioned some kind of deer-puma-snake thing chasing her and her friends.”

“Why is she in the mess hall for first aid? Why not the medical cabin?” Joined in Charlie, his interest piqued

“We needed a large table to lay her on, and the medical cabin was too far.” He answered grimly

“But why would you need a whole ta-”

Charlie’s question was cut off by Victor’s elbow quickly nudging him in the side. Victor knew why they needed to get her on the table, and that this was not something that Charlie could emotionally handle. He turned to Lance and nodded towards a nearby picnic table. Lance looked and nodded, grabbing their bags and carrying them over.

“Hey, Charlie, do any of those things sound familiar? Could they be in any of your books?” Requested Victor calmly

“I don't know. I can find out. Just gimme a bit, I'll look.”

“Lance and I are gonna join you. We gotta figure out what we’re dealing with before we go anywhere.”

Mr. Slavak gave the boys a small smile, and left the sandwiches on the table where Lance had placed their bags. As he began to walk away to leave the boys to their research, Morgan turned to join him. Slavak put a hand up to stop her, and pointed a thumb at Victor and his friends cracking open various books on mythologies and monsters.

“If you want people to help you, it’s usually a good idea to try to help them as well. Most people don't want to help someone who bosses them around. That tends to just piss people off. Just sayin’.”

Morgan sneered, and trudged over to join the boys in their research. She plopped down right next to Lance, snatched the book from his hands, and began to scan the pages. Victor turned back to Slavak, who gave him a thumbs up before returning to the mess hall.