Going camping was a frequent occurrence in your household growing up. The toasted marshmallows, charred meat, and the cold night air slipping its way into your tent at the dead of night. There was something so nostalgic about it. A nostalgia that you began to crave as you got older.

On a random weekend, you decided to pack your essentials into a duffel bag, order a tent from Amazon and go on your way to camp out for the weekend.

So far, things were going pretty smoothly, and you managed to figure out how to assemble your tent without the help of a YouTube video. However, once the sun had started to set, that was when things got difficult. Sleep felt almost impossible. You kept tossing and turning, your brain fixating on the littlest eerie sounds from outside your tent, convincing you that there was, in fact, a murderer outside.

After what felt like hours, you gave up, packing everything back up whilst occasionally taking the time to wearily check your surroundings. Soon enough you were trudging your way back to the one isolated road that ran through this place.

There was a lingering feeling in your gut that nobody would drive past. But there was no other option. Your phone had died, and the one thing you’d forgot to pack was a charger.

You were starting to give up, your exhaustion slowly taking over your fear of the dark, and you were fully ready to just pass out on the roadside. That was until the blaring sight of headlights in the distance began to appear. A car. Thank god.

As it approached, you began to frantically wave your arms in attempt to catch the attention of the driver. The thought of them being some psychopath was far from pleasant. But you were willing to risk it at this point.

By the grace of whatever gods resided above, the car gradually slowed to a stop at your side as the driver simultaneously rolled down the window.

“Uh, can I help you? These roads are dangerous, you shouldn’t be out here this late.”