Listeners, Please note the following is an immersive audio
drama that includes strong horror themes and potentially
upsetting scenes for some audiences.
For those with specific phobias, please view our show notes or
episode bio for a list of content warnings.
For everyone else, you've been warned.
Thank you, and good luck. Al.
How do you feel about S'mores? S'mores.
I can't get enough of them. Yeah.
Why do you ask? Well, Alan, it's S'mores season.
And you know, S'mores mean fire. Makes sense to me.
And where there's fire, there's smoke.
Yes, indeed. But also the possibility for
wildfires. Oh, no.
That's why we encourage all of our listeners out there to
practice fire safety this summer.
Despite those thunderstorms earlier in the season, Old
Larkville is experiencing a serious drought.
What are some ways we can help? Great question, Al folks can
conserve their water use. Practice caution when building
and using a fire or a fire extinguisher nearby when making
those s'mores, and clear out any dry debris or foliage that could
catch fire by accident. And of course, always make sure
you completely put out your fires when you're done.
Now with that out of the way, I think it's time for s'more
music. They kill me.
I'm hysterical. The night is still.
The forest dark, a distant screen, a Lantern spark Through
tangled woods you make your way where unseen eyes observe their
prey. A creaking branch, a whispered
name, a chilling wind, an Epping flame.
The path ahead is cold and frail.
Secrets weave through night's thin veil.
Old legends speak of spirits near, of those who vanished,
drowned in fear. Moonlight fades and shadows
swell on the trail. To wanna tell.
The. The.
All right, who's got a good story for tonight, Thomas?
Maybe you've got something tonight.
I don't think that's a good idea.
You've been Spacey all day. I I bet a story is just the
thing to cheer you up. Nothing too scary, though.
We want the kids to sleep tonight.
I'm not sure anyone's sleeping tonight, Jen.
I know I'm not. Andrew's nuts.
You ever wonder why we say as I snuff the flame, only ashes
remain when we put out the campfire?
Yeah, it's one of the camp rules, right?
More than just one of the rules. It's a warning.
I didn't take it seriously until recently.
Do you want to hear where it started, Thomas?
It's OK. You don't have to tell a story.
Yeah, we can sing a couple of songs.
No, I think we should tell them. They deserve to know.
I want to know. I'm not scared.
A very, very long time ago, when the camp was first built, there
were already stories about weird things happening.
Sometimes. You heard your name from the
edge of the woods. You might see your best friend
waving at you from a canoe in the middle of the lake, begging
you to race. Maybe you would see the trees
moving closer and closer to the cabins, their roots tugging at
the heavy, dark earth. But they never came into camp.
The fire was for more than warmth, more than s'mores or
stories or songs. It was a barrier to keep things
at Bay. As long as it was burning,
nothing could get close to the camp line.
The things crawling through the woods didn't like the lights and
would linger in the dark away from the flame, far from the
spark. There were three councillors 1
summer just like us, enjoying the cookouts.
They had a great time with their campers and the fire was bright
and strong enough that they didn't have a care in the world.
As the night wore on, the marshmallows ran low and the
flames started to die down. The darker it got, the more they
could hear things moving in the shadows.
They started to listen. What?
What were they listening for? They didn't know, but they heard
it. Low and quiet, almost like the
chittering of teeth, The counsellors grew quiet while the
campers continued to sing and enjoy themselves.
No one looked too cold. No one stood there chattering
away. It's got to be our minds playing
tricks on us, they thought, until one realized where the
sound was coming from right under their feet.
They tried to ignore it, but the lower the fire got, the louder
the noise grew. Eventually, one of the
councillors decided that a better idea would be getting
everyone to bed. Most of the campers reluctantly
started the walk back to their cabins, while a handful lingered
with the councillors. One of the councillors tossed a
bucket of water over the fire and doused what was left at the
cinders. The strange noise stopped just a
hiss and they were left in the dark.
Everything fell absolutely silent until the ash began to
move. It's shifted and crumbled as
small mounds of earth pushed up from beneath.
The chattering sound was back and louder than before.
Before anyone realized what was happening, thousands of fire
ants poured out from the pits. The campers bolted.
Those 3 counselors were left in the dark to be swarmed by
skittering feet. It didn't take them long to
realize the ants weren't fighting.
Wave after wave after wave of them poured out from the ash and
attempts to flee something else that clawed up behind them.
Their terror froze them in place, and they watched as
something thicker than tar pushed its fingers out from the
pit. It didn't have a shape, It
didn't really have substance. It's it just, it just was, it
almost looked like a person, almost.
The eyes were wrong, too big and, and and then too small.
And then there were so many of them crowding in the sockets,
too many to blink. But then the shape, just it, it
fell apart. It had teeth that fit into what
was meant to be a mouth, sharper than glass and twice as long as
your fingers. They were covered in something
thick and the dirt and ash fell onto its tongue when it's tried
to scream tons. I think that's enough.
No, it's not. It devoured every living thing
it touched, Julie. It tore them apart.
This is a. Fake story, right, Jen?
Of course, counsellors couldn't keep their eyes on it.
It slid out of their sight every time they blinked.
It was patience and hungry, and it picked them off 1 by 1 even
as they begged. They couldn't.
They couldn't pleasing with it, probably wouldn't listen if they
tried. In the morning, when other
realized who was missing from their bunks, they weren't
looking. All they found were dozens of
anthills in a fire pits full of pale ash.
Their friends were gone. Where did the mantra come from?
One of the campers had gotten away.
They tried explaining what they saw, but no one believed them.
They reasoned it was just a tragedy.
Maybe they went for a midnight hike and got lost in the woods.
Happens every night after that. That lone camper would lean down
to the edge of the fire, whisper a reminder to the thing that was
hiding as I snuffed the flame. Only ashes remain.
Only ash left behind, only cinders and charcoal.
Other campers picked it up, Other counselors.
Year after year, they made sure that the thing new someone was
watching. Is it?
True. Have any of us ever let the fire
die? All right, Really.
This time? That's enough ghost stories.
Campers. Line up and take any garbage
with you. Julie, get that bucket.
Did you see that? Where?
Look there. It's doing it again.
Someone get the kids back to the cabins.
Keep all the lights on. This isn't funny.
Thomas, thanks for the obvious. Jennifer, take the kids back.
Julie, come help me over here. What did you do?
I think I made it mad. Keep those small parts of the
fire going. Made what mad?
Whatever took Andrew. OK, campers.
Let's go, kiddos. Thomas.
He went home. Julie, the fire.
Keep it low, but keep it going. EW.
Threw on my shoes just a little longer.
What are you doing? I need someone else to see it.
I need someone to believe me. We do.
I do. Can we please put out the fire?
Not yet. Is that a torch?
How did you make that? One of Andrew's shirts?
A stapler and some stuff I found behind the kitchen.
I don't think this is a good idea.
You come on. I was like, as I stuff the
flame. Holy ashes.
Propane. Julie, the water.
Grab the shit, Julie. It hurts.
What was that? Come on.
You have to get up.
We have to get back to the proper camp boundaries.
That's where the light is. No, it's my arm.
I I can't move it. I hate me.
Later. You have to get up.
No, no, no. Don't touch it you asshole.
I'm hating you right now. That's great.
Just move. It's everything OK out there?
Nurse Carol. Wait.
Shit. That might not be her, you
psycho. What are you talking about?
Wait, wait, wait, wait. She has a flashlight.
It hurts. Nurse Carol.
Carol over here. Julie, we have to get that
cleaned. Did you fall into the campfire?
Why didn't someone come get me? It was the same thing that took
Andrew. Let's get you inside, Thomas.
Go to your cabin this instant and stay there.
Is it really bad? We'll take a look.
I have to radio Esther and let her know about this.
So you just want to leave? I want to take as many kids away
from this place as I can and I'm not risking a drive back.
That's four times that it's gotten close that we know about.
Thomas tried to lure it closer so he could attack it it.
Can't get into camp? I beg to disagree.
I overheard Amanda asking Mark for their broom and dustpan.
Apparently a mirror broke in their room.
Did you know about that? It tries things like this every
year. Andrew is dead, Esther sang.
Connie Went Home was easy since she lived out of state, but
these kids know him. Julie was this close to needing
stitches and those were almost second degree burns.
I can only do so much. Just because I worked for the
emergency room doesn't mean this can be one.
This is a summer camp for Christ's sake.
Carol, I can't. Shut it down.
Shut the whole thing down. I'm taking however many can fit
in a van, and that's final. We'll be.
More. Careful no more.
Hikes after dark, I'll make sure the lights are all working in
the cabin. We'll do less outings.
Do you hear yourself? I said that a counselor is dead
and you want to just be more careful.
It's. All I can do right now, Carol, I
still have more than 50 campers who I need to keep safe.
We only have a few weeks left and it's never gotten worse than
this kind of thing. I'll shut it down at the end of
summer. You have to do more than that.
I'm not going to sit here while children are dying.
Clarksville isn't any better. It's better than here.
It lives here, Esther. If Julie wants to come back to
town with me, I'm taking her too.
I can fit almost 20 kids in the van if their bags are on top.
Combine the cabins, mail me my last check and say we all got
food poisoning. You've gotten so good at lying,
I bet that even I would believe you.
Welcome back to the Toad Cabin. Thomas got everything unpacked?
Just about. We keep batteries in the drawer
next to your bunk. Extra flashlights are over there
and the night light in the bathroom stays on at all times.
Somehow I don't think that'll be a problem.
Man, how's Julie live? Hey progress dude.
All I mean is that's good. Did you try telling them what
really happened? Of course, Julie wouldn't look
at them and just kept saying she wanted to go get back to her
cabin When Nurse Carol took the campers.
I assumed we get some kind of announcement about closing up or
something. Food poisoning was a low blow.
We aren't stupid. They know that, right?
Mark? Half of the cabin thinks I work
for Santa Claus. Because you said I would tell
him if they didn't eat dinner. All right, All right.
Duche duche. What does that even mean?
I think it's what you see when you get appointed.
Dennis. Seriously, what do we do?
You're sure you saw it? Yes.
The first time when it took Andrew.
And then when it was some guy wearing a flannel that looked
like his same hair. Then with the fire pits,
something was coming out of it. We should talk to the others and
see if they heard or saw anything.
Sarah, probably. And Cassie?
Sarah's still kind of jumpy. I mean, I would be too if I fell
into a ravine. So you, both of you believe me.
Really. We were here, Thomas, when
Connie went missing, she didn't go home.
I know someone tried calling her folks, but they would just hang
up. What about the girls?
Julie probably believes you. Just a hunch.
Do you want me to grab Jen and the others Mark or tell them to
meet in the mess hall after the campers are all in bed?
Mm. Hmm.
Good call. Especially if Julie is really
going to try to stick it out. I want to make sure everyone
knows what's going on. Have you seen Nurse Carol?
I can't find her anywhere. What happened?
Is Julie worse? No, it's Maggie.
Her eyes are. Her eyes are open but she Amanda
can't wake her up. If her eyes are.
What do you mean she won't wake up?
Credits to the cast in order of appearance.
Geoff Motes as Johnny Cowan Tory Dr. as Alan Wilson Marlin Dance
Hooey as the Narrator. Kelly The Kelhop as Julie
Mackey. Frederick Powers as Thomas
Anderson Meg McKellar as Jennifer Darwin Adele King as
Nurse Carol Eleanor Hewitt Hill as Esther Wade Amman.
HK as Mark Green Luke Kimbrough as Joey Miller.
Additional voices by Eli King Joshua Chamberlain.
Credits to our crew Executive producer and associate writer
Erin Valentine, Lead producer and associate writer Seth
Bridebell, Lead writer Adele King, script editor and law
keeper Eli King, Lead audio engineer, composer and associate
writer Meg McKellar, Audio engineers Este Hernandez, Jacob
Gucci Yamaguchi and Joshua Chamberlain.
Lead visuals artist Dexter Valentine, visuals artist MB
Lee. Thank you for listening to 1.7
Miles to Lake Guanatal, a Honeydew Studios production.
We hope you enjoyed. Tune in next Saturday for a new
episode.