On a writing site I belong to, there are these collaborative items called "campfires." Several people join (usually by invitation) and then take turns writing scenes in a story--first it's #1's turn, then #2's, then #3's, then back to #1, or however many contributors there are. I generally do not participate in these as I just don't play well with others, plus, I'm not good at picking up in the middle of things (hence why I don't play in RPGs). However, on one occasion, somebody sent me an invite to a campfire that looked right up my alley--I can't remember it well anymore but I think it had to do with cult crimes or something. Awesome! I looked at the item and saw that it hadn't been started, so I didn't have to catch up in the middle of things, and I could even set the tone for the story! I decided I would write up the first part, then join, so I wouldn't join and then have nothing to post. So I sat down and wrote and wrote the item you will now be seeing here. And then I joined the campfire, all anticipation. And then found...
...that it wasn't my turn. Somebody ELSE was up first, and it looked like they were taking their precious time with it, seeing as the story hadn't been started yet!
I was SO steamed. I'd wasted all that time and effort writing an intro that would never be used because I was not first up--seriously, the work I'd done was a total waste, it's not like I could wedge it in after somebody ELSE started the story. I was so mad I didn't want to participate anymore, so quit the campfire, and have resolved never to join any again now that I know how they really work.
Well, I just found that discarded bit of writing and decided to share it since it'll never otherwise see the light of day! So here you go. As I said, I no longer remember the plot of the campfire story, and this is the first time I've set eyes on this thing since writing it back in...cripes, I can't even remember, it's probably from 2001 or 2002. I had to make sure it was even my writing since I honestly don't remember it! Seeing as the names in it aren't names I myself would probably come up with (Dhamascos??), they might have been names given in the intro to the campfire written up by its creator, but I can't be positive. (I've located a copy-&-paste of a campfire invitation (no other information available) in another file, entitled "The Devil Himself," from 3/8/2002, so perhaps this was the one?) Anyway, enjoy my wasted work!
Carina, with Britannia in tow, arrived at the airport before the sky had even begun to grow light. She was relieved sometimes by her daughter's maturity; by now any other nine year old would have been demanding to know where they were going and why. Instead the girl merely held her hand, squeezing a stuffed dinosaur to her chest while Carina pulled along their luggage with her other hand. They hadn't needed much; despite what Darla had said about this sounding like "something big," she assumed otherwise. If Dhamascos wanted them along for nothing more than to merely check the scene out, it couldn't be that important.
The airport was only a small one, so it didn't take her long to check her bags and find the group waiting for her at the proper gate. Darla waved, though it was unnecessary. Beside her stood Lt. Dhamascos, over a head taller than she was, chewing on a toothpick and looking miserable; the gate was in the nonsmoking section. Sitting in one of the chairs was her ex-husband, who glanced up at her as she arrived, then back down at the book he was reading. She managed to catch a glimpse of the title. Another true-crime story. She wondered if he ever read anything else.
"Hello, Danny," she said. Britt lifted her head and blinked drowsily.
"Hi Carina." Danny didn't look up at her again. The two of them hadn't parted on the worst terms, but they hadn't parted on the most amicable terms, either. Britt sighed and Carina sensed her daughter's disappointment that her father showed so little interest in her. This angered her a bit, but she held her tongue. They weren't here to bond with each other.
"So what's the big deal that we all came here for?" she asked, turning to Darla, who was now picking up her own carryon bag. Leave it to Darla to overpack. "I don't see why we couldn't just clear it up at the station..."
"One of those things you should see yourself to believe," Darla said, then rolled her eyes. "Or so the big tough man tells me. I don't know. I just need to get out."
"C'n we go now?" Dhamascos said, spitting out his toothpick. "Pilot's waiting. Just needed you to show up. Damn you're slow sometimes."
"Well, you should know by now I'm not exactly a morning person. Darla's the morning person. What's this all about anyway?"
"Tell you on the jet," Dhamascos said, and turned to the gate.
Darla snorted and hoisted her bag over her shoulder. "C'mon, LT. You can't even give us a little hint? Just one little detail?"
"Tell you on the jet." He disappeared through the gate and Darla shook her head at Carina.
"I swear, sometimes I think he believes he's a secret agent or something. You coming, Danny?"
Danny shut his book and rose, stretching a bit and following Dhamascos without saying a word. Darla and Carina shared a look this time. When they spoke they spoke in unison. "Men."
Britt cocked her head. Carina ruffled her hair and they followed the two policemen.
As they were taking a private jet, Carina didn't anticipate a long wait getting out of the place. She was right; it wasn't long before they were taxiing down the runway, the floor humming beneath their feet. Darla pestered Dhamascos the whole way. The lieutenant stayed perfectly silent even as the jet rose into the air; she finally gave up and flounced back into her seat with a frustrated look, crossing her arms in an exaggerated gesture. Carina felt as impatient as she looked, yet didn't say anything. She knew that pestering didn't work with Dhamascos. He'd talk in his own time.
That time came when Britannia had dozed off, head leaning against Carina's shoulder, and the plane had been in the air about half an hour. At that point he reached beneath his seat to pull out a small case he'd been carrying before. Danny continued reading his book; Darla and Carina watched as the lieutenant opened the case up and pulled out a folder, pulling out of that another folder.
Another eye roll from Darla. "What did I tell you? Take a look in there, maybe you'll find a pen that shoots poison gas or something."
Carina just murmured noncommittally. Dhamascos pulled down the tray on the back of the seat before him and set the folder upon it, opening it up and spreading out what looked to be some pictures. He selected a few and tossed them across to Darla, who had to snatch them before they fluttered into the aisle.
"Damn it! What do I look like, a dog playing fetch?"
"Take a look," Dhamascos grunted, and sat back again.
Darla turned the pictures over and Carina glanced at them over her shoulder. They both frowned at the grainy black and white images.
"What is this stuff I'm looking at, LT?"
"Keep looking at it."
"It's all crappy. I can't tell."
"That's why I want you two along. Least you can take pictures."
Carina sighed. "So that's just it, you want us to take pictures for you? They don't have any crime scene specialists in Mexico?"
This time he at least gave her a frank look. "Ask yourself that question again as soon as we get there, then see if you feel like calling any of 'em in."
Carina didn't answer. She looked at the images again and squinted her eyes.
Even then, under the glaring overhead light, she wasn't certain what she was seeing. It looked to be some sort of clearing on the ground, with a ring of stones...possibly. Something large and dark sat in the middle, like a pot or cauldron. Various other things were scattered along the ground around the large dark object, but no matter how hard she looked at them, she couldn't tell what they were.
Darla appeared to be just as dumbfounded. She shrugged and set the photos on her lap.
"Still no idea what it is, LT."
"Take a look at these then."
A few more pictures fluttered their way. This time Carina caught one and brought it close to her face, expecting another difficult, grainy shot. Which was why she jumped so much that Britt flinched awake when the photograph registered clearly in her mind on the first glance.
Dhamascos pursed his lips. "Got it now?"
Darla peered at the picture along with Carina, who was speechless. Her eyes widened.
"Eeww...is that what I think it is...?"
"What's it look like?"
"A...a hand," Carina whispered. Britt craned her neck in an attempt to see the picture, and Carina suddenly remembered to hold it out of her view. Just in time, because she didn't want her daughter to start having nightmares about severed bodily parts, now.
Dhamascos fiddled with his own overhead light. "That's what it is then."
Darla looked over the other pictures, and stole a few from his tray. From the looks of it, the ground around the...cauldron or whatever...was littered with various things...among them the hand, and what appeared to be a foot, and...who knew what else.
"This is what you called us here for?" Darla murmured. "They cut somebody up, and you want us to take pictures of it?"
"Yep."
"Who?" Carina whispered. Darla, and even Danny, glanced at her. She lifted her head and looked at Dhamascos. "Who cut who up? And why?"
The lieutenant lifted one shoulder, and put another toothpick in his mouth. "That's what you're supposed to find out."
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