————— (often simply said or alternatively written as Blank) (they/them and it/its) was human.
They attended the summer camp known as Camp CGP (or Camp Crankgameplays) every summer. The summer after their 15th birthday (early 2021), they went missing.
They have not been seen or heard from since.
written lore and such under cut <3
Once a normal, human camper, ————— is a resident of the infamous Camp Blank. They ventured a bit too far off the grounds of Camp CGP, only to be lured into the forgotten grounds by the promises of… something. They can’t remember much else but static now.
By the time they realised they shouldn’t have come here, it was too late; the ‘leader,’ so to speak, had claimed them, and ————— gained a permanent bunk in Camp Blank’s decrepit cabins. Not much happens during the days (maybe one or two of the more human campers are out and about, enjoying the sun while they can), but when the moon rises, the camp comes alive. Bonfires, chants, sharing foods and drink under the light of the moon, static buzzing in the background. No one can see, not with the blindfolds and ashen tears, but everyone knows their place in the intricate dance that is living in Camp Blank.
It’s not that bad, really. Not once you get used to the immortality, the inhuman mutations, the static, everywhere, always, you can never leave, the blindness…
No one who tries to leave ever comes back. Whether they successfully escaped, or he got them, no one knows. Most don’t tend to try to find out.
///////////////////////////////
you, like everyone else, used to be human. that was before you got a little too close to the signs that said to stay away. once you start to hear the static, it’s too late. he’s got you. and you are sure as hell not getting back out.
you become morphed.
corrupted.
you can’t go in the sun; it hurts too much, the ashen tears trailing down your cheeks begin to burn anew. the night is when you feel alive again. for the most part, blank is a merciful ruler. bonfires, chants, feasts… the fun activities you’d expect at a summer camp are fairly common. there’s a lake nearby. sometimes you all go night swimming.
the gongoozler sometimes comes up to play with you all. it can be lovely.
but then, someone will get too jumpy, too homesick, too bored, too something, and they’ll try to run, and you will never see them again. that is, provided you ignore the fresh new roast at next weeks feast.
the static hurts your ears sometimes.
you feel a little lost every so often when you realise (how did you even forget?) you can’t see. you used to be able to.
you have to force yourself to stay.
you know the consequences of fleeing. it’s better to stay. it’s better to stay. it’s better to stay.
stay in the static, in the moonlight, in the cheerful (sometimes too cheerful...) voices rising high in the night.
in the morning you will go to sleep and you will dream of going home and you will wake up and know you cannot. never. you are trapped, forever stuck in this hellish limbo.
