Camp Rock Novels & Stories

But boredom has finally won out over whatever deeply-rooted awkwardness I have about him, and now’s the time. The camp itself is actually in a brilliant location—deep near the edge of the Winterfall border, close to Canada. Canadian packs have remained neutral, so if things go south, we can make a quick escape. And aside from the brutal cold, the camp is surprisingly well-equipped. There’s a lake nearby, perfect for hunting, fishing, and bathing. Caroline keeps calling this a vacation, which only proves that she is unwell.

It splattered across his face like war paint. The second man was shaking now. He stared at his companion's body as it lay twisted, steaming slightly from the silver that had burned in the wounds. “I-I’ll talk,” he croaked. Eric approached slowly. “Names. Locations. Everything.” “There’s... there’s a camp,” he stammered. “North of Blackpine Temple. Hidden beneath the mountain lake. They’re calling it The Cradle. Vincent,he’s gathering blood mages. Rogues. Shadow wolves.”

She doesn’t bolt. She listens. And I do, too. The camp is carved into a crater in the forest floor—burned trees ring its edge like blackened ribs. There are no tents or structures—just hollowed dens, bark-walled nests, and firepits ringed in teeth. It doesn’t smell like decay. It smells like bone and smoke and survival. I walk ahead of Kael for the first time in miles. Not because I want distance. Because I need space to breathe.

“Most of those cars are dropped off here while everyone’s on tour.” “Tour?” Carrie asked. “Yeah,” she replied. “We have a local group that organizes a mix of camping trips and fuck fests every quarter.” Her bluntness was completely natural— although her hair color— bright blue streaks in black hair— and her boobs were obviously artificial. “They all load up on a bus with long couches and coolers and invade local parks or out of the way hotels for the weekend.” She looked at Carrie. “You should go sometime; I bet we could have a blast.”

“Don’t leave me, Sienna. Everyone else has. My band, my so-called friends… they all fucking left. I know I’m messed up. I know I push too hard. But I need you here. Stay. Please.” I didn’t know what to say. The raw pain in his eyes cracked something inside me. He disappeared into the kitchen for a minute and came back with my favorite iced coffee — the one with extra caramel he’d somehow remembered. Later, he sat me on the studio couch and picked up his guitar. “I wrote this last night,” he said quietly. “After you slapped me. After you came for me.” His raspy voice filled the room as he sang. The lyrics were dark, beautiful, and painfully honest — about a cop who cuffed his heart and refuse

"Or he signed something six years ago and has spent every day since trying to unsign it, and could not tell us because the moment he says it out loud he stops being useful to us and starts being a man we have to decide about." "Which do you believe?" "I do not get to believe. I get to go and look." We came over the last rise a little after four. The camp sat in a fold of ground that you would ride past twice without seeing, which I imagine is the entire reason it is there. Low turf roofs. A picket line. Smoke going up thin and pale and being pulled apart by the wind before it cleared the ridge, because people who live like that learn to burn wood that does not announce them.

He complained and i looked across the street. “But the bank’s still there. Don’t the men come around anymore?” I asked and he scoffed. “Its not about that anymore, where are the girls?” He asked. “I lost more than five of my best girls around here. Favorites of those men that come around and now i’m left with amateurs that can’t even go round a pole to save their lives” He scoffed. “That they dont even come around anymore” “And then there’s the news. The Jones’ bar. The murder capital of the state if there’s something like that. There’s Ruby and Amelia. Word spreads and this mess, it aint good on reputation” He said.

They slowly pulled up to a line of trucks and trailers, waiting for entrance to what they could only assume was the camp grounds. “I’m wanted...Dead or Alive!” they crooned, “I walk these streets, a loaded six string on my back” Black Betty slowly creeped in line, making her way towards the rodeo grounds, a large open area unlike anything Sam had ever competed in. The area was huge, with an arena for broncs and bulls, and a separate area for barrels and poles. Next to it must have been a camping area of at least 2 acres. And in the distance was Yellowstone National Park, beautiful as ever. Sam was laughing, her eyes dancing with joy, Dani yelling out the words. "Oh, I still drive..."

He was grateful for Colton's presence which brought him back to his senses before he totally lost it. Colton Luke has been Brian's boy since Colt came to intern in Matthews creation a few years back. He worked as Brian's assistant for a little over two months and Brian got fond of him. He was smart, determined, he hardly got on Brian's toes, unlike his previous assistants who weren't even interns, he was a fast learner, a sort of a tech guru and the list goes on and on. Brian had no choice but to retain Colt who was beyond thrilled to work for him. Apart from the good pay, Colt gets to travel around the world and learn from the best. He has been working for Brian for almost four years now. C

“Let’s started. We know the cult has been performing some very sketchy rituals. We know where you’ve performed them. You need to confirm all the sites for us. What we also want to know is why you performed them. What is your agenda? We need to know what your goal is.” It wasn’t hard to get him to speak now. Larry spewed out five locations. Everyone was underground. Natural caves or abandoned mining tunnels. The problem came when he tried to explain why they performed the rituals. He couldn’t get the words out. It took Arianna a long time to pull even a fraction of what they needed from him.