Chapter Text
"Oliver!" A voice called. He looked around anxiously, hands shaking. A boy stood in front of him, no. Not a just a boy. His brother. Griffin frowned as his neck snapped in an unhuman position, blood spattering against the cold tile. "Why did you leave me?" Oliver stepped back, trying to find his footing. "I didn't mean too," his voice came out breathy. Griffin's legs snapped at the knees, pushing out of their joints and tearing through his skin. Oliver tried to scream but it felt as though chains were tightening around his voice box. He managed to breath out one word, "Why?" He inhaled sharply.
Oliver awoke in a cold sweat. His hand ran through his hair and he cringed at the way it stuck to his skin. "Disgusting." He looked out the window as the sun shone through and hit the cabin floors, his eyes squinting as they rendered to the light. Another day of hell. He thought. What could possibly go wrong this time? He kicked his sheets off of his body and swung his legs down onto to cold wood. He stood up and stretched, wincing at the sharp pop he felt in his shoulder. He needed a shower. He groaned as he walked toward the bathroom, gripping the clothes he set out for the day.
After he had gotten out of the shower he was hit with a coldness that would've made the average person shiver. For Oliver it felt warmer than what he was used to out at Camp Alpine. He slipped his Camp Alpine shirt over his black sweater, the rough fabric scratching against his skin. The mirror beckoned his gaze and he was caught staring at his reflection with disdain.He hated how even after he brushed through his shaggy blond hair that it would still look disheveled, tussling endearingly over his eyes.. He hated how his amber eyes would remind him of the same exhausted, shy look his brother would give. He hated how people would judge him from his dark complexion. He hated the freckles that pasted against his skin. He hated himself.
Once he had enough of staring into the mirror and feeling dysphoric, Oliver left the bathroom. He stepped into the kitchen and tore his jacket off from the coat-rack, slipping it over his body and savoring the warmth it gave him. He sighed and grabbed a cup from the cupboard, filling it to the brim with tap-water. His nose scrunched up at the taste. He'd always hated the taste of tap-water, but it was the only way he'd take his pills. He searched along the line of bottles he had until he found the one he put a tag on. He popped his schizophrenia pills, more than he should've, and swallowed it down with water. He wasn't going to go crazy today, at least not in his head.
Oliver opened the door, hissing at the cold breeze that seemed to strip him of any semblance of warmth he had left. He closed the door behind him and walked down the steps, burying his hands in his jacket as his shoes crunched against the snow below. It had been a few years since he'd been hired as camp co-supervisor. He didn't do much. He checked the cabins, made sure people were comfortable with their time. He searched for contraband and made sure no one was out past the normal hours. Three years after his brother's disappearance and finding of the bodies, fourteen year old Oliver did all he could to ignore his grieving process. He spent years after confiding in Ernesto Arellano and Finney Blake, gathering information to explain the deep scars this event had caused. Scars that went beneath ice. Burying himself in work. Anything to escape.
Then he was given an offer to be the camp co-supervisor for Camp Alpine. After two years, Oliver had noticed the occasional paranormal activity, lights flickering, shadows appearing. He chalked it up to his worsening schizophrenia. That was until he had his own encounter with what seemed to be a dead child, clawing at the ice and writing words in the cold matter. Oliver shuddered as he reached the dining pavilion. His coworkers were busy touring others around to notice the phone ringing in the distance. He groaned and grabbed the phone off of the wall, answering to a female's voice. "This is Oliver Stagg from Camp Alpine."
"Did you just say Stagg?" The voice answered. She sounded about fifteen with a demanding tone that transferred to softness. "Yes. Who is this?"
"My name is Gwendolyn Blake. I was calling to ask if you guys had any open cabins for one girl and one boy? We're coming for the counselors in training." A muffled voice came from the background, correcting her mistakes. "Sorry. My brother is bothersome. I meant two." Oliver didn't answer back. He swore he remembered that name. "Uhm. Of course we do. I'll book you guys in for tomorrow." Gwen hummed. "Cool. By the way, your name sounds oddly familiar."
"Vice versa." Oliver answered. "Anyway, I will see you tomorrow. When you drive up to the gate wait for a teenage boy with blond hair to come open it. That's me. I will take you to your assigned cabins for your training. I will tell you that there are gender-specific cabins to prevent... Issues." The line died in silence for a moment. "Sex. You mean sex." Oliver sighed. "Partly. Fighting is another part of the many quarrels of having people in the same cabin. I have to go now, just remember what I told you. Bye." He slammed the phone back into its place, clicking the receiver. Gwendolyn Blake. He heard that name before, he knew that name. He turned and almost jumped back and he saw Jessica, a coworker, standing in front of him. "Jesus!"
"What's up, Olli Ollisbourne?" Oliver took a sharp inhale and calmed down. "First off, don't call me that. Second, do you know anyone named Gwendolyn Blake?" Jessica paused and shrugged. "I think she was the younger sister of that one kidnapped Blake kid. Finnigan?" Oliver rolled his eyes and sighed. "I knew it. God dammit why didn't I ask?!" Jessica tilted her head to the side, curiosity filling her gaze. "Do you know her?"
"Yea, I was good friends with Gwen in middle school. When both our brothers went missing we confided in each other." Oliver smiled faintly at the memory. "We shared classes until we were older, drifting apart in different social status. It was also because I was about to go to a different school because of the constant bullying. I now realize that she just wanted to protect her older brother which jeopardized her friendships." Jessica nodded along and zipped up her jacket. "Well, now you get the chance to apologize to her for anything you did wrong. You can become friends again." She put her hand on Oliver's shoulder and smiled. Oliver had grown to see her as a sister, she was about ten years older than him and she had a dynamic with him that no one could top. "You need to get out more. Talk to people. I have work to do with our boss, but I trust you will fix whatever issues you did in the past."
She let go of his shoulder, his coat scrunched up from the ghost of the previous hand there. He nodded. "See ya at lunch, Jessie." Jessica grinned, her dimples becoming more prominent. Oliver always liked seeing them. It reminded him that if he couldn't live a life of happiness; at least she could. "Catch ya later, Olli."