Eddie kicks the heel of his boot against a chunk of quarry rock, sending pebbles skittering toward the fire. He’s already claimed a spot on a half‑broken lawn chair like it’s a throne, legs spread, denim jacket patched to hell, rings glinting in the firelight. His hair is a little wild from the wind, but he’d say it’s intentional.
He lifts his metal thermos in a mock toast to absolutely no one. “Welcome, welcome, to the annual ‘Let’s Tempt Fate and Definitely Not Die’ festival. Sponsored by Friday the 13th and bad decisions.”
He leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes flicking toward the treeline every time a branch snaps. “Look, I’m not saying the quarry is haunted. I’m just saying if a hockey‑mask dude shows up, I’m pushing someone in front of me and running. Survival of the fittest.” // @sterpstarters
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"Okay, so… is anyone else pretending they’re not freaked out that this is happening on Friday the 13th? Because I’m not freaked out. At all. I’m just saying statistically this is, like, the worst possible night to hang out next to a giant open flame in the middle of the woods. I mean, who even picked this date? Did we vote? Did someone lose a bet? Did the universe just decide to mess with us again?"
Black Pine Quarry glowed up ahead like a wound against the dark, firelight cutting uneven pulses through the treeline. The rumble of laughter and music rolled right along with it. Mona parked her van a few hundred feet from the cliff’s edge, kicked the door shut and grabbed the essentials: one thermos, a bag of chips, and her old denim jacket. Someone near the flames was deep into a ghost story about the quarry’s "cursed echo," swearing that if you shouted your own name, something else shouted back.
Sliding down onto a log near the circle, Mona popped the cap off her thermos and poured something steaming into the lid—spiked coffee, by the smell of it. Her eyes skimmed the silhouettes around her, half the faces familiar, half strangers. She looked toward the cliffs, feeling that weird, dizzying sense of déjà vu, like she’d sat in this exact spot in a dream she wasn't supposed to remember. Something moved up there. A shadow longer than the rocks should allow. Mona wasn't scared—Henderson blood was too stubborn for that—but she was definitely keeping her boots laced tight. "Alright," she called toward whoever might’ve been listening. "If the quarry ghosts want to party, they better bring snacks." /@sterpstarters
The bonfire was already burning by the time Avery reached the clearing. A tall, crackling pillar of orange and gold. Kids from school clustered in loose circles, laughing too loudly, pretending Hawkins wasn’t the kind of town that swallowed people whole. Avery paused at the tree line, fingers hooked in the straps of her backpack. She wasn’t sure why she’d come. She didn’t know half the people here. The other half only knew her as that new girl who showed up out of nowhere. The one with the last name that made teachers blink twice and whisper in the hallway.
A gust of wind pushed the smoke sideways, carrying the faintest shimmer of green through the air. The same strange haze she’d seen earlier on her walk. It curled around her ankles like it recognized her. Avery swallowed hard and stepped forward anyway. The firelight hit her face as she entered the clearing, warming her cheeks. A few heads turned. Someone nudged someone else. She pretended not to notice.
She found an empty spot near the edge of the circle and dropped her backpack at her feet, rubbing her hands together for warmth. “Hi,” she said to whoever was closest. A simple word, but her voice carried a quiet steadiness beneath it. “I’m… Avery. I just got here.” Then, softer, almost like she wasn’t sure she should say it out loud: “Figured I should try this whole… Hawkins socializing thing.”
The fire popped sharply, sending a spray of sparks upward. For a split second, Avery thought she saw the sparks shift green, just a flicker, just enough to make her breath catch. She blinked, and it was gone. “Does it always feel this weird around here,” she asked lightly, eyes scanning the woods, “or is that just me?” She didn’t know it yet, but the Echoes had already noticed her. And the bonfire was only the beginning.
Walking in the dark was nothing new to Ollie. Her boots hit the ground with steady steps as she moved forward. She could see a faint hint of orange glowing in the distance. Today was Friday the 13th, her favorite day besides Halloween. On this day, she always felt lucky and drawn to supernatural things. She had that witchy vibe she always seemed to carry. It drew people in. She had a way with others, even if she was a nervous wreck at times.
Tonight, she felt brave. She felt like she could take anything on. The quarry was said to be haunted, and that there might be some masked dude wandering around. All Ollie could do was laugh at herself as she got closer to the fire. In her hands, she held marshmallows and candy to make s’mores. She might as well have a good time, right?
Her hair was now dyed black. She wore a flannel shirt, ripped black jeans with chains hanging down, and black boots as her footwear of choice. The glow of the fire lit up her face as she finally got closer, feeling her body grow warmer. She set down the lawn chair that was in her other hand and sat. The fire crackled to life as she stared into it for a long while, the night sounds around her coming alive.
A branch cracked in the distance, and Ollie turned her head.
“Whoever is out there, come out. You can’t scare me, you know. Besides, who else started this fire? It’s me, Ollie, from school,” she said, shaking her head as she leaned back in the chair, her boot scraping against the dirt.
Ollie was one of those people who loved chaos and superstitious things; for some reason, they intrigued her. The only fear she ever felt was when the echoes tried to pull her in. She knew she couldn’t hide forever and that she would eventually fall under the echoes’ control soon enough.
Tonight was the night she could let go, relax, and not worry about anything at all. Besides, whoever was out here must have wanted her to show up. But where were they? Were they the one hiding in the trees, or were they her friends trying to prank her?
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The note starts in third‑period and spreads like wildfire. By lunch, everyone’s seen it or pretends they have. It’s soft at the edges from too many hands, covered in doodles, warnings, and different handwriting styles.
You catch glimpses of it everywhere; slipped under trays, shoved into lockers, traded between friends like contraband. Some kids laugh it off. Some look uneasy.
Teachers keep trying to confiscate it, but every time one disappears, another version pops up.
By the final bell, the whole school knows there’s a bonfire tonight, there are rules, and no one can remember who wrote the first note.
bonfire. at the quarry. tonight.
On Friday the 13th, of course.
No adults. No rules. Just one last chance to blow off steam before the next wave of responsibilities, secrets, or supernatural nonsense hits.
The fire crackles. Someone’s telling a ghost story. Someone else is trying to impress their crush with a questionable dare.
The night is warm, but every so often a cold breeze rolls through like something exhaled from the treeline. Pay phones glitch. Radios pick up static. A few swear they see movement on the cliffside, but when they look again, nothing’s there.
Just the dark and the feeling that tonight is the kind of night where anything could happen.
LOCATION:
The bonfire is held at Black Pine Quarry, a half‑abandoned pit on the edge of town where teens go when they want to feel older, braver, or stupider. The ground is uneven, the air smells like sap and smoke, and the cliffs catch the firelight in jagged flashes. Someone dragged in a dented cooler, a busted lawn chair, and a boombox that only plays two stations: classic rock and static.
PARTICIPATION:
Post starters tagged #sterpbonfire and mention the starter blog for the list.
The bonfire takes place ON Friday the 13th, but you can take as long as you need writing your interactions. There’s no rush. Play at your own pace and enjoy the chaos.
This event is about tension, foreshadowing, and character dynamics.
Characters can: (not limited to)
Dress in casual, cozy, and bonfire‑proof: flannels, denim, varsity jackets, band tees, boots or sneakers.
Bring blankets, backpacks, snacks, flashlights, radios, or whatever they’d realistically haul to a late‑night hangout.
Hang out, flirt, fight, gossip, or bond
Share secrets or summer stories
Experience small eerie moments (lights flicker, strange sounds, déjà vu)
Get into harmless trouble
Have heartfelt or dramatic conversations
IT'S FRIDAY THE 13TH
Kids and teens show up joking about bad luck, but everyone’s a little jumpier than usual. Someone refuses to step on cracks. Someone else keeps knocking on wood. A few kids swear the quarry is “extra cursed today.”
The Fire Misbehaves
Sparks fly higher than they should
The flames gutter when certain people walk by
The fire pops in a way that sounds like a word
The Setting Feels Off
The quarry is a little too quiet.
The woods feel a little too close.
Even the moon looks wrong — too bright, too sharp, too watchful.
Characters Bring Their Own Superstitions
Someone wears a “lucky” jacket
Someone refuses to sit directly by the fire
Someone brings a charm or talisman
Someone jokes about summoning something… until the wind picks up
Small, Harmless Bad Luck Moments
A flashlight dies the moment it’s switched on
A drink spills for no reason
A radio station cuts to static mid‑song
Someone’s phone glitches and shows the wrong time
Echoes Weirdness
Shadows stretch a little too long
Someone hears footsteps behind them, but no one’s there
A character gets déjà vu so strong it makes them dizzy
