Murdered by their bus driver

July 30, 2026

by Cole

3 min read

Story Premise 3 min read (513 words)

"In the quiet countryside of Maplewood, there lies a stretch of road known as Scout Trail. For over two decades, it has been shrouded in eerie legends. Some say a troop of Boy Scouts on a camping trip were murdered by their bus driver on this isolated road. Others claim the troop mysteriously vanished, never […]"

In the quiet countryside of Maplewood, there lies a stretch of road known as Scout Trail. For over two decades, it has been shrouded in eerie legends. Some say a troop of Boy Scouts on a camping trip were murdered by their bus driver on this isolated road. Others claim the troop mysteriously vanished, never to be seen again. Another story tells of a tragic fire caused by a dropped lantern that killed the entire troop. Despite these tales, no evidence of missing persons, mass murder, or a fire has ever been found. The road got its name because the Boy Scouts once owned the land and planned to build a camp there, but it never happened.

Now that you know the history, let me share our experience. It was a warm July night in 2005. My friend Erin was visiting our mutual friend Michelle and me in Maplewood. Michelle and I had worked at a Boy Scout Camp that summer, and Erin was to take me back home to Minnesota when the weekend was over. We were bored, so Michelle suggested we investigate Scout Trail. We had read about it in a bookstore the day before, and the story intrigued us. Soon, we were on our way, with me in the backseat, video camera in hand.

As soon as we turned onto the road, we felt uneasy, like we were being watched. We tried to shake off the feeling with jokes, but it lingered. We drove down the road and turned around, but nothing unusual happened. What we saw when we got home was a different story.

Michelle hooked the video camera up to the television and played the footage. At first, it seemed uneventful. Then, right after I coughed, a heavy whispering breath followed. It wasn’t me. We exchanged wide-eyed glances and turned back to the screen. The other two saw a bright ball of light flash by for a split second, but I didn’t.

As we drove back to the main road, I aimed the camera at the rolled-up window, pointing towards the field that was supposed to become a camp. I had the infrared light on, hoping to catch any movement. Nothing moved in the field. Instead, we saw a face pressed against the window. It wasn’t my face. The small screen of the camera didn’t project enough light, and I wasn’t close to the window. When we saw this, we screamed, and Michelle’s mother started yelling at us. We ran to her room and told her what happened. She scolded us but refused to watch the footage.

Another strange thing we noticed: in the rearview mirror, there were two stationary lights in the upper corners. Scout Trail is far from the city, and no car was behind us. The lights didn’t disappear until we were deep into town. We haven’t gone back since, but we’ve shown the tape to others, and they see the same things. I don’t know if Boy Scouts haunt the area, but something does. Living in Maplewood, I’ve come to believe that anything is possible.

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