Don't Go Into The Woods Today,

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window.

Now, I know, a candle in the window, why is that even worth mentioning? There could be a completely benign reason for it: kids mucking around doing the carefree things kids do, or maybe a couple sneaking away from everyone for some quiet time alone.

What if I told you the cabin had been abandoned because of things that had happened there? What if I told you, it was haunted?

Bah, I hear you say? There’s no such thing as ghosts, you say?

Hmmm. You may be right.

Maybe there is no such thing as ghosts.

Too bad if you are wrong. Just because you don’t believe in something doesn’t make it any less real .....

One beautiful summer, just like this one, two kids played chase in the woods around the cabin while their parents watched sipping cold iced tea and generally enjoying life. Hiking, swinging from a rope into the swimming hole, burgers on the grill and roasting marshmallows by the fire. Life couldn’t get much better.

But it could get worse.

The girls LOVED to swim. For the first few days of that summer, the weather was perfect and most of their time was spent at the swimming hole. But the rains moved in at the end of the first week turning the creek into a torrent. When the rain cleared the girls were keen to get back to the water. After days inside playing hide and seek, nothing else could distract them. Dad would walk down the trail through the trees to the creek and check the water. Everyday he returned to deliver the bad news. The water was still too high, still too dirty, still too fast for the girls to swim. Day by day, disappointment grew until the eldest sister had the best idea. That day, if Dad came back and told them the water was not safe, they would sneak out and see for themselves. As she expected, he came back from his walk to tell the girls it was too dangerous to swim.

While their parents thought they were playing hide-and-seek again, the girls snuck away from the house.

Neither was seen again.

Everyone has a theory on what happened to them. Drowned, their little bodies washed away by the fast running water is the most common story told. There are problems with that story though that people quietly whispered to each other. If the girls were washed away and drowned, why did the search parties never find the bodies?

There were no leads in the police investigation. A rumours circulated as they do in small communities. One was that the dad had murdered the girls, planning to frame his wife for the heinous crime so he could divorce her, keep his money and be free to marry his much younger Mistress. Despite being a modus operandi we’ve all heard before, it was not the story most people believed. The rumour whispered by the good people of the town was the mother was not mentally stable. Neighbours and strangers alike discussed how they had heard that she had had a mental episode and killed the girls herself. Worried about his business reputation, the father had hidden their bodies. No one knew for sure, but they all had theories.

The girls had been buried deep in the woods on one of the difficult trails that fewer people used. Or maybe he took them to the lake and weighed them down under the water. Perhaps the police had simply missed them and the little girls were buried in the garden under the bushes or in the basement.

After being questioned by the police, the parents left for their city home. Within weeks, when the police tape had come down, the mother was back at the cabin in the woods. The news of her return spread quickly through the town. It didn't take long for gossip to start, the favourite item to talk about being that every day from dawn to dusk, she walked the paths through the woods calling out for the girls. As evening fell, she stood on the porch of the cabin, calling out for them to come inside. At night, she lit a candle in the window so the girls could find their way home in the dark.

For awhile she was left alone to do her thing, calling for her daughters. As much as possible, the townspeople avoided her. But kids will be kids and teens from the town started daring each other to taunt the woman. When she called out to her girls, the teens would call back: Mama! It’s dark here, come help us!, It’s so cold, why is it so cold?!, Mama, come play with us! We miss you!, so that they could watch her cry and scream, running through the woods trying to chase after the voices while they laughed at her.

For months this went on, her searching, the teens taunting and tormenting, using her agitation as a sport. It became a game to see who could break her down into a blubbering mess or agitate her to the stage on incoherent screaming. If the adults of the town knew about it, they did nothing.

Until their bit of fun turned deadly.

It started as it often did. She stood on the porch, calling to the girls as darkness grew. The candle was already lit, sitting in the window, lighting the way home. The group of teens gathered, but later than usual. Not satisfied with just trying to taunt the crazy woman, her regular tormentor wanted to scare his friends too. Night would be the perfect time and the woods would be perfect setting for the prank to end all pranks. Everything went as it usually did, they called out and the crazed lady gave chase. The path to the swimming hole was dark, perfect for his plan. He ran ahead of the others, being familiar with the path. Almost at the end where the path opened up to the water hole, he heard voices in the dark.

Why are you hurting her? You are a bad, BAD person. We don’t want to play with you!

He slowed for a moment, thinking one of his friends had gotten to the swimming hole first to turn the prank on him instead. “Very funny guys! You got me!” he called to his friends. The last light of the dying sun reflected off the water not too far away. Between him and end of the path stood 2 people holding hands.

It’s not funny! We DONT like you!

They were shorter than his friends, too little to be his friends he thought as rest of the group of teens came to a skidding stop behind him with a chorus of "She’s right behind us!”, “That’s not funny Tom!”, “We've got to move, we don’t want crazy mamma to catch us, she might hide our bodies too!” before the shadowy figures spoke again.

We know you all. You are ALL bad kids. We will make you pay for hurting Mama!

Laughter from the other boys. “C’mon Tom, that’s lame!” “Is that supposed to be scary?!”. Tom, the colour draining from his face, responded, “It’s not me”. A sound, low at first but getting louder, screeching like finger nails on a chalkboard emanated from the 2 figures. The girls covering their ears, squealed. "Tom, stop it, you win!”.

Suddenly, the shadows dashed forward, the screeching reaching ear splitting volume. Boys and girls alike screamed and ran back the way they had come, running head long into the woman they had come to taunt. Knocking her to the side, they ran as fast as they could to get away.

Tom did not make it that far. Hands wrapped around his ankles, fingernails digging into his flesh and drawing blood. One of the boys at the back of the fleeing group turned back to see Tom being dragged backwards by his bloodied legs towards the swimming hole. His friend, finding courage to help, grabbed his hand to pull back. A little girl he would swear later had not been there before flew at his face and raked long sharp fingernails down his face, ripping skin from his hairline all the way to his neck. He let go scrambling backwards from the thing, wiping blood from his eyes so he could see.

Opening his eyes again he realised someone stood beside him. The crazy killer mother. He scrambled back further scraping his palms on the sharp rocks. She watched as the screaming Tom was dragged faster and faster towards the water hole. Slowly, she turned her gaze towards Tom’s friend. “You should go. The girls are very angry now. You kids have upset them very much. I’ll try to calm them.” She looked at him a moment longer before calmly following the trial gouged in the rocky soil by Tom’s fingers and splattered with blood towards the water and the thrashing and tearing sounds. Tom’s screams cut off into a wet gurgling.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Sounds of tearing and girlish giggles chased him down the trail, away from the swimming hole, away from the mother, away from the demon girls. Away from the candle in the window. Away from the horror.

When the authorities got to the scene of the watering hole, they found something straight out of a horror movie, enough to make seasoned officers lose their roast dinners. Blood dripped from the late autumn leaves. A sight lay beneath the trees that the mind shied away from. Chunks of something no one wanted to identify lay around like discarded children’s toys. In the middle of harsh light emanating from the portable spotlights, a woman floated face down, the skirts of her light coloured dress trailing out.

In the end, the official report was that Tom had been attacked by a wild animal, though what the animal was, no expert was able to decide. Though it was suspected it may have been the same one that took the two little girls. Stories grew around town of ravenous wolves or rouge bears. The stories told by his friends, of being chased by ghoulish little girls, were dismissed as being flights of fancy created in the emotional minds of a group of teenagers experiencing PTSD at seeing their friend attacked and brutally killed.

Sadly, according to the report, the mother must have stumbled on the sight of the slaughtered boy and already being in a delicate frame of mind, was unable to cope, drowned herself in the water hole her own precious daughters were rumoured to have met their end in. The cabin was abandoned. Never able to sell it, the father left it to become a ruin.

Of course, the teens knew better than to believe the report. They never ventured into the woods again. In time though, a new generation of teens crept into the woods, looking for a good scare. Some claim to see a woman and 2 little girls wandering the woods, playing hide and seek. Some say they have heard voices.

You don’t belong here. Leave us alone! We know how to deal with people like you.

All agree. If you see a candle lit in the window of the cabin, turn, walk quickly away. Don’t run. You don’t want to fall in these woods. You don’t want to meet whom ever lit that candle.