Slap

VOCAL: Campfire Ghost Story

The cabin in the woods has been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Finn Ryder had owned his own cabin now for twelve years, since 1971, and it sat directly across the small lake from the abandoned cabin. On more than one occasion, he has considered buying it, but as the years past and the old cabin deteriorated, he knew that trying to restore it would just be too much, not in just money but also in time.

This area of upstate New York was so remote, most people who had grown up in New York State had never even heard of the town: Undergang. There were not many locals living here as they couldn’t stand the harsh winters, especially as they got older. Finn was only forty-two and started coming to this area with his family when he was just two. His parents had stumbled upon the area after getting lost on their way to Canada and fell in love with it. Each property around the lake stood on at least one acre, leaving lots of room for kids to play, and lots of privacy, for those who wanted it.

Finn grew up as an only child and his parents had since both passed: his father of cancer six years before and his mother of congestive heart failure, just two years before. But up

until both of their deaths, all three of them had kept coming up as a family, with his parents spending about two months there in the summers. When his Dad passed, Finn took a leave of absence from his job as a proofreader, and took his Mom to their cabin for two months. He enjoyed it so much, he considered buying the cabin from his mother and moving there permanently. When she passed a short while later, he inherited the cabin, paid in full, minus the taxes.

So here he was, alone in the family cabin, in the fall of 1983. He was back to proofreading and also working on at least two novels. Finn never really wanted children and had never met the right woman, at least one who also didn’t want children. He enjoyed his quiet life alone, and found most of his excitement in the books and stories he read both for work and for pleasure.

As far as he could remember, the cabin had been empty for at least fifteen years, after old Mr. Aldrich had died. His family hadn’t known the man well, mostly enough to just make small talk and occasionally help each other out with yard work. Since Mr. Aldrich’s death, Finn had never seen anyone else on the property or inside, until now.

The candle was burning in the front window, seemingly on a table. He watched it out of his front window for as long as he could before going to sleep, and never saw a person or even movement. He hoped it wasn’t a group of teenagers or drug addicts, who could turn this wholesome, quiet area upside down if they set up camp and refused to leave. But there wasn’t even a car or a bicycle in the yard, and no sound came from the cabin or it’s property.

Finn began to watch the cabin carefully, and night after night, the same candle was lit in the window. It never seemed to go out, or even shrink in size due to the melting. It stayed the same. He never saw anyone light it, or even move it.

After eight days and nights of watching, Finn’s curiosity got the better of him. He grabbed a flashlight and walked around the lake towards the cabin. The only sound was the crunching of fouling under his feet. When he reached the door, he stopped and listened. Nothing. He listened for at least twenty minutes and didn’t hear one sound, not even the creak of a loose board. Finn’s heart began to palpitate and he found himself scared, but he didn’t know why. He finally mustered the strength to knock, three sharp, loud raps on the door. After another five minutes with no response, he tried the doorknob and to his surprise, it was unlocked and the door slowly swung open.

He saw nothing but the candle, burning on an old table. He approached the candle carefully, as if the object itself may jump to life and attack him. As he stood at the table watching the flickering flame, something grabbed his left ankle. No, not grabbed - bit. Hard. To Finn the pain felt as though two thick needles had been shoved into his skin on awkward angels. When he yanked his leg back, something held to it, strong. He looked down to see a small child, of no more than two, naked, with her mouth affixed to his ankle and sucking. Her two tiny hands held fast to his pants, and when she looked up at him, her eyes were black, completely black, even the sclera.

Blood was running down Finn’s foot into his shoe and onto the floor. The pain was unbearable but he didn’t want to hurt this child. He tried to push her off by her shoulders but she didn’t budge and seemed to sink her teeth in even harder. Shaking his leg didn’t work either and when the pain became every sharper, Finn instinctively used his right foot to kick her in the face. The first blow did nothing and as panic set in and his adrenaline raced, Finn kicked her in the face as hard as he could and she let go. She stopped right where she was and smiled at him, the most awful smile, dripping with blood, and Finn could see two long, thin fangs protruding from her upper jaw.

He was so taken aback he couldn’t think of what to do next when the child thing crawled under the table at an incredible speed. When she crawled, her hands and knees slapped the wood floors with a loud scurrying noise, like that of a rat. As Finn backed up, he dropped his flashlight and he could hear the child thing hastily move about in the darkness. The slapping slapping slapping of her hands and knees was so odd and so terrifying, Finn found himself turning towards the door and hoping she wasn’t there. Leaving his flashlight behind, he threw the door open and ran. When he reached his own cabin he locked the front door and the back, drew all the curtains and watched from the corner of his front window. In the darkness it would be hard to see anything, but a naked child crawling (slapping) through the tall grass might still be visible.

Finn tried to process what had just happened. How is this child thing alone in a cabin? Who lit the candle? What the hell was she? Is she truly a monster or some sort of feral child with unique features due to some strange birth defects? His ankle was bleeding heavily now and he went about trying to stop the flow. He went to his bathroom and started removing bandages and peroxide from a cabinet when he heard it….the slapping on the roof, so fast, and scurrying. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. It wasn’t possible. It’s a baby for Christ’s sake. The noise has to be a coincidence, a possum or raccoon. But then he heard a thud come from the fireplace. Something had fallen in from the roof. He ran out and when he looked, all he saw was the coals and ash had been blown from the fireplace to the living room floor. He looked all around and didn’t see anything moving, but then heard it. That awful slapping slapping slapping, moving around the perimeter of the room, zigzagging in no particular pattern, so fast. It was here.

In a panic and without thinking, Finn ran upstairs. Before he reached his bedroom door, he heard the slapping up the stairs behind him. The pain in his leg was unbearable and was now bleeding profusely from the frenzy. The child thing latched into his ankle again and was not only sucking, but now biting. It tore a fleshy chunk out of Finn’s calf and he screamed like he never had before. He was on his stomach trying to shake the thing off and couldn’t flip himself over. In an effort to at least stand up, Finn fell backwards down the stairs and crashed at the bottom on his back. His head was bent against the wall at an obscene angel and he could feel the warm ooze of more blood leaving his body from a fresh head wound. The thing had let go of his ankle and was now perched on his chest like a bat. She was covered in black soot which stuck to every part of her that was covered in Finn’s blood, which was most of her. She smiled again. Jesus Fucking Christ that smile….

As Finn lost consciousness, the last thing he remembered was the child thing hugging him about the neck. Only she wasn’t hugging, she was feeding.

Finn awoke some twenty hours later at the bottom of the stairs. He began to think that maybe the whole thing had just been an awful nightmare, but he was covered in blood. As he tried to right himself, he was able to stand and started looking around for the child thing. He heard no slapping, no movement at all. He went into the bathroom to check the damage to his head in the mirror and when he did, he saw that his eyes were black, entirely black like hers. And then came that awful slapping slapping slapping and the thing was at the door. And she looked at him, and smiled, and said “Papa”.

Finn started work on a new novel. How do you like it so far?