The Cabin in the Woods

Helena's dilemma.

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

Helena saw the light in the distance and felt a sigh of relief after walking for so long. She found herself lost in the eerie woods. All around her was a deathly silence. Her back pack weighed on her strained body. So she stopped, dropped it on the floor and shrugged her aching shoulders. The night had turned chilly. She took out her combat trousers and jacket and put them on over her shorts and tee shirt to keep warm. Moments later, she headed toward the light, hoping to be invited to shelter for the night. She trudged on through the bracken and bramble undergrowth, often getting her feet snagged. The light seemed to flicker on and off as the branches masked its view. Then the light disappeared for good. Helena surmised the occupants had gone to bed. It was late, and the sun had set, but the moon offered some light as it appeared in intervals through a black, cloudy sky. Helena heard footsteps and heavy breathing. She turned, but no one was there. She quickened her tired legs and headed toward the spent light. Terrified, she fought on, tripping and scrambling back to her feet. She ran in a frantic mood. In the distance, the cabin appeared and Helena rushed towards it with the footsteps and heavy breathing hot on her heals. When reaching the forlorn old cabin, she banged in haste on the dry, splintered door. No one replied. She banged some more. The door creaked open. Helena stood there in the doorway, looking into the uninviting blackness of the interior of the cabin. With some reluctance, she entered...

Jimmy's story

After walking for a while, I found a bench someway outside the village. I slumped down on it with my arms outstretched, hanging over the top rail, looking up at the starry sky. My head started spinning as I closed my eyes. The drink had taken its toll, and I dozed. 

I awoke several hours later and lit up a cigarette, clasping my hand around my lighter to stop the flame from dancing. I’d sobered up by this time and looked around, but couldn`t get my bearings. The darkness has crept up on me and the night turned bitter. I headed towards the village to catch a bus but realized I was going in the wrong direction. Now I`m in the middle of nowhere and lost. I carried on walking, but nothing looked familiar. The road ran through a tunnel of trees, creating thick darkness. I looked around and carried on, hoping to find the village nearby. I don`t favor the dark at the best of times, and the silence became eerie. That soon changed, though. Footsteps followed me. They startled me at first, but I felt relieved to have company. The footsteps crept behind me like an invisible stalker, edging nearer and nearer. When I turned around, to my surprise, no one was there. A shiver ran down my spine. The damp, chilly air formed my breath into fog on exhaling. I kept going quicker this time. I now felt alert and sober. Then that haunting sound again; the footsteps were back. I turned; my whole body tingled with fright. Still nothing visible. The footsteps stopped when I stopped, but now, I caught slow, deep breathing. An icy breath numbed my neck. Goose bumps covered my skin. I hurried along, running through the tunnel of trees overhanging the road. Like a giant throat swallowing me. This one had no end in sight. I kept moving along the country road, looking behind every so often to make sure nothing was following me. I saw no one, but I felt a presence and the footsteps...

Through the woods a light glistened, so I left the road and made towards it, fighting my way through brambles and thicket. The surrounding trees had bare, twisted branches like old men’s arms reaching out to grab me. The light disappeared and reappeared as the branches kept obscuring my view. I came to a grassy path winding its way through the trees towards the dim light. I followed it, but after a short while, the flickering disappeared. The residents have turned in for the night; I thought. The path started up again, the same one I followed earlier. I wanted dawn to break, but I knew it wouldn't. Why couldn`t I have stayed at that boring party? At least I’d be home by now, tucked up in bed, fast asleep. If the drink got to me earlier, it didn’t anymore, only tiredness and worry. My imagination ran wild. Everything went quiet again. Not a sound. Did those things happen or did I imagine them? And did I also imagine the light?

For a moment I stood, looking. Where am I? I asked myself but carried on walking along the grassy path. The ghostly footsteps crept behind, this time quieter but audible, and listening to them walk through the soft grass was unnerving. I reached the same conclusion when I turned. Nothing was visible. Time to quicken my step again. In the distance, I spotted a wooden shack materializing and so I ran. The footsteps ran behind me, and the heavy breathing. became clearer. I was breathing heavily also, from running and from fear. My heart thumped inside my chest, trying to burst out.

Varnish pealed from the weathered cabin door. I hammered on the woodwork with tight knuckles. No one came, so I hammered again, skinning my fingers on the rough wood. As I looked behind, everything went quiet again. Peering in the window, I couldn`t make much out through the dirty glass and torn net curtains. A kitchen sink covered in dirt and dry leaves. The floor has a rope on it. I tried the door in desperation and found it unlocked. The flame clicked awake from my lighter, a makeshift torch to survey my surroundings. I picked up this old newspaper off the dusty floor and set it alight before throwing it into the fireplace, and putting on more to keep the light going. I added twigs and sticks to the paper. After the kindling caught hold, I put on the logs from the side of the fireplace. The warmth and light brought comfort. 

With a trembling hand, I rubbed the glass pane in the room window. Then I peered into the black woods. I knew something lurked in the darkness, something strange and eerie.

The cabin had an old threadbare armchair near the fireplace. A small table and chair on an adjacent wall with a candle on the edge hugging the window. A large cracked mirror hung over the mantle piece, with small shards missing. The place looked derelict. I thought that the light couldn't have come from here. I brushed the dusty armchair seat with my hand, and after pulling it closer to the fire, rested my trembling body. The colored flames made shadows around the room and along the ceiling. The wood crackled and spit, keeping me company. I kept the fire burning to drive away the damp air, the dark, and the silence. My tired eyes fought against my will and almost won. I had company, though. The heavy breathing again. Something had followed me into the cabin. I jumped out of my chair and checked my surroundings. The flames from the fire made the shadows dance. 

Something controlled my will. I`m trapped and powerless. A long-drawn-out moan ordered me to the kitchen. The spirit commanded too much power over me to fight. It headed me towards the kitchen; my face contorted with fear. On passing the mirror, I glimpsed a reflection, a girl hanging from a ceiling beam. A tall, slim woman, wearing combat gear and her neck covered in lumps. Her eyeballs bulged out and her mouth was agape with a swollen tongue protruding. I crept around the kitchen, trying with desperation to break free. The power upon me was so forceful. Just then someone or something appeared out of the dark, standing in the room's corner, a rough-looking figure of a man with a black beard and black untidy shoulder-length hair. A thick rope hung from his hand and, with a sinister smile on his face, he groaned. A notion came to me. The sensation reminded me of that sleep state when trying to awake, but cannot move. I concentrated on blanking out negative thoughts from my mind to free myself of this vile hold this hideous beast had on me. I succeeded and turned around in haste, expecting to confront the hanging corpse. It was gone. An icy shiver ran down my back. Again I looked in the mirror. Nothing reflected either, nothing that shouldn’t have been.

I ran to the door. In desperation, I tripped. Before I got back up, the evil entity took a tight hold around my ankle. I kicked with my other foot. As I screamed, it dragged me along the floor of the room, leaving a trail in the leaves and dirt. I rolled over and stared at a distorted figure dragging me. I kicked again, but my foot touched nothing solid. The embers on the fire shifted, causing a momentary light to flicker. The dim light showed a grotesque shadow on the ceiling, looking at me. I screamed. This hideous creature was feeding off my fear and I knew I had to muster up the courage to break its hold. So I tried in desperation to clear my mind of negativity once again. It worked. The shadow faded, the creature released my ankle, then disappeared. I jumped to my feet, and ran out the door and along the grass path, through the woods, and onto a tarmac road. Footsteps followed me. I ran faster without looking back. The bare trees lingered in the darkness. Whispers echoed through the gnarled branches. I ran and ran as fast as my tired legs allowed.

Lights and houses appeared, a village. I’d reached this safe refuge, so I carried myself along the street until I arrived in the middle of the village. I found a bus shelter to huddle into away from the stiff wind. Footsteps and heavy breathing ceased. That wooded country lane is far behind now. Street lights kept me company till dawn, which I greeted with great relief. 

The newsagents across the road opened. I'm back among the living, I thought. Dusting myself down, I walked across and bought a can of coke and a chocolate bar. Passing the newspaper stand to my right, I noticed the local rag. The headline read: “Young Girl Back Packer Commits Suicide in Desolate Cabin in Woods.” My blood chilled when I read the article. It described a tall, slim girl wearing combat gear. The girl in the mirror.

No one seemed any the wiser, but I know what killed her and it wasn't suicide.

David Marsden.