The Shadow in the Window

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

It was the winter of 1985 in North Michigan, the snow had been falling heavily overnight and surrounded the lake in a pure white blanket, the occasional breeze whipping a light dusting of snow onto Lake Michigan where they sat for a few seconds like white water lily petals.

Silence covered the area on this cold morning...until the growing sound of tires crunching through the snow. Kathleen had one hand on the steering wheel and one was attempting to flatten the map down she had used to navigate to the lakeside cabin she would be staying in for the next few months during the winter season.

As she looked from the map she had now thrown away in defeat, the log cabin came into view in front of her. A two-storey wood and brick structure that sat near to the lakefront, the front door facing towards the nearby woods. Kathleen pulled the car into the driveway and switched the ignition off, as she climbed out in the snow, it came up to just halfway up her shin, luckily she wasn't planning on doing any hiking during her stay here.

Kathleen dragged her luggage into the cabin and began to unpack. As she moved around the upstairs area so, she noticed through one of the rooms, was a view into the nearby woods. Taking a closer look, she spotted a window that would be missed by casual observations even as most of the trees had shed their leaves. She thought it must have been an older cabin as part of the roof that was visible above the window appeared to have collapsed at some point in time.

The rest of the day continued with more unpacking including her typewriter. The main reason she had moved out her in the middle of winter was to finish off a novel she had promised her publisher would have been completed about 4 months ago.

As night fell, Kathleen decided to get an early night so she could get up in the morning ready to begin writing. As she was crossing the upstairs hallway, a small flickering light in the nearby woods caught her attention. Looking at the small light, she went to the window to get a better look. Kathleen noticed that it was coming from the decrepit cabin. The light flickered, almost going out on several occasions. After a minute had passed, the light vanished as it blown out by someone just out of sight. Kathleen mused that is must have been either hikers who were using it for shelter or some local kids looking to try and stay the night in a spooky old cabin on a dare. While not too fused about it, Kathleen double checked she had locked the doors and closed the windows before she retired to bed.

The next day for Kathleen passed uneventfully. She woke up, got dressed, made coffee and sat down at her typewriter as she wrote out chapter after chapter stopping every now and then for a stretch and the odd short walk outside. It was as night fell however and she was heading for bed, that once again, the small flickering light appeared. Kathleen found herself once more, staring out of the window, strangely hypnotized by the small light as it danced in the wind. A minute or so later, the light was out and with it, the strange daze, Kathleen found herself in as she headed to bed, wondering now just who was responsible for it?...

This cycle repeated over the next few days and each time, Kathleen's curiosity grew. She found herself thinking about the light, on one occasion, she had been so distracted by the light that she had written the line, the light in the window of the cabin about 14 times before noticing.

Midway through day 4, Kathleen decided that she could take a break tomorrow, after all she was here for quite a while and one day to explore the nearby woods wouldn't hurt, she may even get inspiration for a new story. It was about mid-morning the next day when Kathleen was out the door and slowly trudging through the shin high snow. The trees in the woods were much larger in person and still managed to make the woods dark despite having no leaves and the sun making a rare appearance in a cloudless sky this morning.

The cabin was more broken down than it appeared from her window. The roof had almost completely caved in. The wooden rafters were exposed like human ribs devoid of their flesh coverings. The structure of the building overall was collapsing in on itself and Kathleen wondered how anyone in their right mind would enter this would be condemned cabin.

A sharp gust of wind tore through her thick winter coat, sending her nerves into overdrive as a chill raced up her spine. The cabin's wooden frames were broken in places, woodworm holes dotted throughout the planks, smashed window panes still held in their frames were coated in a light sprinkling of the winter snow as the wind whistled through.

Somehow the door was intact and appeared almost brand new. Kathleen tugged her coat a little closer around her as she raised her gloved hand to the door. The hinges refused to yield to her attempts to gain access. She noticed as well that they too seemed as if they had only been recently installed as they lacked any form of decay the rest of the cabin was suffering from. Kathleen forced the door a little harder this time, leaning her full weight into the adamant door. After a few groans of bending wood, the hinges relented launching its unwelcome visitor over the threshold and onto the hallway floor with a bang that echoed through the walls.

Kathleen lay on the snow and cobweb covered ground, cursing as she rolled over onto her back, her ribs, knees and elbows throbbing with pain from their impact onto the floor. While her large winter coat had lessened the impact, she knew there would be a few bruises forming over the day.

As she lay on the ground waiting for the pain to subside, she took in the layout of the hallway. The aim of the décor was very minimal and very old fashioned. It was an unusual combination of a scattering of faded 1960's floral wallpapering mixed with a few antique furniture from which century Kathleen was unsure but definitely pre-1800's.

Gingerly Kathleen sat up, wincing as pain shot through her nerves like an static electrical shot. Looking down she noticed her jeans by her left kneecap had been ripped open to show her knee which was now bleeding. The denim fabric was soaking up the blood causing a dark red circle stain to form around the area. Kathleen made a note to put some antiseptic wash onto that after a shower. Getting a infection was not on her to do list this winter.

The silence hit Kathleen first as she managed to get to her feet, favouring her right foot to take the pressure off her bleeding left knee. Despite the chill wind blowing outside, the cabin was unnervingly quiet. Despite the sunlight pouring in from the absence of the roof and the lack of curtains over the windows, most of which was lying in a pile by the stairs, the rooms off to the left and right of her were dark. It seemed as if the cabin was caught in two time zones, the hallway was currently experiencing daytime while the rooms were in a night-time state. The caved in roof had blocked off the stairs, annoying Kathleen as she wanted to try and locate the candle with the room.

Kathleen looked into the small family room on the right, again with old fashioned décor but this time in a 1970's style she did note, perhaps the idea for this cabin was a different decade wallpaper for each room but the antique furniture for the rest? A few chairs and a small table lay covered in cobwebs in the middle of the dimly lit room. Actually, had the room become darker?...Kathleen look quickly into the two rooms on the left, they too seemed darker now, her eyes finding it harder to pull away each time she looked. The slamming of window frames shocked her out of this hypnotic daze she was becoming trapped in, the cold wind raced whistled through the cabin at a screeching pitch, the walls started to look as though they were twisting in on themselves, drawing Kathleen's eyes once more into a spiral daze, was that the sound of wood bending or a rope tightening? Steeling her nerves, Kathleen closed her eyes tightly to escape the bizarre scene now invading her senses. As she opened them, she quickly turned on the spot to face the door, cursing again as she caused more pain to fire through her bleeding knee, she limped towards and out of the open door as quickly as she could. Had she not been in such a rush, she would have spotted the small collection of cobweb covered bags lying just off to the side of the door, all from different decades...

Kathleen could barely remember the slow and painful trudge through the snow back to her cabin. Nor did she remember undressing and climbing into the shower, where she now sat on the floor, the warm water washing away the mixture of cobwebs, dust and blood from her hair and body.

Kathleen's mind was racing as the water washed over her. She knew the wood hadn't really started twisting before her eyes had it? No surely not, it must have been a trick her mind had played on her after she fell through the door. Her head must have smacked into the floor harder than she thought. The stinging sensation in her knee made her think it must have been a side helping of blood loss as well.

Kathleen stayed in the shower until the water had turned cold and she began to shiver. Her mind focused on nothing else that day except the candle and that cabin. There was something hiding within it's walls, she had felt its presence in that hallway, she was sure it had been hiding in the darkness of the rooms as it spread into every corner, with each passing moment, her eyes lingered. It was no trick of her mind. Whatever lurked within that cabin, it taunted her every evening with the candle in the window at night.

As Kathleen woke the next morning, she had to know more about the cabin, the questions her mind were forming with the passing of each second demanded answers. The closest city to her was Traverse City, to the north of her cabin. Asking for directions in a local café, she was pointed to the Central Lake District Library, ordering an extra strength latte, she set off towards the north once more, the temperature dropping with each passing mile.

The librarian pointed her towards a few sections that may have held the key to her burning questions. The first section was a dead ends, Kathleen had doubted that books on architecture would help her. The second section was on the local history of the lake and was where the answers lay.

It came in the form of an execution of a witch on the 16th July 1692 and an obituary written on 20th July 1692...

16th July 1692

Victoria Carver

On the eve of the 16th July 1692, by the shore line of Lake Michigan, a witch was hanged from the rafters of a cabin. The deceased known as Victoria Carver was found guilty of religious heresy, witchcraft and the attempted corruption of her neighbor's daughter Abigail Wheeler via means of a secret language unknown to the colony. Amos, father of Abigail had discovered paraphernalia in Victoria's cabin linked to witchcraft including a candle placed in an upstairs window used in her attempts to corrupt Abigail nightly.

Amos upon discovering the items, lured Victoria to his cabin and after accusing the witch loudly and heard her confession of witchcraft, proceeded to hang her from the rafters until she died. The items were confiscated and burned in accordance with holy scripture methods.

Kathleen's blood ran cold in her veins. She re-read the obituary several times. Could it have been witchcraft she had felt in that cabin? Had the spirit of Victoria Carver that was lingering in the darkness that day and was once again using a candle in an attempt to corrupt souls from beyond the grave? It all seemed to now make sense, the hypnotic daze she had found herself in when watching the candle in the window must have been the result of a spell, enticing her to keep watching so her soul became vulnerable to attack as Victoria sunk her unholy fingers into it.

Kathleen downed a large mouthful of her now mildly warm latte. Rationality kicking in, there were no such things as witches, she mused to herself. Everyone knew about the Salem Witch Trials and how innocent women had been accused of witchcraft and executed. Surely this was the case as well?

Her mind had split into two, one side arguing that it must have all been a trick of the mind, long days sitting at the typewriter had made her imagine the events. The fall she suffered from forcing the door open had caused her vision to warp making it seem like the walls were twisting before her.

The other side couldn't let it go that it must have been the spirit of Victoria Carver taunting her. The flickering candle sending hypnotic messages to her each night. The darkening shadows in the decrepit cabin as the witch's presence grew around her. The tightening feeling of a rope around her throat mimicking how Victoria had met her end...

As Kathleen stood up to leave, she paused. At the bottom of the article, was the start of the next article written four days later and was about Abigail Wheeler. Kathleen sat back down and turned the handle to move the microfilm upwards.

20th July 1692

Abigail Wheeler

Miss Abigail Wheeler, whose death is recorded here today was at the time of passing, 20 year and 4 months of age. Abigail died on the lake near her residence when the boat she was in sprung a leak in the early evening and the water's strong current dragged her down to the bottom. As her body could not be recovered, an empty casket will be buried at St. Michael's Church at 11 o'clock on the morrow.

In the space of a few short days, both Victoria and Abigail were dead. One by hanging and one by drowning...

Kathleen had two choices, the first was to put these thoughts to bed, ghost stories were for children. The second was to find out once and for all, if there was something lurking in that cabin. On the way back from the library, Kathleen stopped off again in Traverse City to grab a few supplies including a candle and a lighter. She barely remembered the journey home, her mind too preoccupied.

Back at the cabin, Kathleen began prepping for that night. She placed her candle and lighter in the upstairs window. She was too nervous to eat so she made another coffee and sat outside on the porch. She had about three hours until the candle in the cabin would start its nightly ritual. She cracked open a small pack of Salem cigarettes, she only smoked now once her novel was finished as a celebratory habit but she made an exception on this night.

The air was cold and it nipped at her but the coffee and cigarettes kept it at bay. After what seemed like an eternity, she checked her watch, it was time to go. She took a last drag before throwing away the stub and tipping out the remnant of the coffee dregs and heading upstairs.

Kathleen kept the room dark, it would be easier for both candles to be seen this way. She looked towards the decrepit cabin in the woods. Like clockwork, the flickering light appeared in the window. Kathleen picked up the lighter and lit her candle. Looking out the window, the flickering light continued its dance before staying still and lit. Deep down in the core of her being, Kathleen knew she had made contact. What she hadn't been expecting was the shadow that moved away from the window. Her blood felt like it froze in her veins. She must have been too preoccupied with the candle to notice the figure behind it. Kathleen left the candle on as she headed down the stairs. She was so close to finding out the truth.

The short crossing to the decrepit cabin seem to take hours as a heavy snowfall had blown in and Kathleen was finding it difficult to wake in a straight line towards the woods. She had to constantly wipe the snow from her face as the wind threatened to push her over into the knee high snow but she persisted onward, nothing was going to stop her.

As she neared the cabin, the snow fall picked up in intensity, Kathleen could only hope she was still heading towards the cabin. Picking up her pace as fast as she could, she reached the door, which once again, refused her entry. With the wind at her back, Kathleen leaned into the door, her back feeling like it was going to be crushed by the wind. She let out a scream into the howling wind as the door relented and she stumbled into the cabin hallway.

The scene that greeted her as she pulled her hood off of her head puzzled Kathleen. The decrepit cabin was now pristine. The wallpaper was missing from the wooden walls. The darkened rooms off to the side were now lit by candlelight and a crackling fire. Kathleen got to her feet, looking back she noticed the heavy snowfall outside had gone and instead of a bleak winter scene, was one of an autumn evening. Kathleen took off her jacket as the heat from the fire was causing her to perspire a bit and placed it on the floor by the front door. Her eyes darted up to the ceiling as the sound of a footsteps moved over her head. Kathleen moved towards the stairs, now free from the wreckage of the roof that had blocked her path during her first visit here.

The door opening behind, caused her to spin around on the spot. A middle aged lady dressed in colonial attire entered the cabin, cautiously looking around as she did. Kathleen knew from the execution article that this must be Victoria Carver. Kathleen was frozen to the spot as Victoria walked towards her and then right through her...Kathleen's body went ice cold, her breath catching in her lungs, her joints aching as Victoria moved through her. There was no other feeling like it and none Kathleen would ever want to experience again. After a few moments, Kathleen's body returned to normalcy and she turned to face the direction Victoria had gone in. Halfway up the stairs, Victoria had stopped, she was mouthing something but no sound was being made. Despite this lack of sound, Kathleen was sure she knew what Victoria was saying...she was calling for Abigail.

Kathleen felt the urge to follow Victoria kick in. As she began to climb the steps, Victoria or the apparition of her continued up the stairs. Kathleen kept back a few steps, while the apparition did not seem to be able to see her, she wasn't taking any chances. At the top of the stairs, Victoria stopped at a closed door once again calling for Abigail as she moved to turn the door handle.

Kathleen followed her into the room, by the window was the candle that had been the source of her obsession. Next to it stood a young lady dressed in an all white nightgown as she stares out the window. Kathleen looks at Victoria and notices her expression has changed to one of concern. As she voices Abigail silently, the young lady turns around, her hands have been bound in front of her and her mouth gagged. Tears streaming down her cheeks as she looks wide eyed in terror towards Victoria. As Victoria moves towards her, Kathleen once again feels an apparition move through her body but this time it feels like she is in the throes of a fever, as her temperature rises, her clothes start to stick to the sweat coming out of her while her vision blurs. Again just as quickly as the first encounter, this one fades after a few moments but leaves Kathleen shaken. As her vision returns to normal, she sees that the second apparition is that of Amos, Abigail's father who has grabbed Victoria by the back of her neck and is silently shouting at her. As Victoria begins to cry and attempts to escape the grip of the father, Abigail rushes forward trying to stop her father. Amos is too strong and easily throws his daughter to the ground with one hand where the back of her head connects with the wall stunning Abigail into a daze.

Amos turns his attention to Victoria as he throws her violently to the floor, her forehead connecting with the wooden structure. Kathleen watches as Victoria slowly crawls towards the stunned Abigail, tears flowing down her face that mix with the blood flowing from a gash on her forehead. In her mind, Kathleen knows what is about to happen. Turning to face the door, Amos is picking up the stretch of rope that has been tied into a noose. He throws it over the rafters above them before returning to the door to pick up a heavy stone to move it over to the window where he ties off the loose end. Kathleen wishes she could intervene as the tears come down her cheek but she knows it would be in vain. Amos pulls out a smaller cut of rope from withing his jacket pocket and kneels down onto Victoria's back as she had been trying to wake Abigail, pining her arms behind her as he ties her hands together. Victoria is dragged to her feet and moved to the noose, her breath catching as Amos tightens the noose around her throat. Amos pulls out a fistful of paper and drops them to the ground by Victoria's feet as he closes his eyes and starts to pray. Kathleen squats down and looks at the letters, they are not filled with heresy, witchcraft or unholy symbols but filled with love that was share by Abigail and Victoria for each other. Kathleen now understood the real cause behind the death of Victoria Carver. Accused of being a witch for falling in love with the neighbour's daughter in a time where such a love was considered to come from the devil. Looking up, she saw that Amos had moved to the window and opened it, the large heavy rock now balancing on the window ledge. There is not enough time to react as Amos pushes the rock out of the window where it hoists Victoria upwards, the sound of the rope tightening around her throat. Kathleen stands up as she watches the life fade from Victoria.

Kathleen reaches upwards to touch the feet of Victoria as she does so, the cabin changes instantly back to it's decrepit self, the cold air snapping at her. Her breath coming out in bursts upwards towards the remaining rafters that had not fallen down over the years. Kathleen turns to look at the window, the apparitions of Amos and Abigail no longer present, only a view through the trees to the lake. On the water was a small rowboat drifting lazily with two occupants. The floorboards underneath her feet creaked as Kathleen moved towards the window. Peering through the broken window, Kathleen watched the rowboat.

It was clear the occupant was the apparition of Amos. He was busy with something in the rowboat just out of sight. Amos knelt down to the side of the boat and reached down. He lifted up the body of Abigail. Wearing the same white dress from the night of Victoria's execution. Her hands were bound as they rested on her stomach. Amos lifted her over the edge of the rowboat and placed her on the water. Another rope was tied to her feet that coiled back into the boat. Abigail's body floated on the water like a water lily as Amos withdrew his hands and reached down again, this time picking up a heavy set rock with the rest of the rope tied around it. He paused to look at his daughter once last time before dropping it into the lake. As the stone fell and the rope followed, it was a few seconds before Abigail's body was pulled below the water into her cold grave until only the fading ripples marked her last sighting on the world before they too faded away leaving the waters still once more.

As the vision faded, Kathleen became aware of a presence behind her. She didn't need to look to know who it was. As she turned slowly round, she could feel her throat tightening. As she came face to face with Victoria's apparition, she noticed that Victoria's hands were behind her back still bound together except they were gaunt, the pale gray skin pulled tight over her bones. Her hair was matted and dirt covered as the breathing coming from Victoria was strained and short as if she was still suffocating. Kathleen didn't move. She didn't even dare to breath even thou her lungs were burning for oxygen. The pressure around her throat increasing with every passing second. Victoria's voice broke the silence that was permeating every fibre of the cabin.

Are you my Abigail?...

Tears flowed down Kathleen's cheek as she struggled to reply against the tightening grip on her throat...

I'm sorry...I'm not...

As she looked at Victoria, Kathleen put her hands to her neck, fear coursing through her body as she felt the noose around it, constricting with each second. As her eyes look upwards towards the rafters her body is now hanging from, her vision begins to blur. Strength leaves her body as her arms fall helplessly by her side. As she looks up through the broken roof to the night sky outside, she tries to keep her eyes from closing as her breath slows down but as her breathing stops, her heavy eyelids close...

Kathleen's eyes snap open as her inhaling breath out sounded like a gunshot blast. She reaches up to her neck, the noose is gone but an outline of the rope is embedded in her skin.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spots them... a small circle of women all dressed in attire from different decades past. Each one of the looking towards the window, the same rope burn mark etched into their necks. Kathleen follows their gaze to the window where Victoria stands facing out towards the lake and the spot where her Abigail lies.

Kathleen drops her arms to her side as she joins the other victims of Victoria's curse as they are damned to witness Victoria waiting in vain for the night when Abigail returns home forever.

As a single tear rolls down Kathleen's check, the candle in the window lights up and begins a hypnotic dance...