Witching Hour

The car trudged along the dusty road.

"Are we on the right path?" she questioned.

"I'm not sure, check the map," I replied.

She clumsily unfolded the large paper square.

"I still don't understand why we can't use the GPS."

"I don't want some company tracking our every move. My data is precious to me."

"Did you forget to charge your phone again?"

"I forgot to charge my phone."

She returned her attention to the map just as I abruptly hit the brakes.

"What's wrong?" she exclaimed.

"Look."

A black cat sat in the middle of the road.

"Why did you stop?"

"I didn't want to run over the cat."

"I'm sure it will move."

"That's what worries me. It's bad luck."

"You're being ridiculous. Just go around."

I cautiously maneuvered the car around the cat, but its intense stare sent shivers down my spine.

"I think that's it," she said, pointing to a little cabin nestled in the woods.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," she confirmed, pointing at her phone. After fifteen minutes of aimless wandering in the wilderness, I decided to abandon my old-fashioned methods.

We grabbed our bags and entered the cabin, only to find the same black cat from earlier.

"How did it get in here?" she asked.

"Maybe it belongs to a neighbor. Did the host mention a cat?"

"No."

Without a word, the cat leaped off the kitchen table and disappeared through the door.

"That was odd," she remarked.

"Indeed."

"Maybe you should lock the door."

"I'll do just that."

Before we could settle in, we both heard a scream from outside. As far as we knew, there was no one around for miles.

We hurried outside, but there was no one to be seen. I called out and searched the surroundings, but to no avail.

When I opened the cabin door, I was startled to find the same cat inside.

"Did you leave the door open?" she asked.

"No, I did not."

Once again, the cat slyly exited the cabin.

We locked the door and kept the lights on until late into the night. Finally, we fell asleep well past midnight.

I was awakened by her screams.

"What happened?" I asked, rushing out of the bedroom partially dressed.

"Look."

I could understand her fear. Our belongings had been taken from our suitcase and neatly folded on the kitchen table.

"Oh god," she whispered, "someone was in our room."

"Let's get out of here," I urged.

We hastily packed our belongings into the suitcase and hurried towards the door.

But the door wouldn't open. It remained stubbornly shut, as if magically sealed.

Even the side door refused to budge.

Laughter echoed from outside.

I peered through the window, but all I could see was an eerie fog.

Then, the door handle began to jiggle.

We stayed in the living room for two days, listening to the occasional sounds of footsteps and the unsettling laughter that echoed through the house.

During the night, the windows were engulfed in darkness, yet we knew she was there. In the morning, we would see the faint imprint of her face on the foggy glass.

Finally, on the third day, the door simply swung open.

We didn't question it. We sprinted to the car and drove away.

We were on the road for hours.

No matter how far I drove, I couldn't find a main road. The same dirt road loomed before us.

Our hearts sank when we spotted a house up ahead.

We had returned to the little cabin.

I heard something behind me, and when I turned, I saw the little black cat once again.

But this time, it was hissing.

Then, I heard footsteps approaching the car.

I didn't dare look, but I could hear that same chilling laughter.

-------------------

Help fund my friend's eye treatment to bring colour back into his world. Even $1 can make a significant difference.

Donate now!