All That Glitters Is Not Gold

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

It had been a long, and exhausting drive into the secluded mountains. I was anxious to finally arrive at the cabin, and take a long, relaxing shower. My colleague at work owned the old, long-lived cabin. Although it had been unoccupied, and unused for quite some time, she assured me that it was still functional, and suitable for a weekend breather.

It was already dark when I pulled in. It seemed as if I had been driving through the woodlands on little more than a forsaken, dirt path for hours. I was filled with pure elation when I saw the candle burning in the window. I suspected that my friend had arrived earlier to light the generator, and air out the cabin.

As I gathered the few possessions that I had towed along, the old, dilapidated porch swing began to sway back and forth with an eerie screech. The sudden trepidation was only temporary. I giggled to myself as a giant horned owl swooped over my head, and glided into the somber trees.

“Well, let’s get this holiday started!” I motioned for Sarge to follow me. I never went anywhere without Sarge; the aging, German Shepard who had been my loyal companion for more than ten years.

Cringing with each creak of the old, warped steps, I made my way to the door, twisting and jerking at every unfamiliar sound. “You’d best go pee now, because once I go to sleep, you won’t get another chance before morning.” I pointed toward the grass. With a hesitant whimper, Sarge padded off into the darkness.

The scritch of tree branches scraping at the windows sent a dreadful feeling washing over me. I decided to sit down on the steps, and wait for Sarge before entering the cabin.

Minutes passed, and I decided to go look for my furry friend. Although his health was slowly declining, he always returned within a reasonable amount of time.

As I entered the dark tree line cold, dewy leaves were sliding across my skin like wet tongues. “Sarge!” I called out, but there was only silence. Slipping on wet leaves, and tripping on bumpy roots I struggled to see through the darkness.

Back in the shadows, branches thrashed and snapped as Sarge growled, and yawped. Heart slamming against my ribs, I gulped at the air, trying to slow my breathing enough to hear. Cobwebs clung to my face as I pushed through the thorns, and shrubs slicing into my skin like tiny knives.

Salty tears trickled down my cheeks as I desperately called out his name over, and over. I could feel the scalding blood cascading down my arms as I fought my way through the threatening darkness.

“Sarge! Please answer me!” I cried. Suddenly I heard a lethargic bark come from the cabin. It was Sarge curiously watching me flounder through the gloaming shadows. I quickly made my way through the somber trees, following the quaint glow of candlelight. “You scared me to death!” I scolded, as a jolt of anger quaked through my body. His wide, inquisitive eyes caused a forgiving smile to curl up on my face. “Very funny!” I sighed, fumbling through my pockets for the key.

As I pushed open the front door, the malodorous scent of wet wood, and mildew invaded my lungs; I coughed, and gagged as the dank stench closed in all around me. Sarge watched cautiously from the doorway, refusing to enter the cabin.

I frantically searched for a light switch, but there was no electricity. The only illumination, and warmth came from that mysterious candle still shimmering in the window.

Timelessly preserved, mounted animals glared down from the walls, as if they were pondering my every move. Suddenly a broken, disintegrated dining room chair jolted back, and tilted toward me, hauntingly, free-floating in the rancid air. An ill-mannered invitation by an invisible host.

The feeling of light-headedness, and nausea swept through me. I could feel the hair rising on my arms, and the back of my neck. It was at this exact moment that I felt a phantom hand on my shoulder, and a puff of revolting breath on my earlobe. I was not alone, and I was certain that my company was filled with an ungodly evil that I could not possibly decode or understand.

I felt the bitter chills, I was uncontrollably shivering. I could see my breath puffing out before me. My legs began to tremble, unable to hold the weight of my body.

The echo of movement from within the walls caused Sarge to howl, and bleat loudly, his dissatisfaction reverberated throughout the cabin. Every movement made the cabin threaten to collapse on top of me. It was all I could do to not hurl myself back through the front door.

I quickly grabbed Sarge’s collar, and rushed outside, frenetically running to the car. The forest seemed to be alive, breathing, and closing in around us. As we sped back down the spasmodic, uneven path, timber was falling all around, striving to isolate us in the darkness. It felt as if time had decelerated, moving in slow motion as we battled our way out of the horrifying peaks.

The following Monday, I entered the office, still bruised, battered, and bleary. “How was your get away?” my friend asked with a concerned, and worried expression. I gently laid the rusty, iron key on her desk, speaking not a word. There were no words for what I had recently experienced. No way to demonstrate the sheer horror that I had perceived.

We never discussed what happened at the cabin. I have kept the anguish concealed deep within my own mind, unshared, and untold. Sarge died the very next day. I suppose that the atrocity was far too much for his senescent heart.

That was twenty years ago, and I still tremble in fear when I see a candle burning in a window. I am also positively certain that I will never step foot back into another mountain.

Have you ever heard the expression “All that glitters is not gold"? That’s because sometimes it’s pure, unadulterated evil!