Alone In The Dark

Deep in the forest, a candle burned in the window of the long-abandoned cabin. Noah stared at the light, transfixed. For the last hour, he had kept an eye on that unblinking beacon, inexorably drawn to it, considering the possibilities.

His family had moved into this house on the edge of civilization three years ago, and one of the first rules to be laid down was: Never go into the woods. Noah had only been seven years old at that time, and now, at the ripe old age of ten, he wondered if that rule still applied.

Surely he could investigate this new anomaly. After all, someone must be there now, and he would just go straight to the cabin, never straying from whatever path must lead there. But there was no need to mention his plans to his parents. They were probably asleep by now anyway. He hadn’t heard a sound from them in over an hour.

Of course, he should be asleep as well. He had tried. He had gone to bed at his usual time and lay down, but then that light had come on in the distance. How was it so far away and still so bright? And who was there tonight, in that cabin that had been deserted for so long? Questions burned in Noah’s mind, and he simply had to know the answers. And there was only one way to find out.

As quietly as possible, he slithered out of bed, changed into new clothes, and slipped on his shoes. He held his breath as he opened his bedroom door, a lie on his lips in anticipation of being caught by his parents on his way. But the house was dark, and silence filled the air.

When he reached the front door of his house, he stopped, reconsidering his decision. It would be dark outside, and he wondered if he should bring a flashlight. But his eyes had already adjusted to the darkness and, he decided, he could see well enough. Plus, the moon was full, so it would be even brighter outside. He didn’t want to risk going into the laundry room just to retrieve a flashlight. Besides, a moving light would just make him stick out more to his parents if they happened to wake up and look outside. Better to do without.

Carefully, he turned the door handle and slowly, slowly, the door inched open on soundless hinges. Shutting the door just as gently behind him, he heaved a sigh of relief. That part, perhaps the most dangerous part of all, was finished. Now all he had to do was make his way over to the gated entrance to the property next door and walk down the path to the cabin. He wouldn’t even have to knock; he could just peek in a window, find out what was going on, and leave without anyone ever even knowing he had been there. He smiled at the idea and set off across his front yard.

The moonlight was as bright as he had hoped it would be, and he made it to the road in front of his house without incident. The highway wasn’t far away, and the county had courteously paved the road to the end of his parent’s property, but the asphalt petered out into a gravel road shortly afterward. The dirt and rocks crunched beneath his feet, the only sound besides the occasional croak of a frog.

Looking around himself and seeing how completely alone he was, he felt a surge of pride. Not long ago, he would have been terrified at the prospect of going out into the darkness; now, he felt exhilarated. He began to hum a tune as he walked, stepping in time to the rhythm. He had walked down this road plenty of times in the daylight, and he knew what to expect.

Five minutes later, he arrived at the gate, its rusty padlock still holding fast against intruders. He wondered for a moment about that, then put his foot on one of the lower rungs of the gate and began to climb. The gate wavered under the weight of his body, clanging gently against the iron posts, but he was a skilled climber, and the movement wasn’t unexpected. Within seconds, he had reached the other side.

For the first time this night, Noah had entered new territory. He looked around and felt a slight sense of trepidation. There was, in fact, a path, but it was overgrown and, he realized, he didn’t see any new tire tracks upon it. Well, he reasoned, perhaps whoever was in the cabin had walked down to it, just like he was doing now. Laughing softly at himself, he soldiered on.

The trees, unkempt and surrounded by undergrowth, loomed over and around him as he walked down the narrow excuse for a road. Thorny vines hung down from the limbs above him, some low enough to graze his hair or face.

He stopped in his tracks when he realized how dark it had become as the moonlight lost its ability to trickle through the leaves and vines above him. His heart began to beat faster, and he glanced around nervously. Perhaps he should turn back. But no, he wouldn’t let childish fears get the better of him. Shaking off his trepidation, Noah gathered his courage and continued down the path.

Suddenly, he heard a sound to his right, moving rapidly toward him. With no weapon to try to defend himself with, he stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet and falling hard, his heart in his throat. Terrified, he could only stare as a huge creature burst through the undergrowth within feet of him. He had just begun to scream when he realized it was only a large buck. It ran across the path, never even looking in his direction.

He remained where he had fallen for a few minutes, waiting for his heartbeat to slow and his breathing to return to normal. After his scare, his senses were on high alert, and he noticed tiny sounds he had been previously unaware of: insects moving in the foliage, faraway owls hooting, and semis rumbling along the distant highway. A soft wind sprang up, and he heard a whisper of some other sound, but he couldn’t identify it. Finally, he rose, chastising himself for overreacting.

With some dismay, Noah began to understand that the path was longer than he had realized it would be. He couldn’t see very far down the path, but he thought he could see the hazy glow of the candle in the distance. It seemed ridiculously far away. He looked back in the direction he had come from, and he could still see, dimly, the moonlight falling on the bright gravel road. The sight comforted him, and the glow of the candle encouraged him, beckoning him to come closer, to put aside his fears.

As he walked onward, he began to hear faint rustling sounds, first behind him and to his left, and then to his right. When he glanced in the direction of the sounds, he saw nothing within the darkness. The rustling seemed to move in time with him, even as he increased his speed.

Soon, he was jogging, then running, and finally desperately sprinting along the faded path, dodging around young saplings that had sprung up along the way and leaping over fallen logs. Nonetheless, the sounds stayed with him, always just behind him and to either side. Finally, the path seemed to split, and he made the instant decision to follow the one that appeared to head toward the light, which now shone much more clearly. As soon as he stepped onto the new path, the rustling stopped.

He ran on for a short distance, then leaned over with his hands on his knees, breathing hard and listening closely once more. Everything sounded as it should. Everything except . . . a muffled whisper . . . almost a word sighing upon the wind. It was somehow familiar. It was almost comforting, in spite of his fear. Distantly, he thought the sound was coming from the light. But no, that was crazy. Lights don’t make sounds like that. Nevertheless, he took a halting step forward.

After the first step, the next ones came more easily, and soon he was walking at a decent pace again. A few minutes later, he began to wonder if the rustling sounds had even been there at all. Perhaps they had only been the result of an overactive imagination. His confidence returned more with every step. The light was noticeably brighter now, and he wondered again how it could be so large. After all, it was only a candle, surely.

Without warning, the whispered word crystallized in his mind. Noah. It was saying Noah. Cold fear clenched his heart, and he stopped in shock. Even as he did, the light seemed to grow while simultaneously rushing toward him. The light surrounded him and within it, a ghostly young girl appeared, her face pale and afraid. Her mouth moved to form a single word that reverberated within his mind long after he sprinted into the dark, running for his life.

He had become the wild animal now, rushing headlong through the brush, thrashing his way through the walls of vines, dodging and weaving among the trees and fallen logs. More than once, he tripped, but sprung back up almost immediately, putting as much distance between himself and that terrible light as he could in as short of a time as his small body could manage. His mind raced with fear, crowding out all conscious thought.

An interminable time later, he burst out of the undergrowth, the once-deserted cabin looming unexpectedly before him. He stumbled to a halt, registering as he did, a small candle burning in the window. The trees were still mostly cleared around the cabin itself, and the moonlight lit the area. He looked in both directions, but he couldn’t see the correct path from where he was. He turned to the right and ran, hoping against hope that he had chosen correctly. He sprinted around the corner and directly into . . . someone. They both fell, off balance from the startling collision, and Noah heard the stranger emit a very familiar grunt.

“Dad!” he shrieked, somewhere between terror and relief.

“Noah?” his father asked. “What the hell are you doing here? Why aren’t you in bed?”

“Come on!” Noah shouted, fear overcoming him once more as he realized that the danger was still near. “There’s something in the woods!”

At that moment, his mother walked out of the cabin, a mimosa in her hand. “What is going on out here?” she asked. “Noah? What are you doing here?”

“There’s no time!” Noah insisted. “Please, can we go home? Please?”

Looking at his son’s desperate, terrified face, his father tried to reassure him. “Okay, Noah, it’s alright. We can all go home and have a talk about everything. We were going to tell you soon anyway, and you’re going to have to explain what you were doing out here at this time of night, and without permission, but for now, we’ll just go home.”

His wife nodded her agreement, and the trio made their way to the four-wheeler parked at the back of the cabin. Noah felt relieved to see a third path there, and that they would not be going back toward the mysterious light. His mother sat in the back with him on their way home, and he finally felt safe with his head on her shoulder. After a short time, they arrived at a gate he had never noticed before, which opened to the back field behind their house.

“When did this gate get here?” he asked, with some trepidation.

“We only had it installed the other day, while you were at school,” his mother replied. “We were saving the cabin for a summer surprise, but I guess now you know. We bought the whole property, and your father and I had gone over there to celebrate our new ownership of it for the first time after you went to bed.”

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Later that night, as they were preparing for bed, Noah’s mother said to his father, “Do you think Noah actually saw anything in the woods?”

His father smiled softly. “I think he believes he did. He’s always had such an amazingly overactive imagination. I’m just glad he didn’t hurt himself worse than he did, running around on that property like that.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, “just some scratches and a sprained ankle. He’ll be fine in a few days.” Comforted, she smiled and turned off the light, snuggling up beside her husband’s warm body.

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Deep in the woods, a light glowed softly and the wind whispered, Noah. A young child’s laughter drifted through the trees. They could wait. After all, there would be other nights. And other children, too.

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed the read. I'd love to hear what you think, so please feel free to leave a comment, click the heart, and subscribe for free!