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Booked for the Weekend

a little cabin with a lot of secrets

By Michelle CampbellPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 9 min read
6
Booked for the Weekend
Photo by Zach Lezniewicz on Unsplash

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

Jane wasn’t sure why she had lit it. It seemed a bit silly, standing in her nightgown, goosebumps speckling her body underneath, nose pressed to the window in front of her. She couldn’t see. Even if the glow of the flame hadn’t been sending shadows all around her, the light fog that had drifted in over the pond was starting to form little droplets on the glass panes.

The cabin had been her parents’.

_________________________

Melinda and Godfrey Chaunce were a nice enough couple. They played bridge with the old ladies at their church. They occasionally remembered to take their Christmas photos early enough to send out proper cards to family and friends, and they always made a point to attend the annual town picnics that occupied the main square the fourth weekend of July. No one would have ever expected anything out of the ordinary to happen to them. Let alone what took place on the evening of May 2, 2009.

It had been an unexpectedly chilly spring that year in the Dakotas. What usually was the beginning of spring thunderstorms throughout the Midwest had instead been occupied by frequent chances of snow, and as a result, even the Bradford pear trees had refused to bloom, their noxious scent pleasantly absent from the memories of that time. So when Mr. Chaunce suggested they take a trip to get out of town a little earlier than the usual summer vacation, Mrs. Chaunce agreed, quickly finding a listing for a little cabin in upstate Minnesota, who, unlike the Dakotas, was having a warmer spring than usual. The pictures were quaint with an owner’s note accompanying the listing.

“This cozy cabin is nestled in the pines. Water access. My gift to you. –R”

So the two packed up their things for a long weekend, dropped their nine year old off with her grandparents, Melinda’s side, and drove the 8 hours to a cabin outside Duluth.

When they arrived, they found a small cabin resting on a little lot by a pond, reeds whistling in the first few feet of water, with mature pines dotting the area around the house. That afternoon and early evening was spent in lawn chairs, looking glassy-eyed at the water and sipping some wine coolers Mrs. Chaunce had smuggled into her bag, her one vice. Mr. Chaunce took this opportunity to smuggle his own something into the bag, a pair of cigars he planned to enjoy as night fell. But it seems fate had different plans for the couple, and chilly breezes sent both inside well before dark.

This would have been seen as nothing more than a slight inconvenience, if Mrs. Chaunce hadn’t noticed a cup of tea resting on an end table near the recliner in the main room, steam still coming from the dark liquid. Now both had been by the water all afternoon, so the tea made tiny pin picks start on Melinda’s neck and she shivered as she pointed it out to Godfrey. They stood not overly frightened but aware; that is, until a wind chime outside started singing so loudly in the breezes that it brought both out of their stupor.

Mr. Chaunce, accepting that he had most likely made the tea and forgotten, moved instead to the kitchenette, fussing over what would be their dinner. But Mrs. Chaunce, still looking at the cup decided to walk through the cabin, for her sanity. It didn’t take her long, the cabin only having two other rooms, one that held the bed and the bathroom. Both were undisturbed, and as she walked back to the main room she heard her husband chuckling.

“Yes, I think we should.” He was saying as she entered.

“Should what, Godfrey?”

He turned, “Should light a fire like you said.”

She looked at him, a slightly dumb look on her face, “I didn’t say we should light a fire.”

He shook his head slightly as he turned back to food. “Yes you did, just now as I was cutting the potatoes. You said we should get a fire going before the wind turns too cold.”

“I said no such thing. I wasn’t even in the room.” Mrs. Chaunce retorted.

“I think I know the voice of my own wife”

He had returned to his preparations. His wife however, had gone a little white, now noticing a spoon had been placed by the cup of tea on the end table, a small wet spot staining the wood.

She stared at it for a while, her husband’s whistling flowing into her ears. Blue Danube.

“The spoon was probably there when we came in.” She thought. And so, Mrs. Chaunce went to take a shower and let the warm water relieve her brain and eyes and body from the day.

The water was delightfully hot and steam quickly engulfed the room, replacing all brain fog with sweet floral scents. It took a while then, as you might expect, for Mrs. Chaunce to notice a faint smokiness to the lilac and vanilla. And only when she turned off the water, did she hear her husband in the other room, yelling, in no uncertain terms, at her.

“Darn it Melinda, what are you thinking?!”

She exited the bathroom quickly, meeting a half hallway filling with smoke. She rushed to open a window, pulling it free from the sill and releasing the smoke from the room.

“Would it have killed ya,” Godfrey was sputtering, “to check if the darned flue was open before you lit the logs? You could have killed us both.”

Melinda stood still, water dripping on the carpet from her shower.

“Did I say I was going to light a fire?”

Godfrey was now looking at her like she was stupid.

“I saw you start the fire, before you left for your shower. Honestly woman, this is supposed to be a relaxing weekend.”

“I…I…” Melinda was clutching her towel. Was she going insane?

“Its fine, let’s just eat something.” Godfrey huffed.

The meal was good and filling, putting both Melinda and her husband into a nice and calm state. They sat by the fire, wearily staring at the flames.

thump, thump, thump

Melinda lazily turned her head to the hallway and bolted upward when she saw a shadow move across the back opening.

“Godfrey!”

He jerked his head away from the fire, jumping up to match his wife.

“What? What?”

“There’s something in the house!”

Both searched high and low for this something, but at the end of five very long minutes, nothing and no one was found.

Godfrey looked at his wife. Both were shaking a little. Melinda wasn’t one to lie about anything. But Godfrey hadn’t noticed anything strange since they arrived, unless you counted the tea cup. But even that was probably a product of old age. But Melinda seemed spooked, enough that Godfrey did another search of the house and made a call to the local sheriff’s office to ask if there had been any break-ins for the area.

These were enough to convince Melinda that is was okay to remain at the cabin for the night, and both drifted to sleep after brushing teeth and crawling under the quilted bedspread.

thump, thump, thump

Melinda opened her eyes. The cabin was dark and she had to squint to try and see.

thump, thump, thump

Her hand slowly moved to the right of her, tapping Godfrey against the leg under the covers.

“Hmmph?”

“Can you check the house again?”

He got up, didn’t bother with his house shoes and padded into the kitchen. Melinda waited, pulling the covers under her chin.

“Nothing's here. Come on, let’s go back to bed.”

Melinda didn’t breathe. Who was Godfrey talking to?

“Huh? You want some tea? Alright I’ll make it.”

Melinda forced herself out of bed, the mattress creaking slightly under her. she froze for a second but then continued and slowly inched towards the doorway as she heard Godfrey messing with the kettle.

He kept talking—“I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

She tilted her head past the doorframe. CLEAR. She would have to move completely into the hallway if she wanted to see Godfrey in the kitchenette. She toed, slowly. As she began to round the corner, she caught sight of someone standing behind her husband. A person, wearing a light cotton nightdress, not too much unlike her own. A person with brown hair, currently tied into a bun on their head.

She couldn’t’ move. She seemed rooted to the spot. The person turned and Melinda stood horrified as she looked at… herself. The person brought one finger slowly to her lips and shh’d. Godfrey’s head turned and locked eyes with his wife standing frozen in the hallway, his wife also standing right behind him.

“Melinda?”

The woman rounded on Godfrey, silently plunging something into his stomach.

He doubled over and Melinda screamed.

She wasn’t sure how she got outside. But she had somehow gotten through the door and was rushing away from the cabin. The woman was following, not quickly but steadily and Melinda soon found herself with nowhere to go, except the water. She shuffled past the reeds, turning and walking backwards in order to keep an eye on the woman. She was still coming, just at the water’s edge. Melinda backed further until she was treading. The woman stopped at the waterline. They stared at each other. The woman waited on the bank. Melinda treaded water, quick breaths escaping her mouth in the chilly pond. Both didn’t move.

It had to have been at least five minutes. Melinda’s arms started to slow, staring at the unmoving woman. She wasn’t going to let her out of the water. She was going to stand there until Melinda drowned, or until she came back to shore and was killed. Her head started bobbing, and slipped under.

______________________

At 18, their only daughter was handed a set of keys. The Chaunce’s attorney had kept them in a safety deposit box at Fairfield bank and had now brought the girl to collect. A letter accompanied it.

“I meant for the cabin to be a gift to your parents. It seemed only fitting for it to pass to you. –R”

48 hours later, she had been in her car, headed north.

Jane would have to try and find an actual working light to replace the candle in the front window. It had been a silly idea to think it would be much use. She couldn’t spend the weekend here with no power. But thankfully she wouldn’t be alone. Headlights from undoubtedly her boyfriend’s Ford Taurus started to brighten the narrow path to the cabin and she smiled. Turning around, she busied herself on lighting a fire in the hearth and only turned back when the door opened, her boyfriend standing in the frame.

She smiled at him but frowned slightly when she noticed a cup of tea had appeared next to the recliner.

supernatural
6

About the Creator

Michelle Campbell

I’m a SAHM who grew up on classic monster movies and the history channel. Now I write mainly sci-fi and horror short stories that show the classic beauty of both genres, think twilight zone, hopefully without any overdone storylines.

Reader insights

Outstanding

Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!

Top insights

  1. Excellent storytelling

    Original narrative & well developed characters

  2. Compelling and original writing

    Creative use of language & vocab

  3. Easy to read and follow

    Well-structured & engaging content

  1. Heartfelt and relatable

    The story invoked strong personal emotions

  2. On-point and relevant

    Writing reflected the title & theme

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Comments (4)

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  • C. H. Richard2 years ago

    Wow that was really good. Beautiful description of the cabin. Loved the intensity, no way I would have spent the night though- lol. Hearted and subscribed❤️

  • Amy Writes2 years ago

    Oh my gosh this was so good and scary!!

  • L.C. Schäfer2 years ago

    That was so creepy. I loved it!

  • Cathy holmes2 years ago

    This is a great story. Well done.

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