Cabin Digitalis

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

The small, yellow flicker cast its light like a beacon into the darkening woods.

Ellison, who had grown weary from his travels, fixated on the light and made his way toward it.

He pulled his coat tighter around him in an attempt to stave off the ever increasing chill that traveled on the wind. He felt the soft crunch of leaves beneath his weary feet. He inhaled the smells of dirt and moss.

Other earthy, sweet, and pungent smells filled his nose.

The brewing storm would break soon.

Trees creaked and groaned as Ellison drew closer to the cabin.

Blue, pulsating light filled the clouds for a moment and revealed the silhouettes of bare and angry branches, and the lonesome cabin that stood some meters ahead.

Ellison quickened his pace. He grimaced slightly at the sharp, acidic pain that stung in the muscles in his legs.

He would be happy for even a brief respite from walking.

Below his feet, he felt the leaves shift and slide in the thin layer of mud and algae that grew underneath.

Ellison, not wishing to barge into someone’s home uninvited, raised his right fist to knock.

One rap of his knuckles against the wood of the door, and it pushed open with a mournful creak.

Ellison pushed the door open the rest of the way, and leaned his head inside.

“Hello?” he called out. “Is anyone there?”

There was no response.

Ellison looked back and forth at the inside of the cabin.

Even in the dim light, he could make out a few features.

A bed and nightstand on the left wall faced the fireplace on the right.

In the middle of the cabin was a table and single chair that also faced the fireplace.

Two lanterns were affixed to the back wall, as well as two to the front.

There was no other furniture, nor any other doors, as far as Ellison could tell.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” he announced again before he entered.

The floorboards let out a gentle groan as he took his first few steps inside.

Ellison closed the behind him, which silenced the whistling of the wind and the creaking of the trees.

He furrowed his brow and cocked his head, curious as to the sudden silence.

Ellison turned toward the door, paused for a moment, then pulled the latch to lock the door.

“Hello!” Ellison called out again, the sound of his voice seemingly lacking any reverberation or echo it should have had.

Just as before, silence responded.

Confused, but undeterred, Ellison walked over to retrieve the candle.

The scent of kerosene danced in his nose as he passed one of the lanterns. It mingled with the smell of stale air and wood.

He reached for the candle and noticed that the liquid at the tip had barely begun to make its journey down the sides of the waxy spire.

“Strange,” Ellison muttered to himself and he picked up the candle holder, careful to not accidentally snuff out the candle.

With hand cupped in front of the flame, and head turned to aim his breathing away from the candle, Ellison returned the lantern he had passed, and lit it.

He lit the remaining lanterns in turn, and looked around the cabin once more.

The cabin was wider, and longer, than Ellison had assumed. He wrote off the difference in apparent size to the fact it was dark when he approached, and that it was surrounded by so many trees.

Still, an uneasiness crept in.

The sparse items felt just a bit too far apart.

There was no sign of dust, cobweb, or rodent.

Everything felt old and untouched, but somehow still clean.

No.

Sterile was a better word, Ellison decided.

A stack of firewood and kindling stood next to the fireplace, and an ax and poker next to that.

Like everything else in the cabin, the logs appeared to have been cut a long time ago, but showed no sign of rot or degradation.

Ellison set about building and lighting a fire.

He remained on one knee and watched as the flames now licked at and consumed the logs in the fireplace.

The warmth of the fire felt muted. Not the bright and sharp heat Ellison had felt from every fire before.

He looked out the window and sighed.

The storm had broken and, though Ellison could not hear it, he could see the wild torrents of rain that were crashing down.

“At least I’m not out there, I suppose.”

Ellison heard a loud thump and creak from somewhere behind him.

He quickly turned his head to locate the source of the noise.

The single drawer of the nightstand was now pulled partially open.

Curious, Ellison stood and made his way to the other end of the cabin.

He glanced down at the bed, sheets old, but clean and untouched like everything else, before opening the nightstand drawer further.

Inside, he found a leather bound book which, despite it being the only item that wasn’t out in the open, looked worn and showing the effects of time.

Ellison reached in and carefully retrieved the book.

Book in hand, he walked over to the table and sat down.

Ellison placed the book on the table and, not wanting to damage the book further, tenderly opened it.

Many of the pages were worn and water stained, which made deciphering many of the entries of what was clearly a journal anywhere from difficult to impossible.

Of the readable entries, many were generic thoughts on that day’s weather, visits to market, and other mundane daily activities.

Peppered among these entries were others mentioning discoveries of magic and alchemy. Strange symbols and words were drawn here and there throughout the journal.

Mentions of meeting a beautiful woman.

A whirlwind romance, but things turned sour.

… I realize now the darkness and wickedness that resides inside that woman…

… she had bewitched me…

… promises of…

… fooled…

… I have created a prison…

… will lure her…

… The deed is done…

… I have trapped myself…

… her influence is still strong…

… may come looking…

… time will weaken…

… I feel my life is at its end…

… what will I become…

Ellison shivered as he reached the end of the journal.

“Am I in the cabin of a madman?” Ellison asked himself.

He looked around the sparse room again.

The cabin seemed even larger now. The walls appeared to have a creeping, shifting flow. The corners pulled and stretched further away. Shadows grew darker as the light of the fire and lamps could not seem to penetrate it.

Dizzy and nauseous, Ellison pushed himself up from the table.

“Time to leave,” he ordered himself.

He regained his composure as best he could, and stumbled toward the door.

Ellison braced himself with one hand on the door frame as he unlatched and opened the door.

The deafening roar of the storm raged in his ears.

The wind screamed at him as it lashed out with stinging rain.

Lightning flashed and revealed the convulsing trees and walnut sized hail.

Ellison pushed the door shut and latched it.

The silence returned.

Ellison, head beginning to ache, found his way to the bed and lay down.

“Just… a moment’s… rest…”

Sleep took him.

Just as quickly as he fell asleep, Ellison found himself rising out of bed and walking toward an open door at the back of the cabin.

The room behind Ellison faded away as he stepped into the long, dimly lit hallway that was behind the door.

The further he walked down the corridor, the further the end appeared to be.

A tingling sensation began to creep across the left side of Ellison’s body as he came to a door on the left side of the hallway.

A fist sized hole, surrounded by broken and cracked wood, sat about eye level in the door.

There were two more layers of barrier behind the door. One of wood, another of plaster, each with the same hole.

Ellison peered into the hole.

Stairs led down and disappeared into darkness.

Despite the darkness, Ellison could see, and feel, a presence walking in the black.

Something angry and evil shuffled in from the left and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. It paused and began to turn toward Ellison.

Ellison gasped and pushed himself away from the door.

Ellison’s eyes sprung open, then fell half closed again. Still in the haze of sleep, he looked at the other end of the cabin.

A grinning man stared at Ellison from the far right corner. The Grinning Man’s eyes were wide and unblinking. His grin, which stretched further than it should, was unfaltering, without so much as a twitch to disrupt the display of the strange, ivory wall of his teeth.

Ellison sprung up into a seated position. He could feel his heart punching at his chest.

Within the blink of Ellison’s eyes as he was startled into wakefulness, the Grinning Man had disappeared.

Ellison looked about the cabin, and swallowed hard.

“Calm down.”

Ellison took a moment to steady his breathing as his eyes scanned the cabin again.

He laughed and shook his head.

Ellison turned so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He lowered his head and rubbed his forehead with hand.

“Just a carry over from my nightmare.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head.

Ellison heard the unmistakable sound of a log being lifted from the pile and tossed onto the fire.

He slowly turned his head toward the sound of the crackling embers.

A hooded figure was hunched down by the fireplace and prodded the logs with the poker.

“H-hello?” Ellison forced himself to speak.

The figure turned their head slightly back toward Ellison and briefly paused their tending of the fire.

They turned their head back to the fire, finished their prodding, and stood.

“Hello.”

The figure’s voice was sweet, and female.

Ellison could smell the faint scent of honey, with hints of bitter flower behind it.

While he could not see her, the image of a beautiful woman appeared in his mind.

Her skin was pale like moonlight. Eyes a misty gray. Her blonde hair braided with a few purple, tubular flowers weaved in.

“Sorry,” Ellison continued. “I didn’t realize anyone was living here.”

“It is of no matter,” the woman replied. “But tell me. How did you find this place and how were you able to enter?”

“I was journeying through the forest, and saw a light in the distance that drew me here,” Ellison answered. “And I entered through the front door, which was unlatched.”

“What door?”

“That one.” Ellison turned and pointed to where the door was, only to see a blank wall.

“What?” Ellison got off the bed and rushed to the wall. He ran his hands over where the door should have been. He knocked and slapped his hands against the wall.

“It seems you are trapped here,” the woman said. “Just as I am.”

Ellison's eyes darted around the now blank space as he looked for a seam and pressed against the wall.

“What is your name?” The woman continued.

“El.. Ellison.” He stepped back from the wall, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “And yours?”

“Gwyllion.”

“Gwyllion…” Ellison repeated. “An unusual name.”

“Indeed.” There was a hint of laughter in her voice. “Perhaps you could, no… I couldn’t ask that..” Gwyllion paused for a moment. “So tell me, Ellison, why were you traveling through the forest on your own? Why are you not at home on such a night?”

“I don’t have a home,” Ellison replied. “Not as such, anyway. And no companion to accompany me on my journeys.”

“No family at all?”

“None.”

“It sounds like a lonely and solitary existence.”

“It… is.” Ellison felt pangs of longing that he had not thought about in a long while. “But what of you?” He pushed his emotions down. “How did you come to be here?”

Ellison had turned toward Gwyllion and took a few steps forward.

As he did, Gwyllion seemed to shift and turn to maintain her back to Ellison, though she did not move her feet to step.

Ellison stopped his approach, and sat down in the chair at the table instead.

“It was that wicked man Albicus.” Gwyllion’s voice virtually spat the name as she clenched her fist. “He was a jealous, spiteful man. He wanted me all to himself, and when I spurned him, he used his magics to trap me here.”

“How long has it been?”

“I could not say. Time has lost all meaning for me.”

“There has to be a way out of here.” Ellison repeatedly tapped his fist on the surface of the table. “If what’s happening here is magic, or spells, it can be broken, right? Spells can always be broken.” Ellison shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he muttered to himself.

“Would you risk this for me?” Gwyllion’s honeyed voice swirled in Ellison’s ears. “It will be dangerous. Albicus will try to stop you. But should you succeed… We will both be free.” There was a hint of a smile in her voice. “I will of course reward you. You will not be lonely anymore.”

An intrusive thought and image flashed in Ellison’s mind.

Himself. Gwyllion. The bed.

Ellison cast that from his mind as quickly as it had appeared.

He just wanted out of here.

“What do I need to do?” Ellison stood up from the table.

“You must go down below and remove what Albicus placed on my body to keep me bound here. With chain and dagger he has trapped me here.”

As Gwyllion spoke, the smell of honey and bitter flowers began to make Ellison a bit light headed.

“I obviously cannot interfere with it,” Gwyllion continued. “That is why it must be you.”

“How do I get down below?”

“The entrance to the cellar is in the hall.” Gwyllion pointed to the left at a door that Ellison had not seen before.

“Right.” Ellison walked over to the log pile, retrieved the ax, and approached the door.

Ellison tilted his head from side to side as he could feel that Gwyllion had turned to look directly at him. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

The hallway stretched out like it had been fired from a cannon. It rotated as it expanded so far down to appear that the end was no more the size of a pinhole of darkness.

Though he felt as if he were on a ship on stormy seas, Ellison pushed forward and marched down the hallway.

He scanned both sides of the corridor and kept a lookout for the door.

After sixty steps, Ellison found the door on his left.

Thick metal locks kept the door from opening.

He would have to cut through the door itself.

Ellison raised the ax and began to hack away at the door.

Wood splintered and cracked.

Ellison grunted and strained.

To his right he saw a figure a far distance down the hall.

The Grinning Man took a step toward Ellison. Then another. His even, unhurried strides brought the Grinning Man closer and closer to Ellison.

Ellison returned his focus to the door and used the growing fear and adrenaline to add power behind the ax.

“Come on!” Ellison shouted and threw all his weight into the blows of the ax.

The Grinning Man drew ever closer.

Finally, Ellison had smashed a space wide enough to squeeze through.

He stepped onto the small landing and looked down at the next barrier.

The planks of wood were older and rotting here, which Ellison made short work of with the ax.

Ellison hurried down the stairs to the plaster barricade.

Much like the wood, time had seemed to have had its effect on the plaster.

The ax plunged into the material.

White dust exploded into the air as the ax head pierced the plaster and defaced the fading symbols and runes that were drawn on its surface.

The crumbling plasterwork now sufficiently destroyed, Ellison continued down the stairs.

He gripped the ax tighter with his now chalky white hands as he carefully approached the darkness.

He stepped into the cellar and his vision was immediately drawn to the blue flame that hovered in the air at the fair right.

Beneath the hovering flame, a linen wrapped corpse was suspended in the air by iron chains that encircled the body.

The left end of the chain was knotted through a pole of wood from an ash tree. The other end passed through another pole and was pulled tight and fastened with iron locks.

In the darkness behind Ellison, the shadows pulsed and began to coelesce in a form.

Ellison raised the ax and quickly brought it down into the pole on the left. He frantically chopped away as the figure behind him took shape.

“Stop!” An angry, raspy voice shouted from the darkness.

The pole collapsed, which caused the chain to go slack and let the body fall.

Ellison dropped down next to the body and began to tug the loose chain away from the corpse.

The shadow figure rushed forward.

With the chain now loosened, Ellison could see an iron dagger bound by a ribbon to the corpse’s chest.

He reached for the dagger as the shadow figure lunged for Ellison.

Ellison gripped the hilt, and with one motion freed the blade from the ribbon and slashed at the shadow that was attacking.

The dagger slashed through the figure, and caused it to stumble back.

“Fool.” The shadow figure spoke its last, growling statement before dissipating into nothingness.

Ellison paused for a moment to look for any other disturbance.

When none presented, he turned back to finish removing the chain from the body.

As the last link of the chain was pulled away from touching the corpse, the blue light quivered, then exploded out in a silent, circular wave.

Ellison breathed heavily and slowly.

It was over.

Ellison pushed himself up to his feet, and, with heavy and weary steps, ascended the stairs. His body felt heavier and heavier as he approached the main room of the cabin.

The doorway morphed back into the wall behind him as Ellison entered and looked at Gwyllion.

She was now facing him, hood down.

She looked exactly like the images that had entered Ellison’s mind.

Ellison took another breath, and his nose twitched at the smell.

The honey was gone.

All that remained was harsh bitterness mixed with mouse urine.

Ellison grew faint and fell backward.

His fall was slow, and he felt as if he was sinking down trough thick mud.

Ellison’s descent ended, and he now lay helpless on the floor.

“Men are such simple creatures,” Gwyllion sneered as she stood over Ellison’s immobilized body.

Ellison’s eyes darted around in panic as he tried to make his body move.

All he managed was a look of fear.

“Oh,” Gwyllion clicked her tongue and spoke in mocking concern. “Did you think you’d play hero? Or that I’d give myself to you in gratitude? Doesn’t really matter what your motivation was. You were so easy to manipulate. To make you help this damsel in distress.” She clutched her hands to her chest, feigned a frightened face, then laughed. “But I did promise you would never be alone.” She said as knelt down beside him. “And I will keep that promise.” She placed her right hand on Ellison’s chest. “You will not be lonely again.”

From somewhere on Ellison’s left, the Grinning Man stepped out from where he was hiding, and walked over. He leaned over Ellison, and that hideous grin seemed to grow even wider.

“My husband and I both like your body,” Gwyllion continued as she traced symbols with her finger tip over the center of Ellison’s chest. She muttered words in some forgotten language and brought her hand to the Grinning Man’s chest. She traced symbols, before slowly pulling her hand away.

A rotted, silver chord emerged from the Grinning Man and was guided by Gwyllion to Ellison’s chest.

Numbness overtook Ellison’s body as pressure built on his sternum.

His consciousness was pushed back into the recesses of his being.

The last thing he felt was the muscles in his face pull his mouth into an unwanted smile as he lost any sense of control of his body.

The Grinning Man’s body collapsed and crumbled in a pile of ash and dust.

Gwyllion helped her husband to his feet.

They bowed their heads in greeting and kissed.

Hand in hand, they opened the cabin door and stepped out into the world.

Ellison, now no more than a passenger in what was his body, screamed silently over and over and over…