Echoes of the Past

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

A blue light, almost silver around the edges of the light. It flickered but remained lit despite the draft. Every pulse of the flame it brightens. A ‌ strong glow just past the window while the rest remained empty of life. It rains heavily that night; a sudden thunderstorm starts and lightning arcs in the sky, in the distance.

It was a beacon for three lost people running. Two guys and a woman, perhaps in their late twenties and thirties. Mud covered their hiking boots as they ran towards cover. Mud sliding underfoot and a couple of them nearly slipped. One falls to his knees and covers his khakis in gray mud. There is no hesitation in getting up. There were worse things than rain.

Soaking and chilled to the bone, the eerie light looked like a sanctuary for them. The woman, muscular and of a smaller build, ran faster than her male comrades, made it to the door. Its hinges, rusted with time, pronounced their presence to an empty shell. The two other men trumped onto the porch, one with longish hair tied back and the second with shorter, wilder hair. He looks back as if searching for something or someone? Rumbling of thunder echoing and mingling with the sounds of a roar from the forest.

“Beck, come on.” Yelled the guy in the doorway. Both rush to close the door and push a table against it. Piled on top, several heavy boxes. Their chests rising and falling. The woman, Kendall, already had a bit of time to slow her breath and surveyed the area. There is an awful lot of stuff for an abandoned cabin. A sign it hastily abandoned. However, that candle didn’t light itself. Her focus lay on the eerily lit candle, its flame now lowered to almost nothing.

Beck paces about in the middle of the room. Stammering, “What are we going to do?”

“What - who - what is their problem?”

“Hey, let's get away from the windows, okay?” said the long-haired man, Trevor. Shrugging off his bag. The trio went about drawing as many curtains as they could and put up blankets. Beck moves the candle from the window and closes the curtain; some so tattered they didn’t close all the way.

Trevor looked through his pack for a flashlight.

“Are you sure we should have lights on?” questioned Kendall. Beck kept looking out the window. Holding the wavering flame up to see whatever could be outside, nothing. He sighs in relief and goes away from the window.

“I suppose we shouldn’t, but we need to see what we are doing.” He replies.

“We are going to hunker down for the night. We really don’t need to see.”

“What about who lit that?” Beck asked. He tries to blow it out.

“You think they haven’t heard us trashing about downstairs yet?”

“Hey, watch this.” Beck blows on it again. It looks like it goes out but instead of smoke, it just springs back up, just a dull flame.

“That is freaky.” Kendall says. Now turning on a flashlight. Suppose they should have a light handy and keep them down to the floor. “Perhaps we should move away from the front room.”

Trevor, now with his light on, agrees and specifies to stay together. Beck kept the candle close. They briefly debated about a small fire in the fireplace to warm it up. The smoke might give away our positions. Beck paced as they argued.

“Well, we will die of pneumonia if we don’t.” Kendall argued in the background. “I know how to make a fire that would emit a little smoke.” She tried to coax him. The debate went on in the background as he surveyed the area, staying within sight and earshot of his friends. The mantle had plenty of knickknacks and on the lower mantle were matches and a poker.

There is stuff everywhere, such as pictures of a once happy home, perhaps. A corner bookshelf, a record player, a couch, and stuff for needlework. Lots of needlework and crocheting. There is something off by all this stuff… like there was a lot. But why; sure, it wasn’t unusual for a house to have stuff in it if the person packed up and leave. But this looks lived in. Something was off–getting a closer look at the needle work finds it to be half done.

It didn’t help that the blue flame gave an eerie glow to the room. Wherever he held it up it created a spotlight on whatever the light touched within a small halo of light. The edge of the light was like a silver boundary the darkness didn’t penetrate. Like the half finished floral design on the aida, a nearly one foot radius covered the area with light and the rest in darkness. The air felt off; like heavy and empty at the same time.

Trevor and Kendall’s argument comes back into the foreground. Trevor relents. They haven’t seen evidence of the pursuer anymore and perhaps the storm would keep whatever lurks in the night at bay. Kendal grabs a match and gets ready to strike when they hear a creaking sound behind them. The rocking chair, with a side table and lamp to the right arm of it. Knitting needles in a basket beside it. Slowly rocked rhythmically. Everyone and things held still except for the chair.

“A - a draft, just a draft.” Trevor said with bravado. The chair, in response, just rolls all the way back and stays there. Kendall remains at half strike and Beck and Trevor hold their lights up. Blue mixing with a yellow light of the flashlight creates a slight green hue upon the chair. They all could have sworn the light cast a slight shadow on the wall and bent on the shelves. More like an airy silhouette. Thunder clashes and lightning flashes through the window and in the same instance; the outline wisps away and the chair rocks forwards. The momentum makes it rock a bit until it slows to a squeaking halt.

Kendall really shook, trying to get the match lit. Beck’s candle somehow rose high again during that instant but calmed down a bit. “A draft…” she barely whispers, more to herself. “... just, just a draft.” Sparks barely form when a gust of wind comes down the chimney. It somehow sounded like an agonized wail. A mixture of voices stirs up loose leaf papers; such as drawings, newspaper clipping, and polarized photos. Falling down in a spiral on the floor. Trevor is just standing there, trying to rationalize the whole event. It is a very windy storm. This could happen all the time; our nerves are frazzled, influencing our imaginations.

Kendall tries to light another match, but still nothing. Beck gets an idea to try the candle and another match lights, this time with the same blue flame. Several logs inside the fireplace which also lit up blue. Flames provide a significant light source to reveal markings on the floor. Gashes or dents in the wood. The floor is well worn, but those deep debits on the floor were so distinguished. Like someone was hitting something very hard on the floor. And faint blood splatters.

Blood running cold in all three, Beck’s mind is racing. Something seemed odd; lived in, yet abandoned, and life interrupted. Things disheveled about the room. The dots connected why it looks so odd. Sure, it wasn’t spick and span; They left books on the coffee table with a bookmark for easy access to read later. Unfinished work laid to the side to work on whenever. But there were items before the current draft just looked out of place. Knocked over or pushed aside.

Kendall tried to get warm, and Trevor gathered up the photos and news clippings. Beck went over to Kendall to comfort her and to get warm.

“Hey, are you okay?” He put his hand on her shoulder.

“I’m okay. I just really wish I understood what was going on.”

“Yeah, things are getting weird.” Looking into the flames. Trevor looked through the article and pictures. Skimming through the headlines; the owners had a thing about the crimes of the local area. From strings of robberies to murders. Some articles dated about five years ago about an unsolved murder.

“Oh, this was on the news a few years back.” He showed them the clippings. “Remember? It was big.”

“Wow, I wonder if this is the same cabin.”

“These people look familiar.” He tells them. “I remember seeing that guy at the tackle shop a lot.” He refers to an elderly man with thinning hair and turning gray. He was in the picture with a young couple and their teenage daughter. They look like a happy family of three generations living in this cabin.

“Whoooo-Hoooowhoooo.” The wind howls outside and the lightning violently flashes, one after the other. Running footsteps and scratching heard outside on the wrap-around porch. Wind and rain ‌beat on the windows; shaking in their frames. The flame once again perks up and flickers up and down, always pointing towards the window. Crawling towards the window slowly peaks over the sill. In the distance, he could see a hulking figure; over six feet tall, hunched over. Its long arms practically reach the ground. Long jaw unhinges, and a shriek came out of its distorted jaw, mingling with the howling winds.

“Oh God, it's back.” he announces to them. They slowly peek over the sill but there he stares; after a lightning flashed, it was much closer. All three gasps and duck down. Trevor kept his light low to the ground to think of a pathway out or a safer place in the cabin. The thing probably already knows their presence, but perhaps it can’t get in.

The trio crawl their ways to the hallway. Across the hallway was the kitchen. Simple L-shaped kitchen with a farmer’s sink. Lightning flashes reveal another silhouette; the light reveals more blood on the sink and where it dripped down on the floor. A long trail leading to the back door. Tears stream down their faces. Beck’s candle was getting higher and stretching upwards. The glow glowing brighter. Making the halo of light larger just makes it to the sink. Raising the candle a bit and with the flashlights, lit up the hallway. It went a bit to the right leading to a study? As far as they could tell by the ajar door.

The candle pointed them towards the other end of the hallway leading to a staircase. The running became frantic, and the fire had grown bigger now. Something pounded on the door. The lost hikers went up and turned at the top to another half hallway. Four doors, two on each side, lined the hallway. The attic door was right at the end. The pounding increased, and so did the howling. They took turns opening a door. One was the master’s, perhaps the grandfather’s, since it had a single bed. The other had a queen sized bed, the parents. Finally, the daughter's room. Five years of dust covered everything.

None of the rooms seems to have working locks or were sturdy on the hinges. They needed to hide, and perhaps in a secure location. The bathroom? Suddenly, a light clicks on; another blue light. And gurgling sounds and wheezing? They gather at the doorway to the bathroom. Beck in the middle and the light calmed a bit. Laying in the clawed foot tub lies a teenage girl in a green dress. They saw only the top of her head, since she was practically lying in the tub at an odd angle. One leg dangled over the edge and her arm laid limp over the edge. Blood and perhaps skin were under her nails and caked with mud; which also covers her green floral spring dress. Hair matted with dirty lake water and small twigs stuck out of her tangled hair. Her lips were blue.

Suddenly, her hand moves and grabs the edge of the tub, pulls herself up. She is gasping for air and attempts to clear out her lung, leans over the tub and starts coughing up the sludgy lake water. Mud, rocks, algae and twigs with dead flowers on them. She had to take her hand and pull the clumps of algae and seaweeds out of her mouth.

In a raspy voice, she spoke. “He is… here… again…he won’t rest… until you guys… are dead.”

“What?”

“He won’t ever allow… the secret to get out. Even though he is long dead himself; he will keep… his awful secret.” She gasps and wheezes. “He found out my grandfather was doing his own investigation.” *WhEeZe* “He was… an ex- private detective. He was afraid he was going to reveal his identity. He came and snuffed us out, one by one. My grandfather escaped the cabin but never made it out of the woods, but neither did the killer.” The wood started splintering down stairs. “These woods… are full of bogs; he led him to one, but in their struggle, they both drowned. The lake, the lake holds the answers.” Her breathing is laborious. “It is bigger than they realize. In the study is the map of the bogs; he mapped them out years ago for our safety.”

The thing crawled its way inside. “The candle will protect and guide you.”

The apparition disappears, leaving a pile of sludge on the bathroom floor.

Each step groaned under the behemoth's weight. Scrambling towards the attic, they pull down the trapdoor. One by one, Kendall first climbs the steps. Beck and then Trevor. The lumbering creature makes it around the corner and sprints to the group. Kendall was helping Beck in when she screamed, alerting them to the presence. Trevor screams right after as it dragged him away.

Beck scrambles down the steps, candle in hand. Kendall grabs a heavy object and follows‌. Adrenaline makes people react in ways they don’t expect, and right now, their adrenaline was telling them to save their friend. He did his best to hold on to the rails as the creature tried to drag him down. Perhaps it was an instinct, or the candle guided him, but the light illuminated the face and the mud cleared away to reveal the murderer’s face. “We know what you did.” He said with intention. The light glows brighter and his facade melts down to reveal a tall man with now piercing blue eyes.

He cringes from the light and lets go of Trevor. Staggering down the stairs hides his face from the light. Kendall strikes him on the head. The monster tumbles down. But he is not out. Getting up, they scramble towards the attic again. Beck understands now and stays back. Kendall makes it up to the stairs, and she keeps hold of the bent candle stick. Beck is backing his way to the stairs as the monster clumsily clambers back up again.

An inhuman grunt-growling sound emits from his throat. His clawed hands grab hold of the top of the banister. Followed by his head and gangly body make it to the hallway. Turning towards his prey unhinges a jaw as he releases another screeching/groaning. Similar to the howling wind which tunneled through the wind earlier.

By now, the candle brightened and grew larger. A deep blue in the middle ombres into a silver outline. It creates a halo that reveals its true face. Beck gets the idea the flame needs a bit of help, blows into the flame. The added oxygen grows and shoots outwards towards the man, setting him aflame. The ghastly specter retreats while on fire. Safer now, Beck sets down the candle to join his hiking buddies. Closing the door the flame stayed a light while they hunkered down in the far side of the attic, cuddled up for warmth and safety.

Following morning, the flame tapers out, and they find some maps in the study. Looking over the vast lake and minding the hidden caves and bogs makes it back to civilization. An anonymous tip goes to the police and they get a team of scuba divers to retrieve the bodies over the course of the following days. The Police Chief may have been a skeptic of the paranormal and never minded the so-called sightings of the monster. He knew about the former detective's investigation. This tip had to be considered. After going over the map left at the station and the notes in the study, perhaps there was something to look into. It wasn’t the first time they explored the Lake after their disappearance, but now they know of the bogs that the old man had mapped out.

He may not know what to make of the candle by the attic stairs or the sludge in the tub. Clearly, there were winds strong enough to take that already worn door down. One thing was for sure: it was a matter of time they found the remains of the whole family and the killer. More would be done to confirm their identities, but as far as he was concerned, this would close many cold cases the killer most likely partook in before his and the family’s untimely disappearance, followed by the end of killings.

The three friends were curious about the case and followed the news about the conclusive lab results, especially the killer's identity and connections of many murders prior to his now known death. Word around the small town that knew the family and the cabin, especially those that believed, comments on a lightness with the place.