Like Moths

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. An old man paused his nightly stargazing to watch the flame dance through his telescope from a few miles away.

After so long, it was certainly the most interesting thing to happen in his otherwise quiet community.

He began putting the telescope beneath his creaky bed. Before tucking in for the night, he turned off the lamp on the nightstand, not noticing that the glimmer of the candle simultaneously vanished in the darkness of the woods...

The next day, the old man awoke earlier than usual since his curiosity didn’t let him sleep as well as he could have. Still, he prepared his favorite two-egg breakfast and pondered on what someone could be doing at that cabin after so long. If someone planned on turning it into a rental, there were in for an unpleasant surprise. There were no lakes, no wildlife other than the insects around there, or even a worthy trail to explore...

Days passed, and these thoughts kept nagging at him. Regardless of that, the old man continued going about his rather uneventful life. Two-egg breakfast, walking his French bulldog, checking to see if he received any mail from his estranged children, and avoiding the other elderly neighbors in his community.

His favorite hobby of them all? Stargazing, and now, watching for signs of life in the cabin.

The old man didn’t like too much attention but part of him definitely craved some type of connection. He had set a bit of a trap for himself when he decided he wouldn’t use any sort of technology to make connecting much easier though… Such is the curse of being a stubborn old goat: all you get is a dog, a telescope, and ungrateful children.

On a day just like many others, the old man checked his mail expecting to see more social security checks or credit card offers. Just as he was ready to throw the entire stack of mail in the trash, he noticed a plain white envelope sealed with wax tucked neatly in between the coupon booklets.

Even more peculiar, the envelope had no name, no return address, or even proper postage.

As strange as it was, he quickly took the dog inside, poured himself a shot of his favorite bourbon which his doctor strictly forbade, and opened the envelope to satisfy his curiosity.

He wasn’t expecting much at first but, to his surprise, he found a small Polaroid photo of a telescope nearly identical to his. For a brief moment, he struggled to catch his breath when he noticed the candle burning in the background…

Clearly, the photo had been taken from inside the supposed empty cabin.

On the back of the photo, an ominous message read: “I also gaze at them before I decide which ones to keep.”

The old man gulped down the bourbon and shook the photo off as a tasteless prank. Being the stubborn dog that he was, it’s not like he was going to let it go so easily.

He patiently waited for the candle to come alive at night and set his scope to try and spot the person responsible for the photo. Hours passed and sleep began to seize the old man’s body. He saw nothing but the flame dancing away as his eyes slowly closed every other minute until he could no longer fight them…

The next day, he awoke on the floor covered in a cold sweat. His body was sore from choosing to observe the cabin instead of sleeping on his bed. The pain he felt became secondary when he noticed another mysterious photo right next to him…

When he looked at this one, he saw a lowball glass filled halfway with bourbon. In fact, it was the same brand and bottle he usually preferred. The candle burned brightly in the background of the photo, just like before, indicating this photo also came directly from inside the cabin…

Flipping the photo over, the message here read: “My favorite after a long, watchful night.”

Without hesitation, the old man ran downstairs to check the cabinet where he kept his own bottle of bourbon and froze with fear when he realized it was gone. Simply vanished.

He looked around for a few moments to see if any windows were broken or locks had been picked.

He felt a tremendous pull from beneath as the adrenaline rushed through his legs. Struggling with each step, he walked back upstairs to search for his revolver pistol. The pigheaded old man didn’t opt to call the police and have them investigate; he chose to take matters into his own hands.

Just as he reached his front door, the hand he gripped the pistol with tightened dangerously around the trigger when he noticed another photo face-down by the door.

He struggled to catch his breath for several moments before reaching for it. With a weakened and dry whisper, he read its message:

“I meet them halfway when they don’t want to stay.”

The sweat permeated every layer of his clothing when he flipped the photo over. This one was clearly taken in the middle of the night from inside his own bedroom. The same candle from the cabin was seen lighting a portion of the room from his window sill…

The old man’s paralyzing fear turned into a blind rage and confusion as he then rushed to his truck and drove towards the cabin to get answers. How was it even possible for one to be taken from inside his own home?

He felt so violated and vulnerable, yet ready to bring about vigilante justice. He drove for miles until the day turned into night. The closer he got to the cabin, the more he could see just how deeply buried in the forest it was. Whoever this intruder was, the old man was set on making sure they would pay...

Finally reaching the dirt path leading to the cabin, he nearly drove his truck into the trees. He was so desperate that he didn’t realize he had been driving on a flat tire after running over one of the many sharp rocks along the way.

With no spare tire and barely any gas left to get back, he jumped out of the truck, gun in hand, and stormed over to the cabin. No signs of life could be seen from the outside. No cars. No animals other than the moths flying about. No occupants. Just the light of the candle burning by the window…

For a moment, he hesitated as he neared the cabin door, but managed to knock on it firmly to make sure anyone inside would hear him…

Surprisingly, nothing. Not a sound. No movement.

He shouted, cursed, and even considered firing a warning shot to get the occupant to come out. Still, nothing. Just the silence of the forest eating up all the sounds that the old man was fruitlessly producing.

Instead of using this opportunity to simply walk away, he forced his way into the cabin and shouted for someone to come out. He aimed the pistol shakily in front of him as he crept through the corners of the small living space. The floor gave away his position with each creaky step he took inside.

The intruding moonlight made it possible to see just enough of the room he was in, leaving only two more spaces left to search: the bathroom and the bedroom where the candle burned.

After checking the bathroom, he made his way toward the room. Swallowing a mouthful of spit, the old man peeked into the room, spotting a woman on the floor.

At first glance, he didn’t know whether he’d found his intruder or simply another victim…

He shouted for her to stand up, but her body remained motionless and partly exposed. Although he saw no wounds on her, his breath kept thinning with every step he carefully took forward.

His heart pounded forcefully, causing him to nearly stumble onto the bed that the woman was chained to. On it, he saw more photos in a disorganized pile next to an old camera and a pen. The photos were of different men and women. Some were nude, others were mutilated…

The old man’s fear turned into absolute disgust. His fingers trembled as he struggled to process his surroundings. Just then, the chains rustled next to his shaky feet.

Quickly glancing at the floor, his limbs seized up upon seeing the woman now standing by the doorway, holding the candle in her hand. With a sinister smirk, she blew out the candle as the old man stood frozen in place before he could fire his pistol.

The vanishing flame drowned both him and the mysterious woman in the darkness of the cabin. The entire room seemed to collapse into itself as the moon hid its pale face behind the clouds.

A few moments later, the moon reappeared... And the woman’s silhouette painted the corner of the room.

A photo of the old man’s last moments was captured in the pile atop the dirty mattress.

She slowly lit the candle again and placed it by the window - the signal used to ensnare any other curious eyes peeking towards the light, becoming new additions to the moths outside.