Stay Out of the Light

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The three of us had been coming to these woods since we were all seven years old, and every one of those five years since the climax of our camping trip had been sneaking off to this spooky cabin after the campfire and daring each other to get as close to it as we dared. But before tonight, it had always been dark, abandoned, and utterly creepy.

We sprinted through the woods, jumping over rocks and fallen trees, the route to the cabin familiar after five years of finding it in the dark. I had always been the fastest runner, and when I saw the candle in the cabin window, I threw my arms up and out to my sides, catching Phil and Trevor as they tried to barrel past me.

“Stop! Look!” I whisper-yelled as they both skidded to a stop in the fallen leaves at the edge of the clearing that held the mysterious building.

My two best friends couldn’t be more different in personalities. Phil was kind of a dick. I know, not the thing you say about your best friend, right? But he was. He was all about being ‘macho’ and rejected anything he thought might make him look weak or babyish. He wasn’t shy about telling you if he thought you were being a baby, often over peals of obnoxious laughter. Trevor and I forgave him, though. His dad, who used to come on this father-son trip with us, had bailed on his family a couple of years ago. That left Phil, his mom, and his sister to fend for themselves. Luckily, it had never been a question for our dads that Phil would still include Phil on our annual camping trip. So here we were.

Trevor, on the other hand, was your run-of-the-mill nerd. He was quiet most of the time and incredibly smart. When he did have something to say, it was either an absolute zinger or some random fact that left both Phil and me scratching our heads. He took after his Dad, who had multiple degrees and worked for a university.

So here we were, the forest dark all around us. The usual night sounds of insects chirping and critters making their way through the brush were comforting and familiar. A light breeze felt great on our faces after a long hot day of fishing and swimming in the lake. I could still taste the s’mores on my sticky lips. The smell of woodsmoke overpowered the usual smells of the forest, and if I squinted my eyes just right, I could see smoke trickling out of the cabin’s chimney.

“Guys, someone’s there. We should probably leave,” I said nervously.

It was a full moon, and there was a silver glow on the outskirts of the clearing surrounding the cabin. The long grass shimmered in the cold moonlight, which eventually gave way to the golden glow of candlelight and the soft light from the two windows as you got closer to the rundown shack that we had never had the guts to explore. Beyond the cabin was complete darkness, with only the tops of the trees against the sky visible. Something about it felt wrong. I opened my mouth to say something else, but Phil cut me off.

“No way, man! This is perfect! We’re 12 now. It’s time to stop being babies. We’ve never even gotten close to the cabin. Don’t puss out on me now, Evan.”

I rolled my eyes at his predictable response.

“I don’t like how it makes me feel,” Trevor said in a small voice, and I winced. Here it comes, I thought, bracing myself for the onslaught of ridicule Trevor was about to receive. But it didn’t come. Phil was focusing too hard on the cabin.

“Whatever, man. You can do whatever you want with your feelings. I’m going to check it out.”

And he stepped out into the clearing.

Trevor and I looked at each other, and I could see the fear starting to build up in my belly, reflected in Trevor’s eyes. But we were a team. So we left the relative safety of the tree line and followed Phil into the moonlight.

If it had been up to me, I would have skirted the tree line around the clearing to get closer to the cabin, with the comfort of being able to take cover in the forest in case anything happened. But Phil being Phil, he walked right through the middle of the clearing, imitating the best tough-guy strut he knew. If I hadn’t been so frightened, I probably would have laughed. Trevor and I moved forward together, each step slow and measured as we took in our surroundings.

“There’s no car or anything, no real trail to get here,” Trevor whispered.

It was true. The only reason we had found the cabin was because we were exploring. But we had circled the clearing during the day on a hike and hadn’t seen any easy way to access it from the outside world.

“Well, somebody had to build it, right? So someone has to know it’s here,” I whispered back. Trevor didn’t respond, and he just continued his careful observation.

Phil was about 10 feet ahead of us when he stopped suddenly, eyes wide. We caught up to him and started looking around fearfully.

“What? What’d you see?” I asked, already dreading the answer.

Phil had his eyes locked on the trees behind the cabin.

“N-nothing. Well, I thought I saw something moving. But it was probably just the trees. You pansies are just freaking me out. Grow a pair, would ya?”

“Look, Phil, maybe we should come back during the day. There’s somebody here, and it would be rude to interrupt them -“ Trevor started.

“Come on, man! We’re this close. Let’s sneak up, climb the stairs, and peak in the window. We’ll be quiet, and nobody will know. It’ll be awesome!”

“I’m not sure those stairs are structurally sound,” I muttered. They looked pretty sketchy to me. The whole cabin seemed pretty sketchy.

“Whatever, man. Let’s do this!” Phil cried, a little louder than he intended, I think. All three of us winced, looking towards the cabin to see if somebody had heard us. But there was no movement in either of the windows, and we relaxed.

The fear that had been growing had started to dissipate while we were talking, but as soon as we began to creep forward again, it came back, and then some. Even Phil was moving carefully, abandoning his tough-guy walk. It wasn't easy to move soundlessly through the long grass. I tried not to think of what might be hiding in there, waiting for an unsuspecting foot. But as quickly as that thought occurred to me, it was gone, replaced by the increasing dread of what was to come. I couldn’t take my eyes off that candle. Why was it there? Was it meant as a greeting, welcoming strangers? Or was it warding something off? Trevor was scanning the tree line, and Phil looked everywhere, eyes darting around, often back to the trees behind the cabin.

As we got closer, we could see what terrible condition the cabin was in. Not only did the stairs look unusable, but the deck around the building was also riddled with holes where boards had fallen through. What I could see of the roof was covered in old leaves and pine needles and looked like it was sagging. I couldn’t imagine anyone being inside, let alone staying there.

We were getting closer to the ring of golden light emanating from the cabin. Something deep inside me told me that it would be a horrible idea to get that close to the creepy building. But I couldn’t leave my friends, and Phil was stubborn. I knew I couldn’t make him turn around. I was in this, good or bad, no matter the ending.

Phil crossed into the light from the cabin first. Immediately I knew something was wrong. His shoulders relaxed, and he stopped walking. He looked at the cabin and let out an audible sigh of pleasure.

Trevor, alarmed, immediately stepped forward to help our friend. Before I could warn him, he too was inside the light. I could see his face. There was a moment of absolute terror, pain, and grief before his eyes glazed over, and his body relaxed as he turned to face the cabin, just like Phil.

“Guys!” I cried, trying to see if they could hear me. I knew it wouldn’t be that easy, but I had to try.

I looked around me and saw a medium-sized stick over near the tree line. I ran over and grabbed it, then carefully approached my friends, making sure to stay out of the cabin’s light. I used the stick to poke Phil’s shoulder. When I got no response, I tried Trevor. Still nothing. So I poked a little harder. Then a little harder. When it got hard enough that I was probably leaving bruises on their arms, back, and shoulders, they moved forward, out of my reach, in complete synchrony. Three steps, at the same time, the same size, the same gait.

“FUCK!” I yelled, then immediately clapped my hands over my mouth, both because I had made such a loud noise and used the f-word.

I didn’t know what to do. I thought about going back to camp to get our dads, but it was a good 20 minutes through the trees, and I didn’t want to leave them in case something worse happened. I thought about throwing rocks but immediately decided against it in case it made them both move further into the light. I was pacing back and forth at the edge of the golden glow like an anxious dog, muttering to myself, trying to come up with something as the fear boiled in my belly.

Just as I finally decided to return to our campsite to get help, I heard a loud noise coming from the forest behind the cabin. It sounded like a tree had fallen, its canopy crashing between its neighbours. I froze. There was another crash and significant cracking and snapping of trees and branches. Trevor and Phil were on the balls of their feet, bouncing as if they were excited and couldn’t wait to see what was crashing through the forest towards us. A smell washed over me, combining deep forest decay and rotting meat. Nausea slammed into me, and I wavered, head spinning. I could taste bile on my tongue. But I managed to stay upright and looked around.

I saw its head first. Appearing over the cabin's roof, it had grey skin stretched tight over a round skull. It had dark, black pits where its eyes should be, leaking some kind of black ichor which dribbled down its face. It didn’t seem to have a nose, but it had a wide mouth full of sharp, shining teeth. Drool dripped from its lips as it regarded the three of us standing helpless in the clearing. It moved forward, crouching over the cabin, its long, hideous limbs lanky and awkward, with fingers and toes tipped with sharp black claws. If it had stood up, it would have towered over the trees. I stumbled back, trying to get away from it but staying close to my friends at the same time.

I could feel the warmth of the urine leaving my bladder as the monster regarded me with interest.

You are free. Why do you stay?

There was a voice in my head, strangely soft and lilting.

“What?” Was all I could say.

The monster cocked its head like a curious dog.

These two are mine. You are not. Most would flee. You have stayed. Why?

I swallowed. The monster was talking to me in my mind. And the beast was asking me why I hadn’t left my friends. I dug deep and answered.

“Because they are my friends.”

But they are lost. It is only natural to save yourself. You should go.

“I’m not leaving my friends. You can’t have them.”

It is not up to you. I could kill you in an instant. You should go.

“If you could, then why haven’t you?”

I show you mercy.

“Showing mercy would be letting us all go.”

I cannot do that. Your friends are already gone. The light has them.

Tears stung my eyes. I didn’t know what to think. This monster hadn’t killed me when it could. It was trying to let me go. Would it lie about my friends?

I would not lie.

How could I leave them? How could I turn my back on them now? I had to stay. I had to know what had happened to them.

You should not stay. You should go.

My whole body was shaking. I was surprised to find tears streaming down my cheeks. I owed my friends, I owed their families the knowledge of what happened, even if nobody believed me.

This is not bravery. It is stupidity. Leave or join the light.

I shook my head.

“I’m staying with my friends, but I am staying out of the light,” I said firmly, proud of myself for getting the words out.

You are sure.

I nodded.

I will not hold back.

I nodded again.

Very well.

A giant, black-clawed hand picked up Phil. The monster tipped its head back and tossed Phil in the air, catching him in his mouth. Phil didn’t make a sound. The crunching of bone and the sounds of meaty chewing made me vomit down my front. But I didn’t look away. I had to know. I owed them that much.

With a swallow, one of my best friends was gone.

The monster then picked up Trevor by the head. I could hear the crunch as the monster crushed Trevor’s skull without a second thought. This time, the monster took its time, starting with Trevor’s limbs, sucking and slurping at the blood and gore. He finally popped what was left of Trevor into his mouth and let out a giant, wet belch. What I could see of the monster its abdomen was distended, like a snake after its had its meal.

I will take my leave.

And the light in the cabin went out.

I could vaguely see it lumbering back through the forest, walking spider-like as it disappeared into the darkness.

I was left there in the dark. Alone. I was covered in piss and vomit. I fell to my knees and howled my grief and rage, my fear and sorrow. I wanted to melt away into the darkness. I should have gone into the light.

I didn’t know what to do. I sat alone in the moonlight, sobbing for what felt like hours. Eventually, our Dads got worried and came looking for us. They found only me. The authorities were called, and searches were conducted. I don’t remember much. I told them what happened, but as you can imagine, it was chalked up to shock and trauma.

The official story is that there was somebody in the cabin when we got there, and they took Phil and Trevor but couldn’t manage to take all 3 of us. Without any evidence, that was the best they could come up with. The cabin was torn down, and we stopped going camping completely. I carry the trauma of that night with me. I am afraid of the woods. I don’t light candles. I needed a lot of therapy to have any kind of normal life. But I also want to make sure that I remember my friends as they were, curious and brave.

So, if you are ever camping and come across a cabin that should be dark but isn’t, I beg of you, don’t go into the light.