The Abandoned Cabin

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

Small puncture holes from bebe guns perforate the glass. The chilly autumn wind flutters in the circular spaces between the glass and around the border of the ancient window panel—its protection from the outer world long since worn away.

The cabin itself is decrepit. Aged beyond repair. Gaping rips riddle the roofing and moss and mold infests what’s left.

Ivy crisscrosses the wooden slats, clinging so tightly that it dents it in places, crushing it. Trying to absorb the materials stolen by man back into nature.

But the most unsettling thing by far is the bloodcurdling scream emanating from it.

A scream so piercing that birds fling from their perches in a frenzy, not even bothering with any kind of organized formation, as it bounces off of the surrounding hills, echoing back eerily.

The door is wide open, haphazardly flung to the side in a desperate frenzy. A gaping maw beckoning lonely travelers in with the glimmer of not one, but several candles.

Inside, the picture is more shocking than even that unearthly scream could foreshadow.

A splattering of blood, a sizzling inky substance, and flecks of white litter the floor. In the corner, hunched over and clutching her swollen belly, a woman sobs. She is covered in bruises head to toe, and sticky with blood and sweat. Tears carve pale trails through the gruesome mess.

“Stop!” she wails, “Please, stop it! You’ve done enough!” Her other hand is outstretched, pushing her assailants away. All of her strength launched into this grand gesture and her sobbing shrieks.

Because that’s all it is, a gesture. She could not touch her assailants if she tried. Couldn’t even reach far enough to flick them with the tip of her middle finger. The ring of salt surrounding her sees to that. Her own personal circle of hell.

Flames lick at the floorboards. Crawling up to engulf her from the depths of the pit itself.

“No! You can’t do this! It’s killing me!” she clutches her belly with more fervor as another contraction wracks through her crouching body, “Gyahhhhaaaaaaaah!”

The floorboards rattle slightly, then rapidly, creaking and squeaking escalating to groaning and quaking as they begin to split and crack and snap. Bending upwards towards the ceiling as the ground bellows up to meet them from below or curving down towards the earth as it falls violently from under them.

“Delilah, just hold on a little bit longer! You can fight it!” the nearer of her assailants shouts over her wailing and the fire that now roars around her, “You mustn't give in to it!”

The flames leap higher and higher, now a nearly impenetrable inferno.

I look deeper into the flames, searching for a glimpse of Delilah among the burning intensity, reciting the mantra robotically all the while.

‘Never stop chanting,’ the Teacher had instructed me, ‘Once you start you cannot stop, or you doom us all. We must be in sync at all times.’

Through the glare of the fire I catch a glance of Delilah’s form, distorted—disfigured. The limbs looking to be bent at odd angles, her head cocked so far to the side that it was nearly upside down, regarding us with cruel disdain.

A shiver shoots down my spine and I trip over a syllable, regaining my composure in a split second for the sake of my colleagues.

In that moment I felt trapped, hunted, cornered.

‘Prey.’

I look around at my brothers to see if they are shaken at all—if they have even noticed this apparent transformation. All of them have the same stony, determined grimaces as they keep their eyes fixed on the target and their throats uttering the guttural chant.

I focus my attention back. Delilah appears normal again, but now she is hunched over on all fours, face contorted in searing anguish as her contractions get more intense.

“It’s almost time!” the Teacher cries, “Soon we will know if it worked!”

I nod, chanting louder and with more powerful emotion than I have given anything else in my existence.

Delilah’s wailing climbs higher, louder, reverberating in the walls and echoing in my skull, threatening to split it right down the middle.

Suddenly, the shaking stops. The fire dissipates. The candles are all blown out. Silence ensues.

Newborn wailing permeates the air. A black smoky substance laced with fiery sparks and smelling of brimstone drifts out above Delilah’s body only to change course and slam into the floorboards right next to her, supposedly sinking back to its cursed domain.

“Oh, Delilah!” The Teacher runs to his daughter, her and her son now freed from the possession. Delilah still seems to be in a daze, her eyes closed and a hand clutching at her forehead.

As the Teacher draws nearer, she glances up—past his approaching figure, straight at me— a mischievous glint and a red tint to her eyes.

“Hey, wa—” I choke out.

I’m a split-second too late.

He reaches her, pulling her into a hug, which she willingly accepts.

The second her arms are around his midriff, she squeezes with otherworldly strength and snaps his spine in half.

The Teacher’s cry of excruciating pain is cut short as she does him the small mercy of twisting his head rapidly to the side and snapping his neck next.

We all just stand there.

Statues. Shocked in the ringing silence. All loose jaws and unmoving limbs. Frozen in terror.

I finally regain my breath and yell at the top of my lungs. “Everybody, run!” I take a step back towards the door. Mid-pivot, I can already tell that she’s too fast.

As I’m turning, I catch a flit of her silhouette blurring between the other men. The agonized shrieks and cracking of bone and squishing of flesh behind me is barely perceptible over the pounding of blood in my ears.

Out of nowhere, she’s standing directly in front of me. The only thing standing between me and my chance at escape. She clutches the baby covered in blood and afterbirth tenderly in her arms, hugging it close to her naked chest. Both of them are a gory, primal spectacle.

“Simon,” she coos, “you were always my favorite. A shame you won’t get to witness the world we will create.” She caresses the baby’s face softly, “Egan, my little fire, we’re going to do great things together.”

“But, you can’t take him! Delilah—”

“Is dead,” she responds without skipping a beat. “What,” she glances up from the child to look directly into my eyes, they’re terrifying, but still beautiful. Delilah’s eyes. Corrupted by this crazed creature. “Did you think I would readily let go of such potential, such promise for our future?”

I’m frozen again, my body still trying to process everything that has happened. My brain is trying to get me to flee; it knows very well I can’t fight what I’m up against.

I feel my temperature physically drop as my blood turns ice cold in my veins. ‘There’s no point in running. I’ll never make it.’

“Oh, you really thought your little exorcism could stop me? That’s cute. Obviously, you underestimated who exactly you are dealing with. Lilith, one of the oldest demons and mother of all monsters? Surely you’ve heard of me. And now this little monster is going to be trained up to become one of our own. Probably the most powerful of us all.”

“But, he’s human,” I state, dazed and confused.

“Oh, honey, if he was just human, do you think I would even waste my time?” She turns away and begins walking to the door.

I remain in my stance. ‘Is she…letting me go?’

“Oh, I almost forgot!” She raises her finger ominously in the air above her head for a moment and then gives the air a swift flick.

I crumple to the ground. Fire eats through my entire body. All of my muscles contort at once, I can feel them twist around each other, ripping and tearing apart like paper. My bones feel as fragile as pencils. I wish they would just break instead of bending and splintering slowly apart. Shrapnel shoots off and the pieces left behind pierce through my flesh at odd, gruesome angles.

I only distantly hear my screams. This body is not mine anymore.

Through all of the noise of my body being horrifically demolished, her voice sounds like the faint echo of a distant whisper in the hollow cavity of my head.

“I told you you were my favorite, Simon”, I vaguely see her walk out the cabin door as my vision fades to black.

“See you at the end of time.”