The Crow and the Widow

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

Jack stopped dead in his tracks, his flashlight falling from his grasp with a soft thud as it rolled across the forest floor. “Jack? What’s wrong?” Celeste called out with the faintest of urgency. Jack pointed to the amber glow emitting in the distance between the pines. “Someone’s in there. We need to go”.

“We aren’t doing anything wrong. We’re just mucking around,” Celeste protested. Jack grimaced. “I know, but no one lives there as far as I know. The place has been empty forever. Come on. It’s giving me the creeps”.

Jack’s close friend Will entered his mind, recalling an urban legend of a man and his wife living in the cabin many years ago. Jack and Will were skipping stones across Lake Mary in the summer holidays; Will trying his hardest to frighten Jack. It’s what the boys revelled most in – trying to outdo one another with scary or outlandish stories. Will had told Jack about a time where the lady that lived there in the cabin had lost her wits about her and tried to strangle her husband. “She had really long hair and he woke up with it wrapped around his neck. She had this pet bird too that she would yammer away to. She was really sick and got worse, so he had to take her to the madhouse. You know, the loony bin. They’d both be long gone now though, that was years ago”.

Will’s words rung through Jack’s head as he stood fixated on the dull orange tinge peeking through the tree branches. Jack and Celeste had met each other at a weekend camp a few weeks ago and shared a common interest in all things strange and paranormal. Jack and Celeste had ventured out to these neck of the woods before, although never this close to the cabin. He and Celeste had just wanted to check the place out, but never expected that someone may be inside.

Celeste craned her neck between the tree line to where Jack had pointed. “I think we should have a look”. Jack turned to Celeste sharply and shook his head. “I really don’t think that is a good idea”. Celeste let out a snicker and dashed toward the wooden house on the hill, dead leaves and pine needles crunching beneath her boots. Jack let out an exasperated sigh and followed suit, trying carefully to dodge the thicket of branches reaching toward him in each direction.

Jack puffed and panted after Celeste before eventually reaching the clearing at the bottom of the hill. He and Celeste gazed upward in astonishment at the cabin looming before them. They had never seen it up close like this before. Jack was surprised the place wasn’t rotting from the inside out.

The light at the window pane rippled and flickered – a stark contrast to the pitch black of the night. Celeste and Jack caught each other’s eye and found themselves ascending the ridge, as though their legs had a mind of their own. A stray tree root cracked beneath Celeste’s foot which conjured an unwanted image in Jack’s mind of an old man’s neck snapping like a piece of wood. Jack pushed the thought away and continued climbing. The cabin rose up before them in all its monstrous glory, offering Jack and Celeste a grisly sight to behold.

Tree roots snaked their way along the cabin walls like gnarled witch fingers. Portions of the timber appeared to buckle underneath the roots as though the cabin were being choked. Jack felt a prickle at the back of his neck as his hair stood on end. Clumps of forest ivy were wrapped along the base of the roof and descended down toward the long grass poking through the slats of the cabin porch. The door hung wide open from its hinges. A decent breeze may be able to pluck the door from the frame with little effort, although the night was still and soulless.

Celeste pressed her face against the dirty glass window but could only see darkness within, despite the single candle burning. “Hello?” Celeste cried out. No reply. Celeste pried herself away and turned to look at Jack. “Coming in?” Jack stared at Celeste in disbelief. “No, I think I’m good”. “Suit yourself,” Celeste smiled and moved into the house, instantly swallowed by darkness.

Jack waited uneasily by the window while Celeste was inside. He couldn’t help but feel as though he was on display. Jack was unable to see in, but whoever was inside could surely see him. Jack could not help but feel his stomach turn and his palms become clammy. Why was Celeste not saying anything? Everything was so silent. Jack suddenly felt he could not stand the stillness anymore on his own and crept through the doorway of the cabin.

The candle by the window flickered mockingly and seemed to suck out all the light from the inside of the house. Jack took a moment to adjust to the dimness, but when he did, he marvelled at the cabin’s interior. Lush woven rugs adorned the timber floors, with dead leaves scattered across them. Strange looking furniture filled the room and the structure of the hallways did not seem to make any sense. Jack could see floral wallpaper lining each of the walls, the flickering candlelight making the pattern on the walls bend and melt like a sickening kaleidoscope. Jack had never seen a house like this before. It looked like it was stuck in a time warp. It wasn’t dirty, but it looked so old.

A loud CAW cut through the air like a knife which nearly sent Jack toppling to his knees. Jack’s heart leapt in his throat before he noticed Celeste sitting around the corner on a chair by the wall. Jack started to feel annoyed now by Celeste’s games and moved toward her.

“Celeste, this is getting old now. No one is here, let’s just go”. Celeste sat still, her back toward Jack, but she seemed to be laughing. Celeste’s body slightly heaved back and forth in the dim orange haze. “Celeste?”

CAW! A crow erupted from the darkness, wings flapping before settling to perch on Celeste’s shoulder. Jack froze, stunned. The light suddenly shifted, glowing brighter than ever, and Jack realised that Celeste was sitting on a rocking chair, her body slowly bobbing into the light before plunging into the shadows again. “C-Celeste…?” Jack croaked out before the light dimmed and he felt his throat tightening, the feeling of helplessness setting in and his breathing being slowly cut off. Jack clutched at his throat and lurched forward, trying desperately to draw some air into his lungs.

Jack looked down and saw a slithering carpet of silver threads inching toward him across the floor. Jack shuffled his feet away and focused his gaze upwards, following the threads which were draped over the back of the rocking chair in a thick, entwining mass. Jack soon realised that this was hair. Long, retched and moving hair. The head attached to the ever-growing blanket of hair turned toward Jack, leering at him from over the back of the rocking chair. Jack felt the blood drain from his face.

The sickly grey face of an old woman stared into Jack’s soul, a grotesque grin splitting across her papery skin, her teeth cracked and rotting, and her eyes black and empty. CAW! The old woman shrieked, before bursting out into throaty, choking laughter. The crow jabbed its beak repeatedly into the silvery nest of the woman’s hair, plucking strand after strand from her scalp as though it were grooming her.

Jack wheezed, catching his breath before screaming out over the woman’s disturbing laughter. Jack fell backward, before finding his feet, turning on his heel and launching himself out of the cabin doorway into the cold forest air. Jack pounded his feet against the crunching forest floor and down the hill, not once daring to steal a glance over his shoulder.

Don’t you fall. Don’t you dare trip, Jack thought to himself as he frantically ran into the thick of the woods. Jack ran his fingers against his throat, grateful to feel the fresh air coursing through his lungs. When Jack pulled his hand away, a ribbon of silvery hair fell through his fingers and onto the forest under story. Jack cried out and recoiled, as though brushing away a thick net of spider webs.

“Jack!” Celeste emerged from between the trees and a look of horror spread across her face. “Jack, why did you go up there?!” Jack stumbled on his words. “You – you went first and I followed!” Celeste shook her head. “I told you to stay here and you wouldn’t listen to me. You just wandered up there by yourself like you were in a daze”. Before Jack could argue, Celeste thrust her arms around him tightly in an embrace that felt warm and familiar. “Please Jack, let’s just go home”.

Jack mustered up the courage he had left to peer behind him. The forest was black as night – the candlelight had disappeared and Jack breathed a sigh of relief.