The Disappeared.

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

The girl instinctively knew something wasn’t right as soon as she saw it. But she was far too cold to heed anything other than the draw of the burning flame.

She stepped off the trail, through the trees and towards the candle in a trance.

The log cabin was small and old. Several windows held shattered glass. Overgrown grass poked through the broken porch. The front door threatened to fall off the hinges. Abandoned. The word echoed in her mind.

She heard the story of an abandoned cabin in these woods from her classmates at school. She suspected they were trying to taunt her. She was used to that. Being the new kid in school wasn’t exactly conducive to making real friends and she moved around a lot. Her mom couldn’t quite hold down a job in any city they moved to. The girl found more often than not she disappeared out of her current life only to reappear in a new one.

Most of the lore she heard passing through the blur of towns were local legends or cautionary tales that parents concocted to scare their kids into behaving. But the one that flickered into her mind tonight wasn’t one of those. It was merely the story of a witch who collected lost souls from her former home in the woods, whenever a lit candle appeared in the window. They kids called these souls “The Disappeared.” The girl rolled her eyes at their attempt to spook her. They would have to try harder than that.

The girl knew she was desperate, her rational thinking dwindled against the cold. A casualty of the human body in imbalance against the elements.

Her hand hovered above the rail in hesitation. She looked back towards the trail. The only other light was from the sliver of the waning moon and the stars peeking between the clouds. She could hear them begging her to walk the other way. The flame flickered in the window again. She reasoned with herself that the story couldn’t be true. The townies wanted to taunt and scare any new blood who would listen to their age-old tales. Besides, she had to warm up if she wanted to make it through the night. She had spent too long traversing the forest to do anything else.

The wind picked up, chilling her skin to the bone as if to confirm this. There was no way she could walk away now. The wind swept her up the stairs as she walked to the door. She could see inside ever so slightly through the crack between the frame and the broken door. It was pitch black minus the small cloud of lambent light that shone off the candle. Knock. Knock. Knock. The whole forest seemed to quiet as her knuckles hit the wood. Silence. With a deep breath, she pushed the door open.

The creak of the door made her heart jump in her chest. Its thumping was the only sound she could hear as she stared into the room. It was empty. There were no signs of life except for insects and squirrel droppings. The carpet was moth ridden. Cobwebs painted the ceiling corners. A thick layer of dust settled over everything. The fireplace was empty. Crumpled newspaper littered the floor. An uneven couch sat in disarray. A small fridge hung open. And most importantly, there was no witch.

Relieved, she rushed over to the candle. She tried to hold her hands over it, her body craving its warmth. But there was no heat. Suddenly, the door slammed shut. The candle went out as if it had never been lit at all.

Dread immediately coursed through her body.

It was in that moment she knew she made a terrible mistake. She felt around the walls for anything. A lantern. A light switch. Matches. She landed on something that felt like some sort of nest. As she tangled her fingers into it, she realized they were stringy, curls of hair. She gasped and snapped her hand back.

A low guttural growl rang out.

The girl fumbled back in shock. She tripped on a low table and fell to the ground, hitting her head.

Out.

The girl heard mumbled nonsense and then a whimper as she stirred awake. It was still pitch black, but her eyes were beginning to adjust to the dark. As she sat up, the mumbling came to a hard stop. All she could hear now was heavy breathing and her heart attempting to jump out of her skin.

A raspy voice whispered, “what are you doing here, child?”

Tears streamed down the girl’s face. “I’m lost. I was exploring the woods by myself, but I got lost.”

The raspy voice croaked, “You’re not lost anymore, child. You can join the others.”

The old woman’s body floated over in front of hers. The witch opened her mouth, her warm, putrid breath clouded the girls face. The girl stiffened, she compelled her body to run, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. The witch had her prey paralyzed in the corner of the room. The girl heard squishing sounds and the witch’s jaw slowly unhinged. The crack sounded through the cabin. She leaned over the girl and inhaled deeply.

Then, there was nothing but silence and the flicker of a candle in the window.