Welcome back, and hope everyone has been safe and healthy! For today’s writing challenge, the image of a log cabin was the the prompt selected by Danielle, my friend and other writer participating in these. Obviously, it’s creepy AF and kind of foreboding, so I went with what felt normal and went with a horror route. It’s not what I normally write, and I never got feedback from Danielle, so i’m curious to see what anyone thinks! What did I do right? What needs some improvement? What did you like? Didn’t like? Feel free to comment, or send me a message somewhere.
To anyone else, it would sound like a simple task that any normal being could do. To anyone else, it would quite literally be a walk in the park…or a log cabin in this case. Walk in, grab a ring, and get out. Simple as that, nothing to worry about right? Easy like Sunday morning, or even just getting out of bed most days.
The only difference here was you absolutely couldn’t look into the eyes of the horror that lived there.
No one really knows how it came to be or where it came from; it felt like some story told by the campfire or some fairytale kids were told by their parents in order to stay out of the forest at night. Some may look at it as some version of the Boogeyman, the Jersey Devil, or even Slenderman to some; maybe it had no face just like the internet myth. It was hard to say because no one survived long enough to catch a glimpse of whatever used that small bed of land in the middle of those ghostly woods as it’s feeding ground.
I have no choice but to walk closer towards the cabin. I can’t go back without that ring, but whatever it is, that thing took my wife who carried it with her.
The ground beneath my feet cracks, so my heart stops and I freeze as my eyes go straight for the ground. I’ve literally never felt my body so tense before, but as I peek up with one eye open, I’m honestly surprised I’m still alive.
Somehow it’s even more chilling how there’s still absolutely no sound at all. No calls from birds, no other living creature around; there wasn’t even a breeze to move the tree’s. Everything looked dead. Despite what I know, my eyes dart around, almost like I’m expecting to see whatever it is running at me through the trees, but the silence makes it even worse.
Legs barely able to move and I can finally breathe again, so I manage to make my way closer to the cabin. The fog lifts, as if it’s inviting me to come in closer, and I wish I could do anything else, but I continue ambling up to the log cabin.
The stairs moan as I ascend, almost like they’re begging me to stop, and I bite my lip. A bead of sweat runs down my brow, and I’m almost tempted to just bolt right inside already, I can’t take any more of the anxiety running through my veins, weighing down my chest, and the paranoia making me picture something like the freakin’ demogorgon jumping at me.
I swear it was like the air froze as I reached forward and clasp the knob, and I don’t think I will ever forget the sound of that creaking door if I can somehow make it out of this alive.
There’s no movement inside, only dark silhouettes all pushed against the walls. The air was thick with dust and there was a strange odor that instantly made me gag, but there’s still no movement or sound other than my steps as I hesitantly stepped inside…
Thanks for Reading!
— Nick Goodsell