Hunger

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. It was a lonely waxen stump, with creamy beads of frozen time stretching down its shaft and a tiny flame dancing upon its tip. The candle was a false beacon, a lure, and it worked its terrible magic on everyone who saw it.

The first to pass the cabin was a young couple, Maggie Phelps and Charlie Morrison. It was their first date, the first of many, Charlie hoped. It had taken a year to get Maggie to accompany him on a night out, and things had not been going well for he had borrowed his dad's car and it had broken down before they had even got to the cafe! As Charlie lived nearby – his house was just a quick jaunt through the woods – he figured he could get home and tell his dad about the disaster, get the car fixed, and still have his date as intended. At least it would be a date to remember. He wasn't wrong about that, at least, but for entirely different reasons.

Maggie had noticed the pinprick of waning light through the trees and pulled on Charlie's arm with her own interlocked elbow. “Hey, look there.” An outstretched finger guided Charlie's eyes to what had captured her attention. “There's a cabin.”

“Oh, yeah.” Charlie was a little confused. He only lived on the other side of the woods and couldn't remember there being a cabin out here. “Don't think anyone lives out here.”

“Really?” Maggie said. “What are you up to, Charlie Morrison?” In response to Charlie's blank stare Maggie batted her eyelashes. Charlie gulped. “So, your dad's car 'broke down' and we just happen to be passing a cabin with nobody inside, even though there's a candle in the window? I didn't know you could be so romantic, Charlie.”

Charlie didn't, either, but the look in Maggie's eyes made him think it was something he should try more often. “Let's go check it out,” he told her, his frantic heart overwhelming his good sense.

The door handle squeaked a little as the lad's trembling hand twisted it, the door swinging inward easily. A red-and-white chequered blanket awaited the young couple on the inside of the cabin. There was a basket holding two bowls and two glasses, a punnet of strawberries, and a bottle of wine.

“I'm impressed,” Maggie smiled. “After talking to Lindsey Dunny, I wasn't sure what to expect.” Lindsey Dunny was Charlie's ex, and she had dumped him because she didn't like how he kissed.

“Well, Lindsey Dunny doesn't know me very well.” Charlie shut the cabin door, thinking this was more than he could have asked for, that his luck had changed at last. It certainly had, and not for the best.

The next person to walk by the cabin was Grant Marsden. He was out walking his dog, a terrier called Mitch. At sixty-four, Grant was not a young man anymore. He'd had a hip replacement three years ago and came out here with his dog because his doctor had told him to keep exercising it, or it would stiffen up. Grant hadn't followed his doctor's advice but since his dicky hip started to play up, he soon changed his mind.

It was playing up now and Grant just wanted somewhere to sit for a while. His wife had passed last year, so he wasn't in a rush to be home. Nobody was waiting for him there. It was just him and Mitch now, and Mitch was just as worn out as Grant was.

“Hey, boy,” Grant said, noticing the warm flicker behind the glass. “Looks like someone's built a cabin out here. Let's go welcome them to the area. Might be they have some tea and a bowl of water.” It would be good to have someone to talk to, as well, Grant supposed. The kids rarely came round anymore, and hardly ever called to see how he was doing. Grant couldn't blame them, of course. They were much closer to their mother than they were to him, and with her gone, well, it was just natural, he guessed. It still didn't sit well with him that they didn't bother with him, and he missed them all terribly. He wished he could see them more often.

Grant hobbled over to the door and gave it a rap with his gnarled knuckles. “Howdy,” he called. “Anybody home?” There was no answer, but the door gave an inch and Grant pushed it wider. “Hello? Name's Grant, live a short walk away. You new 'round here?”

Inside the cabin was a rocking chair with a soft cushion on the seat. Next to it was a table with a kettle and a mug upon it. Hung from the wall behind the seat and table was a huge banner reading, “Hope you like it, Dad”, with balloons and ribbons and everything. Cards had been pinned to the walls. Grant counted one card for each one of his four kids and another for every one of his nine grand-kids. A little one with pink frills around it said it was from Lisa, his newly-arrived great-grand-daughter.

“How did you do this?” he asked nobody in particular. A tear swelled in one eye as he settled down into the rocking chair and poured himself a hot tea. This was better than he could have wanted, and was not sure if the family was waiting in the shadows to jump out at him like a surprise birthday, or something. It certainly wasn't his family waiting in the shadows.

Like a tiny knight clad in bright orange armour, the candle's flame fought to stay atop its melting turret, but like all candles the light burned out and was gone before long, just like the cabin. Did Maggie and Charlie find happiness together? Was Grant reunited with his family? No, for there was a reason Charlie could not remember ever seeing a cabin out here.

A dark soul was bound within the logs of the cabin, a dread spirit that sensed a mortal's wants and offered them hope. It drew them within itself, showing that which they were most hungry for before snatching it away from them. Those that ventured inside were lost to the world, trapped within the cabin's interior until all their hope was gone. Then, when sanity and terror was all that was left, then the cabin would feed.

So if you're out in the woods, maybe lost and in need of a rest, or exposed to the wind and the rain and want shelter, stay away from a cabin with a lit candle in the window. It might be more than you would want to find.