Tag, You're It

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Then another, and then another. Soon, the cabin housed enough light that any passing stranger could peer inside, past rotten planks of wood barely clinging to the window frames, and see the details of every cob-web covered piece of furniture that was left.

Hushed voices whispered across the small living room of the cabin to each other, as two teenage girls moved around the cramped space and lit even more candles. They were black, for protection, and they were placed sporadically on any flat surface the two girls could find.

“Last one, Rubes,” one of the girls called out quietly as she pulled out the remaining candle left in her green backpack, worn with use. She was short, with burgundy curls that framed her round face. Her small, dark hands were steady as she flicked on the lighter above the candle wick, a small flame coming to life and illuminating the freckles splashed across her cheeks.

Her taller friend, with dark brown hair that looked almost black in the quickly disappearing darkness, began rifling through her own backpack, gray and covered with pins. She pulled out a container of salt and began pouring it out onto the wooden floor, walking backwards as she created the beginnings of a crooked circle, leaving an opening wide enough for a person to walk through. Satisfied with her work, she adjusted her glasses and glanced over to where the last candle was being placed, low on a dusty shelf of a bookcase.

“Come on, Connie,” Rubes insisted, reaching into her backpack again. She pulled out a large board, spinly letters spelled out across the surface, images of celestial bodies painted on each corner with faces that came across as menacing, if one looked at them long enough. She placed the board artfully in the middle of the circle before wiggling her hand around the inside of her bag.

“Did you lose the planchette?” Conne asked, exasperation and amusement blending together as she slowly made her way inside the arch of salt.

“No!” Rubes insisted indignantly, shoulders hunching as the movement inside her backpack became more frantic.

Conne stifled a huff of laughter and sat on one side of the Ouija board, settled on just watching her friend and waiting for her to either find the planchette or give up, in which case Connie would go and reach into her own backpack to take out the planchette she had brought just in case. She loved Rubes dearly, but there were only so many times her best friend could lose vital pieces of their investigations before Connie had to start bringing extras to accommodate for her forgetfulness.

Luckily, the extra planchette would remain hidden in the front pocket of Connie’s backpack, preventing any offense that Rubes would surely feel, yet try to hide, if it had to be taken out, for Rubes triumphantly pulled out the small, heart-shaped piece of wood and carefully placed it atop the Ouija board.

“Told you,” Rubes muttered childishly, tongue sticking out between her lips as she readjusted the position of the planchette, trying to fit it in the space between the letters and numbers without it touching any of them. She realized it was an impossible feat after a few seconds too long, and eventually straightened up with a light sigh.

“Good job,” Connie drawled out sarcastically, but she accompanied her words with a light smile to let her know that she was just teasing.

“Shut up,” Rubes bit out, though there was no real venom in her voice. “Let me close the circle and then we can start.”

Rubes turned back to the container of salt and picked it up, raising it up to let the remaining granules fall onto the ground to complete the protective circle around them.

“How are you feeling?” Connie asked while she did this, thrumming her fingers against the floor beneath her. It was cold, as was the air around her, contrasting to the humid air that they had escaped from when they first entered the abandoned cabin.

Setting up was always the fun part, taking up most of their focus as they tried to do everything quickly while joking with one another to keep the mood light, and they never really properly checked in with each other and how they were feeling in the space until just before they were about to begin.

Rubes plopped down across from Connie and let out a contemplative hum, eyes darting around to really take in the setting. “I feel fine,” she decided. “What even happened here, again? Is this the place with the kidnappings?”

“Mmhmm,” Connie confirmed, suppressing a shiver. “Two decades ago, a man held six girls hostage here.”

“Wait, but did anyone die? Who are we expecting to talk to?”

“His brother died here,” Connie supplemented, mind racing as she tried to remember all of the details of the case she read online the day before. “He killed him, people think, but he never confessed to that part. Just the kidnappings and…well, what he did to the girls.”

Rubes frowned, uncertain images flashing across her mind. “Fucking sicko,” she grumbled.

Connie nodded in agreement, slowly reaching out to place her fingertips on the planchette, testing the feeling of it against her skin.

Rube’s fingers quickly joined her. “What about you? You feel okay?” she asked, shifting closer to the board.

Connie nodded again. “I’m fine. A little cold, but I don’t feel super unsettled about being in here or anything.”

“Good.” Rubes began moving the planchette in slow circles and Connie quickly fell into the movement, helping glide it across the board to wake it up. “So we’ll try to talk to the brother,” Rubes confirmed, glancing up to see Connie’s nod. “What was his name?”

“Shaun.”

“Alright, Shaun,” Rubes muttered, as though giving the spirit hopefully in the room time to prepare for their conversation. “Let’s do this.”

Rubes stilled her fingers, as did Connie. They breathed in a collective breath before nodding at one another.

“Is there anyone here with us?” Rubes called out, voice strong and clear. She kept her eyes on Connie, who met her gaze evenly as they waited with bated breath for movement underneath the pads of their fingers.

A minute passed, and then another, and then five. Connie could see the disappointment begin to cloud behind Rubes’ eyes, and the slight twitching of her lips. She was getting ready to call it quits, and Connie wouldn’t try to stop her. It had been a long shot, coming to a location with only one known death.

Then there was movement, subtle at first, but then the planchette began to slide up and over with increasing speed, stopping on Yes.

Rubes let out an excited huff of air, and Connie felt her lips pull up.

“Great!” Rubes exclaimed, trying and failing to hide how eager she sounded. “Thank you for talking with us! I’m Ruby, and this Connie. What’s your name?”

The planchette began to move across the board, the scraping sound of wood against wood loud in the otherwise silent cabin.

S

H

A

“Bingo,” Rubes whispered, mouth splitting into a grin.

N

N

“What?” Connie breathed out, eyes glued to the still-moving planchette.

O

N

“Sh-Shannon?” Rubes spluttered out, voice low. Her index finger twitched next to Connie’s but she managed to keep it on the planchette. “Who’s Shannon?”

“I don’t know,” Connie admitted quietly. She tried to run through the names of all the victims in her head, tried to remember if there was a Shannon pictured among their list of black and white photos, one after the other. There wasn’t.

“Did you die here?” Rubes asked then, confusion still painted on her face.

Yes

“I’m sorry,” Connie choked out, heart suddenly aching severely. It took all of her willpower to not clutch at her chest and a futile attempt to soothe it. “Were you killed?”

Yes

“By Drokit?”

Yes

“Drokit?” Rubes asked softly.

“Yeah,” Connie whispered, “the man who did all the kidnappings. Todd Drokit.”

The planchette moved so fast in response, Connie almost fell forward onto the board by the force of the motion.

No

“No?” Connie whispered, lips trembling. A chill, more intense than any of the ones that had passed through her before during that night, creeped up her spine and she couldn’t hide the way it made her body shiver.

S

H

A

U

N

“Shaun?” Rubes’ eyes widened. “The brother killed her?”

“I-. I don’t-.” Connie racked her brain, realizing that she hadn’t done much research on Shaun. She had only read briefly about how his body was discovered with the girls, the way he was mutilated by his own brother. She was too focused on Todd and the just as unfortunate, yet still living, victims, only sparing a single, sympathetic thought toward Shaun, who she assumed had been nothing but a victim as well.

Movement in the corner of her eyes caused Connie to jump. A gasp escaped her lips once she realized what exactly she was looking at, and she let go of the planchette on the board, bringing her hands up to her gaping mouth.

Rubes’ lips parted, ready to object at the broken connection, but then her head turned to look at what was causing Connie such distress, and she let go, too.

A planchette, another one, sliding across the bumpy wooden floor, no visible hands guiding its path straight toward the Ouija board. It was the one that was supposed to be tucked securely in Connie’s backpack, but someone – or something – must have taken it out. It paused at the line of salt, and Connie almost let out a relieved breath, but the barrier only held it off for a second. It slid forward with purpose, breaking up the white circle.

Atop the board, the first planchette began traveling by itself as well, its movements agitated, the scraping sound seemingly rising in volume the faster it moved. Its path was sloppy in its rush to get the word it was trying to say out, but it wasn’t hard to understand what it was.

R

U

N

R

U

N

R

U

N

Connie and Rubes watched, frozen with fear, as the second planchette made it onto the board. It didn’t stop moving until it found its intended resting place, answering Rubes’ last disbelieving question.

Yes

The chill that Connie felt deepened even more, causing her limbs to quiver involuntarily. She let out a silent cry as the second planchette then began to follow the first, mocking all three of them in a sick game of Tag, You’re It.

R

U

N

Rubes started to lift onto her knees, hands braced on the ground as she prepared to flee. How she found the strength to move, Connie had no idea.

“Connie, let’s go,” Rubes grit out between clenched teeth. “Get up, and then we’ll run, okay?”

Connie nodded, desperate to follow her instructions, but she wasn’t sure if it got lost in the tremors now covering her whole body. Did Rubes not feel this deadly cold? Did she not feel the ice creeping along her neck, or the way it must be making her throat tighten?

“Connie?” Rubes asked, frow burrowing as she realized that something else wasn’t right, something was holding Connie down.

“Ru-” Connie let out a sharp gasp, the tendrils of cold around her neck tightening like thin, bony fingers. She grappled at her throat, trying to pull away a hand that she couldn’t get a grip on, a hand that she had no proof was even there.

Realizing that there was no way to escape the hold Shaun – for she knew in her heart without a doubt that this was Shaun – had on her, she moved her arms away from her instead, reaching out for Rubes. When did she get so far away? She caught her gaze through her tears, pleading for her to help.

Though her vision was getting blurrier by the second, she saw the form of Rubes lunge forward, arms outstretched and a distorted snarl forming on her lips.

Their hands brushed, fingers curling around each other, and all of the lights in the cabin blew out in a single breath.