Horror
This Time Around
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. "Mmm...hmm...mmm. Hmm mmm." The woman softly sang to herself as she lifted a bag of fresh flour out of her grocery sack and placed it on the counter top. "Oh. Dear!" She reached out to steady the misshapen flour sack as it slowly tipped over on the uneven surface, dusting the already dusty wood with the softest layer of white. With a free hand she bent down to grab a clean cloth from under the table. "Hmm...mmm." The woman continued to hum to herself as she wiped away at the dust.
By Kelly Janus4 years ago in Fiction
Cabin #8
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Grace was supposed to be babysitting that night, but she had snuck out as soon as she'd put the kids to sleep. There was a party at the old campgrounds, and Randall was going to be there. And if he was going, then she sure as hell was too.
By Nathan Sanders4 years ago in Fiction
Mint Green Tea Cup
Chattering is heard in the distance and one of the women licks her lips, seemingly hungry after all the socialising she's done. Nearby, a woman sits immobile in the parlour. Her hand rests upon the handle of a delicate mint coloured tea cup. Her eyes, lifeless and unfocused, do not make contact with those of the other women gathered around the room. She drools ever so slightly and her chest occasionally rises, the only sign she has the faintest flicker of life remaining in her body. There is no tea in her cup. No, it is her brain which has soaked up the boiling water, through a hole, dainty as can be, pierced right in the middle of her skull. The lobotomy is barely visible, as her hair is piled upon her head in the most lavish of manners. If not for her drooling and incapability to react to stimulus, one might even think the woman was just tired or dazed, as she was also dressed in the most elegant finery imaginable. Her neck and arms, adorned with jewels, sparkled in the light of the parlour. As the woman keeps her gaze on the nothingness she seems to be staring at, one of the surrounding women, a much older madam, abruptly clears her throat and gestures for the mingling women around to take a seat. None pay any attention to the woman with the mint coloured tea cup. No one, however, sits at her table either. Instead, they whisper to each other in hushed tones, regarding the unmoving woman in the center of the room (as the tables positioned in the parlour were disposed so as to form a circle with one table in the middle) in an almost reverent way. Or maybe the gaze the women cast upon her may be more comparable to a hungry one. But hunger for what?
By Caroline Ghenadenik4 years ago in Fiction
The Ghost of Fire
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. When this candle lit up, scratches could be heard across the glass surface of the window. It was a dark and stormy night when two characters appear. Both wearing raincoats obscuring their faces, one significantly taller than the other one, the shorter one leading the way.
By Jeremiah Ellison4 years ago in Fiction
The Cabin, The Veil, and The Deceptively Sweet Pie
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Soon after the candle emitted its deceptively inviting glow, opaque black smoke rose from the chimney, billowing like haunted sails of a ship through the late evening air. It darkened the sky, shielding the stars, as children played in the creek nearby.
By Arielle Irvine4 years ago in Fiction
It Takes A Village
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Scarlett stood looking out into the forest around her, wondering how long she would have to wait. The baby was crying. Again. Still. “Shh, little one, shh,” she rocked the infant back and forth, back and forth. “Daddy will be here soon,” she said, hopefully.
By T. L. H. Auty4 years ago in Fiction
No One Could Ever Hear Us
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The candle burned for nearly three hours but I was killed within the first. I could not help my poor lifeless body as he cut it into pieces with his well cleaned silver axe, a flash of moonlight reflecting off it with each swing in the near-completely dark cabin. My arms were placed to one side away from me and my legs were placed on the opposing side. Flames of pain surged through my right hand and consumed me as I screamed in terror, not realising at this moment that no one could hear me. The curtains flailed as I screamed and the soft breeze inside whirled to a wail but stopped when I felt a drop from my hand. I looked at my own hand and saw no change but upon glancing at my disfigured form saw the killer was also a thief as he took my pinky.
By Grace Barbic 4 years ago in Fiction
Carousel
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The absence of sound was matched by the complete absence of moonlight. Outside the cabin it was impossible to determine what was ground, trees nor sky. Only the candle light showed a brief path towards the cabin. Amongst this dark universe, moments were not measured as none existed. Only the flicker of candlelight implied any passage of time. And so it was for what seemed like an eternity. A single flickering star against an ancient landscape.
By Hala Giles4 years ago in Fiction
