The Missing Ingredient

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

Joey Riley might not have noticed it at all if he hadn't hit the sharp stone on his bicycle and gotten a flat tire at the very spot on the dirt road where there was a gap in the dark forest where the old path came out, and you could look right in and see the old log building, rotting away. Blink and you miss it if you're driving by.

A candle is normally a welcoming sight, don't you think? The warm orange glow a deeply pleasing reminder of sitting by a crackling fire on a cold winter's night, or of birthday lights dancing on a cake. Make a wish.

Maybe that's why the old lady put it out, to draw in her victims like moths to the flame.

Well at that moment I bet Joey sure wished he hadn't taken the spare inner tube out of his backpack that morning so he could fit in the extra comic books. Spiderman was no help to him by the side of the road, unless he were to show up in person and spidey-swing Joey away with his broken bike in tow.

He was still several miles from home, and the night was closing in fast. A creeping mist began to rise from the wetland on the other side of the road, and Joey felt a chill run up his spine in the growing damp. He must have looked up the path towards the candle-lit window and thought, what the hell. Maybe he thought whoever was in there could give him a lift home, or maybe call his parents to come and pick him up.

Joey picked his way along the overgrown path until he reached the front door of the old cabin. As he got close the light changed, all the warmth that remained of the summer afternoon fell away suddenly and he shivered once more.

Joey pushed open the creaky door and called out, "Hello?"

There was no answer. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. That was his second mistake, the first one being when he decided to approach the old shack in the first place.

Now it is fairly well known that some children died in that log cabin, a decade or so before poor Joey came by on his bicycle on that fateful day. Their mother was a cook, obsessed with recipe perfection and always seeking the very finest and tastiest ingredients for her culinary creations. One day she went mad and decided that the flesh of her children was the missing ingredient that her newest casserole just absolutely needed in order to be just right. So she butchered her two sons and added their meat to her bubbling pot.

The woman had been locked away in an asylum, and in due time the townsfolk forgot about her.

Joey didn't know any of this of course-- it's not a tale most parents want to tell their children-- or else why would he dare enter the cabin in the woods?

The smell of something delicious cooking on the fire made his mouth water and his stomach grumble.

"Hello?" Joey called again. The candle in the window flickered just then, and almost went out. When its glow renewed, something metallic lying on the table caught its light.

It was a long-handled knife with a thin blade. A filleting knife, Joey recognized the shape of it from his Dad's fishing tackle. Placed carefully beside the knife was a bowl and a large spoon.

"Hello my child."

Joey spun around at the sound of a thin voice, his heart pounding. A stooped old woman stood at the far end of the room, holding the candle that had been in the window. She walked towards Joey and placed the candle on the table.

"Such a lovely evening, don't you think?"

The woman licked her lips and smiled before saying, "So thoughtful of you to visit, Benjamin."

"M-m-my name isn't Benjamin," Joey stuttered, "It's--"

"But of COURSE your name is Benjamin, my silly boy," the old woman cut him off and pulled out a chair from the table, "Come now, have a seat. Let Mama get you a nice bowl of stew from the pot."

She smiled warmly at him and nodded towards the chair.

Joey thought about running to the front door and getting out of there. Despite her seeming kindness, the old woman was giving him the creeps. But he was hungry, and the stew did smell delicious.

He sat down and picked up the spoon.

"That's better. Now where is that brother of yours?"

"Uh... I don't have a brother," Joey began.

The woman clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes and said, "Of course you do, Benjamin. But Tommy is late for dinner, and he will go to bed hungry tonight. It's a shame, really; this is my very own special recipe that I spent all day making. You'll have to let me know what you think. But first, one last ingredient is needed."

For a moment the old woman's hand hovered over the knife, and Joey froze. But her hand kept moving until it came to a small oval mirror, which Joey hadn't noticed until now. She lifted it by the handle.

"Come, Benjamin. Take a look here and tell me what the recipe needs."

Joey peered into the mirror and then realized it wasn't a mirror at all. Upon its glass surface, Joey saw a very delicious and juicy-looking joint of meat.

Beef, perhaps, or pork? Joey couldn't quite be sure.

"Um, I think it needs some meat, Ma'am," he said.

"EXCELLENT!" the old woman shrieked in delight, "That's exactly what I was thinking!"

She picked up the knife and held it out to Joey.

"You do the honours, my boy."

Joey touched the knife, and that was when he fell completely under the woman's spell.

* * *

When the police eventually found Joey's body, they concluded that he must have been deeply disturbed, because there were great chunks of his flesh missing and there was no evidence of a struggle nor any defensive wounds. Everything pointed to self-mutilation. He lay on the floor by the hearth in the old cabin, which was completely empty except for an old rusty pot sitting in a cold deserted fireplace, long since bereft of ashes and coals. There was nothing in the pot, except for chunks of Joey's flesh. He had bled to death, with his fingers wrapped around a filleting knife with the name Benjamin inscribed on the handle.

"That's the name of one of those poor kids that crazy lady killed back in the day," one of the officers observed.

"Killed her own children and ate their flesh before she got locked up. Can you believe that?"

Can you?