An Evening Walk

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Sadie noticed the small flicker of light from her own room. There were only two cabins out here in this neck of the woods. Her father’s that sat at one end of the lake, and on the opposite side, the old and decrepit one she looked at now. She’d asked him once who owned it, but he didn’t know. He said it had been deserted long before they bought theirs. Sadie wasn’t even born.

Bored, restless, and no doubt reading a book she had read every summer before, the sixteen year old put down her novel and decided to go for an evening walk.

Her father cooked dinner downstairs in the tiny kitchen that just managed to fit a table for three. Although, they only used two place settings now. Sadie glanced at the made pullout couch her father slept on. She regretted that her dad insisted she have the bedroom. Sadie wished he would take the real bed. He deserved it more than she did.

“Dinner’s ready in 15 Hon,” he said without glancing at Sadie as she came down the stairs.

“Someone’s moved into the other cabin.” She told her dad as she slipped on her sandals.

“What?” He turned around now, making sure he heard her right.

“Look for yourself.” She pulled back the curtain to reveal the house across the lake.

But as her father inched towards the window, pan and spatula in hand, he squinted in confusion. “I don’t see anyone.”

“In the bedroom window, there’s a li-” Sadie stopped herself as she looked. The candle was out.

Her dad kissed the top of her head, “might have been the sun reflecting off the glass.”

It flickered, Sadie thought to herself. “I’m going for a walk before dinner.”

“Alright. Please just be careful around the lake. That path is caving in.”

“I know how to swim, Dad.” Sadie retorted.

“Still, Mark at the bait and tackle said some leeches have been popping up in the lakes.”

“Ew, seriously?” Sadie grimaced.

“They’re harmless, Sade. Just watch out.” Her father laughed, as though this hadn’t just permanently ruined Sadie’s ability to swim in the lake the rest of the summer. She left their cabin frustrated. She couldn’t lose the lake. The days were longer now and Sadie had nothing to do besides run, swim, read and play Boggle with her dad each night. They lost service about two miles out and ever since her mom left, Sadie didn’t find any of her old hobbies to be fun. In fact, Sadie didn’t find the cabin enjoyable anymore, but she would never tell her dad that.

Her father prided himself on his small portion of the forest. He said it was good for the two of them to get out here a couple of weeks at a time, take a break from social media and what he called ‘online suppression.’ Sadie’s mom didn’t agree, which is why she stopped coming on these trips, and perhaps why she stopped coming home at all. Having any sort of company would be a godsend.

Sadie knew she saw a candle; she was determined to find who lit it.

Cattails and tall grass brushed against her bare calves as she rounded the lake, edging closer towards the cabin. A mosquito buzzed uncomfortably close to her ear and she swatted into the humid air. Nothing besides the candle indicated signs of life. There was no car, no other lights, no open windows. Certainly whoever was in there would be suffocating from the muggy heat this time of year. The sun sank below the pine trees, but the dusky orange sky was bright enough to provide Sadie with enough light to find her way back, if she didn’t take too long.

Getting closer to the cabin, Sadie remembered how identical it was to theirs, an A-frame roof with Lincoln log walls, a side porch overlooking the lake and a couple of windows on every side, except for the bedroom on the top floor, which only had one window on each end. The latter was where the candle had flickered. Sadie walked through the unkempt lawn and truly saw how dilapidated the cabin had become.

As a child, her father warned her against playing over here to avoid splinters, and when she became a teenager, she merely lost interest. Within just a few years the structure looked like it had aged decades. Vines wrapped their way around the porch up to the roof, like at any moment, they might pull the cabin into the ground. The screen door had slumped off its hinges and sat lopsided. Each porch step was so warped and decayed, they looked like they would collapse at the smallest amount of pressure. Sadie slowly approached the property, trying to see anyone inside, but it was too dark to tell.

“Hello?” She called out, standing before the withered house. The crickets and toads that hid in the grass stopped chirping as though they too listened for a response.

“Hello?” Sadie called out again, her voice catching in her throat. When silence was the only reply, she started to doubt that she really saw the candle at all. The cabin looked just as empty as ever.

She walked towards the porch, her pace hesitant and second-guessing a closer proximity. As she placed her foot on the first step, the wood let out a loud groan into the quiet forest evening. Sadie could have sworn a soft voice spoke out behind the screen door, but it got lost in a light breeze that blew past. She crept closer, lifting her right foot, then her left, her body unwillingly getting pulled in. Her subconscious yelled for her to turn around, clawed at her limbs to move the other way, but her body obeyed something else. With each creak and screech, Sadie reached the ripped screen door and peered inside. She slowly pushed her face into the netting, hand on the door knob, forcing her eyes into focus.

“Sadie,”

Someone quickly hissed her name right through the screen.

The low and husky voice was only inches away, as if it appeared out of thin air. Sadie could feel its breath on her face, causing her to stumble back and fall into the porch railing. The wood gave way with a large crack. Sadie fell onto the ground, her wrists slamming into her forearms as she instinctively braced for impact. The voice spit out her name once more.

“Sadie!”

Slowly, the door started to open, sending Sadie scrambling backwards on her hands and feet. A monotone shrill from the hinges taunted her as she pushed herself up. Sadie stood in complete paralysis until the door came to a stop.

Then, silence.

She watched, keeping her eyes on the door frame, not seeing anyone or anything. Yet she had the innate feeling she was staring directly at something. And that whatever it was, it was staring back at her.

“Sadie!” Her father yelled from across the lake.

His voice was so distant, she almost didn’t hear it. As Sadie turned to see her dad’s flashlight beaming from their front door, the screen slammed shut.

This was the time to run.

She fled, flattening the untouched grass on her way to the path, unsure if whatever was inside was now outside. Her legs used muscle memory to carry her back along the lake. She sprinted just along the edge, her feet knowing exactly where to land so she didn’t tumble in. Branches and shrubs cut at her exposed skin but did nothing to deter her speed. Breathlessly, she reached her father at their own cabin.

“What happened? Are you okay?” He reached for her and Sadie stretched to take her father’s hand when he was suddenly thrown into the wall. An invisible force barreled into him, crushing his back hard enough to hear multiple bones release a soft crunch.

Sadie’s father slumped over. The flashlight fell to the ground, rolling back and forth on the porch. One second of silence passed by, then two. But on the third, Sadie screamed at the top of her lungs as she kneeled down beside the body.

“Sadie.”

This thing had followed her, whispered her name right in her ear. Sadie swung at the air, backing against her dead father, away from something she couldn’t detect. She waited, eyes darting everywhere, desperate to see it, to know where it was.

Sadie managed to silence her sobs, tried to quiet her breathing so all her senses were alert, but nothing happened for minutes.

Normal sounds of the forest returned. The bristles of the pine needles brushing together, the distant coo of an owl, and the soft ripple of the lake all suffocated Sadie in a peaceful terror. The voice never returned, but there was a presence close by, waiting for Sadie’s next move. She could feel them watching.

Sadie sat there shaking, contemplating her options. Eventually, she came to the conclusion that she could either remain sitting or get up to use the satellite phone. She would die doing nothing or die walking the two paces to the kitchen.

Like an animal that had been playing dead, she slowly stood up, pausing at each sound, waiting to hear her name hissed into her ear. She felt a placebo prickle on every hair on her body, expecting the thing to come at any angle.

Sadie walked backwards, careful not to trip over her dad, keeping her eyes on the outside. The phone was only a few feet away on top of the refrigerator. After what felt like hours, she reached the emergency call device.

She started to hit the dial button when one of her father’s legs was violently lifted up and hoisted forward. He collapsed onto his back into the cabin. Sadie dropped the phone and bile rose into her throat from the distorted shape of his neck.

Whatever held his foot dragged him down the porch steps and onto the front lawn. It was pitch black out now. Sadie merely saw the last of his head heaved through the dirt, under the glow of their house lights and into nothingness. She heard the delicate splashes of something stepping and tugging in the water.

He was pulled into the lake.

A silent “no” escaped from Sadie’s lips. She sprinted after her father, determined to retrieve his body. Every instinct told her to stay away from the lake but she sprinted and dove into the watery abyss to retrieve the one person who took care of her, even if he was dead. The moonlight did little to help her vision but she shuffled the muddy bottom with her hands and feet, desperately trying to feel for any part of her dad.

He had to have been brought to the middle, too deep for Sadie to even attempt to look. She wailed into the night, letting her tears salt the water. For a moment, Sadie considered swimming into the center herself, permitting her own life to be taken, either by this thing or the lake. Until she felt something slick brush against her ankle.

Hair.

Sadie froze, willing herself not to look. But then a solid mass nudged into her, like whatever it was wanted Sadie to glance down and acknowledge its presence. Holding her breath, she forced her gaze down. With her pupils now adjusted to the night, Sadie could see long dark hair floating outwards like an aquatic mane, and it was attached to a badly decomposed body.

The eyes were gone and stringy flesh clung onto the skull. As the bloated figure floated to the surface, she noticed it was just the top half; the legs were somewhere else revealing the base of the spinal cord.

Sadie did vomit this time, turning her head to avoid the corpse. She convulsed and wretched as her inner liquids spread around her.

She knew it was her mother who bobbed against her knees.