Doppelgänger

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the windows. The ground beneath the woman’s sneakers squished with each step as she assessed the haggard cabin, with it’s sodden wood and moss covered corners. The running path slithered away from her into the misty forest beyond, looking for an escape.

The woman’s heart rate, which only moments before had been thudding in her ears, now slowed to a dull rap against her ribcage.

“You know the cabin in the woods? It’s full of secrets”, lips sticky with marshmallow had whispered around a campfire many summers before.

“What kind of secrets”, she had asked, almost hoping an answer would not be returned.

“The kind of secrets that are inescapable, that haunt you years down the road, appearing in your nightmares and reminding you of what can never be forgotten”, they had told her.

The memory floated away with the rising mist as she took another step closer to the structure, eyes drawn once again to the flickering candlelight.

Hello? A feint, almost unintelligible voice whispered from everywhere yet nowhere.

Had the woman imagined the voice? She must have, for she was alone in the woods, save for the birds and other critters that crawled along the forest floor. It crossed her mind then, that there was no avoiding the mysterious candle in the window. The path spun out and around the cabin, nearly missing it before bending deeply, out of her line of vision.

The sweat from her exercise, which now set a chill skittering across her body, only facilitated the already-rising gooseflesh across her placid skin.

Hello? The voice whispered again, this time louder, more demanding.

There was no denying the call the second time, and the exacting tone was a magnet to her body that pulled the woman closer and closer.

Each step turned more precarious, more arduous. Soggy earth wished to pull her sneakers off with each approaching step; a feeble attempt to stop her from the impending circumstance.

How did the earth know, the woman wondered. It was all connected she supposed; the moss, the trees, the old cabin. Communicating with one another and bargaining for her misfortune.

The woman blinked and was suddenly upon the wooden doorstep, too nervous to step up in fear of falling through.

You won’t fall through…why don’t you come in? The voice encouraged her. The voice. She recognized the voice. Her insides both resisted and surrendered, her body willing and unwilling to cooperate with the command.

She slowly reached out her hand and grasped the brass door knob and everything was quiet. The birds stopped chirping, the peepers stopped sounding their mating call, and time stood still.

She turned the knob and as she pushed, the door made a deep groan, as if being awoken from a years-long slumber. Slowly, ever so slowly, the woman stepped up into the cabin and the door slammed behind her.

She jumped and whirled around, hands grasping for solidity in the dimly lit room. She fumbled for the door knob and came upon it, only hesitating momentarily before attempting to tear it back open. But of course, the door would not budge. She had expected as much and surrendered to her panting.

So…you decided to join me, the voice caressed like long fingers down her spine.

The woman turned toward the voice inside the room and realized why she had recognized it, in it’s attempts at luring her into the structure.

She recognized the voice because it was her own. Standing no less than 5 feet from the woman was…herself. As if the flood gates had opened, blood pounded in her head, in her ears. Fear unfurled up her back and made her hair stand on end.

“How…”, the woman grasped for the right wording before quickly realizing that nothing could make sense of what she was experiencing, save for a dream or a hallucinogenic trip.

Instead the woman screamed, loudly, hopefully loud enough for a passerby to hear.

The voice tsked.

Come now, it said, no one will hear your screams.

The woman sank to the floor shaking and near hyperventilation.

“Please,” she begged, “Please don’t hurt me”.

The voice took a deliberate step towards her, floor boards creaking with the movement as the woman’s sobs turned heavy and guttural.

Don’t cry. You have set me free, the voice said before spindly arms reached for the woman and everything went black.

She awoke on the floor as the cabin’s door quietly shut with a creak. She raced to the broken window where the candle had since burned out and saw a familiar body walking away towards the trail.

She lunged for the door and gripped the doorknob but once again the door would not budge. The woman went back to the window and pounded on the glass.

“Please”, she said through sobs, “Don’t do this”.

The voice, her face, turned around to give the woman a sinister grin, before the mist completely devoured her.