Fortune Foretold

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

“Ugh, El, not another cheesy horror story,” Jean groans.

Eloise snorts before shrugging. “Alright, whatever you want. But our cells died about thirty minutes ago and it’s going to take forever for this fire to die down. Unless you’ve got some other idea, scary stories by the fire seems like a great pass time to me.”

“Oh shit, is El telling another ghost story? I’m in!”

Eloise looks past the light to Rodger and Jake coming back toward the fire. The bucket they were planning to grab water with seeming all too light with the way Jake was swinging it back and forth.

“No luck on the water, huh?” Eloise asks.

Jake shakes his head. “Nah, I thought there was a stream around here but…”

Rodger shrugs. “Not like it’s any loss. What’s an extra hour or so?”

“Ya know, I would’ve sworn that y’all were bringing some sand or whatever to douse this out,” Jean says, eyes narrowing at the guys.

“So, about that ghost story El?” Jake says, avoiding eye contact with Jean.

“Uh huh, you just don’t want Jean pissed off at you again,” Eloise says. She smirks when Jake nods. “Alright, well, gather round the, hopefully, dying fire and I’ll share one more tale. One I learned from my grandmother many years ago.”

Once everyone is gathered up, Eloise clears her throat.

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. It’s the light of that candle which caught the hunter’s gaze, for he knew these woods and knew that cabin held no life within. His curiosity overrode the hairs on end along his neck as he stalked closer to the dilapidated building, stepping over the bits of rotted fence by habit. Mentally he cursed the moonless night, for the flickering flame was the only break within the dark; and though his eyes were accustomed to the night, the shadows around the cabin consumed everything.

So engrossed in scanning and observing the cabin he was, the hunter missed the branch which had fallen in the last storm. A crack rang through the wood as it splintered under boot, and the hunter winced. Whoever was in the cabin now knew he was here.

Jean gives a small shriek when a tree branch snaps in the wood somewhere. Rodger puts his arm around her shoulders and calms her down while Jake glances at Eloise and shrugs. Eloise just smiles and continues the tale.

A breeze too cold for the season passed the hunter and the hairs on his arms joined the ones on his neck. But still he pushed on. He strained his ears, trying to discern any change from the normal nature around him. Nothing beyond the usual bugs and the slight crunch of ruined cobble beneath his feet. The flame of the candle danced, its glow a playful flicker. The hunter could smell the damp and rot of the wood from the cabin. Another breeze caressed the hunter, and he thought a moment to turn back, yet he wanted to know who was within the cabin. His footsteps thudded along the wooden steps of the cabin’s porch. Thudding a beat far slower than his heart was in his chest. The hairs on his neck and the urge within his soul telling him to run away were becoming more persistent. His curiosity continued to win out. After all, he’d come all this way, why turn around now?

“Why turn around now?” Jake says, his voice raising in pitch. “Why turn around now? Cause your ancestors are yelling at you to run bitch!”

Rodger is muttering under his breath while Jean shoves Jake’s shoulder. All three of them jump when it sounds like something scrapes against tree bark, their eyes wide and their heads turning toward the dark.

The hunter could hear the tree branches at the side of the house scraping along the side of the house, he could see the dust and dirt and leaves scattered along the porch of the cabin. The door was half missing, bits and pieces torn loose in the decades since this cabin was last a home. The hunter could hear something from within the cabin. Whispers of those within? Wind sneaking through cracks within the glass and walls? The hunter paused at the door. Who is inside? Are they friendly? Should he run? The light of the candle flickers in the window, waving for him to enter. The hunter takes a breath and nods to himself. He’s seen every manner of animal within these woods, and he knows he can defend himself from any kind of attack.

The hinges groan as the door opens. He knows that any stealth is ruined now. But there’s nothing within sight in the cabin. No people. No bags. Not even the forest debris within the cabin is moved. He looks around as he enters. There’s no one here. The candle continues to flicker and burn. The hunter turns to it and peers at the flame atop the black cylindrical wax. The light makes the shadows stretch and yawn, little teeth arching toward the light.

When the hunter tries to move toward the candle, his legs won’t listen to him. They’re anchored in place. His heart rams against his ribs. A chill runs down his spine. He cannot move. Cannot even look around. He’s stuck, the flame dances. He’s stuck, the shadows deepen. He’s stuck, the air cools. He’s stuck, and there are footsteps behind him.

Step.

His heart races.

Step.

His breath catches.

Step.

His fingers shake.

Step.

Fingertips touch his neck.

The hunter spins, his muscles releasing from their frozen state. An empty room meets his gaze, and his eyes widen. He’s about to turn and run out the door when he sees a shadow blocking the light of the candle. Someone is here with him. He hears no breathing or movement from them. There wasn’t anyone there. How is someone there? The hunter tries to think, tries to move. He can’t.

The shadow moves closer. There are no footsteps.

Fingers brush down his arm. There are no footsteps.

The shadow disappears. There are no footsteps.

Fingers brush along his cheek. The hunter sees nothing.

Fingers brush down his jaw. The hunter cannot move.

Fingers brush across his neck. The hunter cannot scream.

The fingers tighten. Grip turning from feathers to iron. He sees nothing but the cabin. He cannot move. He hears the sound again. Chanting echoing around the room. The grip tightens more, and he cannot move. A cold breeze passes him, and the candle goes out. He catches glimpse of the figure in front of him. A scream echoes, a wet crack sounds, and a body thumps. The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but tonight, a candle burns in the window.

“Oh god El, no no, no more,” Jean says, shuddering and rubbing her arms.

Rodger shrugs. “I don’t know. It was cool but wasn’t your best.”

“Man, I swear, why is it always stories about people who don’t pay attention to what their gut tells them? If your body is saying to get away, you get your ass away!” Jake says. He then turns to Rodger. “And don’t you act all macho, I heard you praying during that.”

“That wouldn’t make a good story,” Eloise says, trying to break up the impending bickering. When that doesn’t work she stretches as she stands, peering at the fire in the pit. It’s gone down to embers and she doesn’t think it should be a problem. Still, she reaches for one of the half full water bottles nearby and drizzles the water on the still glowing areas. The wood sizzles and spurts as the embers go out. She can hear the others shuffle about as they gather their things. She grabs her backpack and glances around in the dark. While the guys were right and it hadn’t really mattered that they stayed an hour later, they still probably should’ve left long before now. Finding their way is going to be difficult.

“Rodger, you’re leading the way, right? You grew up around here, so you know it best,” Jake says.

“Yeah of course.” There’s a shuffle, a slight impact, and then muffled curses from Rodger’s direction.

“Rodger, you good?” Eloise asks.

A slight groan. “Yeah, just stubbed my toes on a log. Hold on, I got something that should help us see each other since someone forgot a flashlight.”

“Hey, I said I was sorry! Don’t get Jean pissed off at me again!”

“Too late.”

Everyone waits for a moment before there are eight quick snaps. Soft orange light radiates from Rodger’s hands, and he holds up some glow sticks. Eloise takes two and hooks one onto her backpack and the other around her neck.

“Anyone else totally freaked out right now?” Jean asks.

“Hell yes.”

“Nope.”

“Not really.”

Jean sighs. “Well, at least you’re on my side Jake.”

“Alright, let’s get going. I don’t want to stick around more than we have,” Eloise says.

The four of them start walking and Eloise keeps an eye out on the group. Granted, Rodger has spent more time in the area than she has, but she’s spent more time in the woods than he has. She has to make sure they’re all going the right way. If they don’t, she just knows there are going to be problems.

After several minutes they hit a clearing and Eloise looks around before looking at the sky. She blinks, searching for the right stars. “Rodger, are you sure we’re going the right way?”

“Yeah, of course, we crossed through here on our way in,” Rodger says.

“We didn’t walk through a field going in,” Eloise says, her hands going to her hips.

Rodger tilts his head at her. “Uhh, yeah, we did. We came through this field specifically.”

“Are you completely sure? Because if we did, then we’re still in the wrong field. We parked at the northeastern side of the forest. The Perseus constellation should be visible,” Eloise says, pointing toward the sky.

“It is, it’s right over there!” Rodger points into the sky.

Eloise glances at where he’s pointing and raises an eyebrow. “Well, I’ll give you points for finding an actual constellation, but that’s Hercules, not Perseus.”

“Are they really arguing about star locations?” Jean whispers to Jake.

“Apparently,” Jake whispers back.

“Luckily, we should still be ok to guide our way back with that. Perseus is in the Northeast while Hercules is in the Northwest. So long as we keep going…” Eloise pauses to consult the sky before turning and pointing into the woods. “…that way, we should be fine.”

Rodger glances at the sky and frowns before shaking his head and shrugging. “Alright, if you say so. Regardless, we should be close enough to one of the roads that we can just follow that to the parking lot if we pop out at the wrong spot.”

Eloise nods and starts walking again, the rest of the group filing in around her as well. She tries to ignore that she’s now leading the group. Everything should be fine.

Lightning runs across the sky, thunder drums through the air, and rain begins to pour.

“Just great. It totally wasn’t supposed to rain tonight by the way,” Jean says.

“Let’s just get to the car,” Jake mutters.

The squelching of mud and thundering of the storm are the only sounds following them for quite a while. Eloise can tell that they should have reached a road at least by now and is trying to think of something to say when she hears Jean call out.

“Sorry, what?” Eloise asks.

Jean points to the right. “There’s a log cabin, we must be near the campgrounds, we can stay there for now. At least wait until the storm passes.”

“We shouldn’t be anywhere near the campgrounds,” Eloise says.

“We shouldn’t, but we are. Can we please get out of the rain? My hair is going to take forever to dry out,” Jake says, already heading toward the covered porch of the log cabin.

“Seriously, I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

Rodger snorts. “You tell one horror story involving a cabin and now you don’t want to go in one? I would’ve thought that Jean would need convincing, not you El.”

“That’s not—I’m not—” Eloise huffs. “Fine, let’s go stay in some random ass cabin and get in trouble. Don’t blame me if something bad happens.”

Rodger laughs as he follows Jake toward the porch. Jean just nudges Eloise’s shoulder and smiles at her before following the guys. Eloise stands in the rain for a moment later watching them before following. By the time she reaches the stairs of the porch, the other three have gotten the door open and have started entering the cabin. Jean is the last to enter and Eloise cracks her neck. She climbs the stairs, kicking the mud off her boots. She can hear muffled talking inside and shuffles along the floor. When Eloise looks to the door, it’s slowly closing and none of the other three have noticed. She shrugs off her backpack and sets it by the wall to the right of the door as the voices inside become louder and more panicked. The screams start as she pulls out a pack of cigarettes and lights one, sitting on the wooden bench and propping her feet on the railing. She listens to the screams and shrieks as she smokes, fiddling with her old Town Talk tobacco tin. A light catches her eye, and she glances over. The candle in the window is lit, and she smiles.