Haunted Hike

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Interesting. I walked this trail several nights before, but never noticed a candle. Actually, I never noticed the cabin. Twilight is slipping into night. I want a quick peak before I head back to camp. Branches crackle under my feet as I attempt to approach quietly. I don’t want to startle whoever is here.

“H-hello? Don’t want to scare you.”

The breeze responds, whispering against my ear. The candle’s light dances in welcome.

“Hello-o-o? Anybody here?” I chuckle at my choice of words. I am acting just like the idiots in the scary movies. Anticipating a response, I jiggle the knob and the door pops open. A bloody stench fills my mouth and clogs my nose. I gag and open my eyes wider, trying to see. The front room is dark and moist.

“My name is-”

BAM!

My knee crumbles into a short table; hands land on something sharp and wet. The wet stinks worse than the air around me. Looking for something to wipe my hands on, I notice a smaller wooden door in the back of the shed. Sudden footsteps behind me startle my brain into trying to think of something to say when I turn to see a tall, bearded man standing in the front door with an ax in his hand. I coughed out my introduction.

“Hello. I-I’m so sorry. I got a bit turned around on the trail. I saw your light and was hoping you could help me? I hurt my knee-”

Uninterested, he used the ax to prop the front door open. Behind him something lay still on the porch in a pool of liquid.

“Is that blood?!” I point anxiously.

He pushes past me to the kitchen. Inching towards the front door, I’m trying to see what is laying on the porch as he clamors through empty cabinets and drawers. Moving closer, it looked like a human but the face was blurred.

It felt oddly familiar.

“Who is that?” I yell.

The blurred face jerks towards me, barking “YOU! YOU! YOU!” I was looking at myself.

Suddenly the bearded man grabs the back of my head and shoves a dirty rag in my mouth.

Choking, I try scratching his hands but I can’t feel him. He kicks the front door closed and throws me towards the small wooden door.

“SOMEBODY HELP ME! HELP ME PLEASE!” I scream but before I could get back on my feet, he grabs me again. Every time I reach for him I miss! His grasp is firm and illusive. He launches me head first into the small wooden door.

Seconds later, I awaken to darkness, the heavy stench of feces and a large dirty rag mercilessly duck taped inside my mouth.

My head throbs as I attempt to see. It becomes clear, the hands and legs of human carcasses resting nearby. I begin crying and choking in defeat when suddenly I hear loud knocking and men yelling from outside.

"Hello? Is anybody home?"

They come through the front door.

"Mark, turn on your flash light. Does it look like anyone is here? Good grief, the room is empty."

The two men continue arguing as I try to break free from the ties on my wrists and ankles. What do they mean ‘the room is empty’? I can’t yell and I can’t move. The men keep talking.

"Gosh, it stinks in here. Can we just leave already?”

“You know the story of Old Man Jones used to stay here."

“Old Man Jones?”

“Yeah, they say he killed a couple people back in the day.”

“Here in this old one room shed? There is nowhere to hide a body.”

“Naw they found people in his cellar put in the woods. The police just found him in here dead. A heart attack or something.”

“Can we please just go? This place gives me the creeps."

"Fine, let's go.”

My heart sinks with the dull thud of the front door closing after the men leave. The small door to my tomb opens. Old Man Jones hovers over me, his beard swaying to and fro. His ax in his hand.