Lullabye on Repeat

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. She waited for a sign of life, a shadow, a shift of a curtain. She waited for an hour. Nothing. She looked at the clock, 11:11pm, her parents were not due to come home for at least another hour. She had waited what felt like a lifetime. She was also aware of what would happen the moment she set a single toe out the door, without their permission first. The cabin was close enough to run to, yet distant enough that there was plenty of room for error. She knew they set the alarms before they left. She knew they would be watching her just as they would if they were here. But she had a plan, she’d waited years for tonight.

She flicked the lounge room lights three times, exactly like she was told to, and ran upstairs.

Red jumper, a torch, the golden key and three knives.

On repeat through her mind, as it had been all this time. She’d been waiting for tonight.

She tore open the double doors of her bedroom closet, rummaged through the top drawer of her desk, left in purposeful clutter. She dropped to the floor and in one swift movement, pulled herself under the bed and could easily lay her hands on the three knives, spaced out equally and taped down with intention in between the slats of the frame. She didn’t need light to see where they were, she knew their placement perfectly. She checked they were there every day. She’d been waiting for tonight.

She threw each item on the bed but unsheathed one of the knives with her mouth, and walked towards her pile of innocent stuffed bears in the corner of her room.

“Sorry, Walter”, she muttered, and no sooner stabbed him in the centre of his chest, scooping his white stuffing out of his tiny body and revealing the key that she had sewn into him years ago. She knew the cameras could see this all play out. She knew they could watch her. She’d been waiting for tonight.

She ran across the wide hallway to the library that overlooked the woods. The candle still burning brightly. She pressed the torch so hard against the window in anticipation that she could have pushed straight through the glass. One. Stop. Three. Stop. Two. The cabin instantly went black, absorbed by the darkness of the night, consumed by the woods. Like it never existed in the first place. She’d been waiting for tonight.

She leapt down the staircase, taking two at a time, with the loudest of thuds, making it to the landing, and running straight to the entrance. She took a look back at the last camera, pointing squarely at the front door, right where she stood and raised her watch in front of her face. She’d been waiting for tonight. Three minutes and forty seconds. She set the timer, ripped open the door and immediately triggered the alarms. They consumed her mind, her beating heart, they installed a level of fear that she didn’t think was possible throughout her body. Three minutes and thirty-three seconds. She had to run. She knew the dogs would be released from the back corner of the grounds, but quick enough to reach her if she hesitated for too long. She’d waited too long for tonight.

She had a ringing in her ears from the relentless siren but could begin to hear the barking of blood thirsty hounds coming for her. They had not been fed for days. Her legs took ownership of her actions and she leapt off the top step and away from the door, in the direction of the bordering woods, towards the cabin, to what she hoped was finally freedom. Her thoughts suddenly disrupted by the aggressive growl of the beast at her heels. The other two in close pursuit, but mere outlines in such darkness, making their movements more unpredictable and deadly. Three knives for a reason, she had the upper hand this time. She’d waited too long for tonight.

She also chose to became unpredictable in her movement, veering towards the leading dog rather than creating distance. She felt a surge through her legs as she pulled ahead, directly in front now, before stopping dead in her tracks, twisting around to face it, pointing the blade of the knife in front of her, waist height, watching the last minute fear in the animal’s eyes, realising its fate within milliseconds. She moved with its final force, a fatal dance in the air, as she pushed her hand into its chest and let go, it landed on the dewy grass without a further flinch. Two minutes, thirty seconds. The other two were close now. Locating the silhouette of the cabin once more, she began to run again.

The pain in her thighs began to build as she processed her next move. She hadn’t planned for the two of them to be running so intently together. Two against one, and the cabin felt no closer than when she was at the front of the house. Her prison. The hounds were clever, not what she expected, and split from each other, running besides her, trapping her between them. She realised she had no choice but to change direction and run towards the main gates, and put more distance between the cabin and these vicious canines, only to have her distracted by dancing lights in her eyes. Headlights. They were arriving home early. Much too early. This was never in her plan. The high beams danced across the gravel drive, providing enough light to determine who was the closest to her. She felt the second knife in her jacket pocket, realising the next victim was within arms reach. It too, had the same realisation and launched towards her, catching the back of her shirt in its mouth and pulling her abruptly to the ground. She screamed in fear. Blood curdling and piercing. Enough to stop the car in its tracks ahead of them, but not enough to halt the teeth sinking into her arm that held the blade, or to prevent the slowest hound from attacking her right leg and dragging her through the gravel, determined to pin her with no option other than to surrender.

She heard the doors of the car open and the crunch of the stones under their feet. The timer on her watch alarmed. Her body being pulled in several directions. This was never in her plan. She felt the dog at her leg momentarily become distracted in looking for acknowledgement from its owner. Enough time to pull back and thrust the heel of her boot into its face, and grabbed the third and final blade out of her pocket, turning over and driving it into the side of the dog who was mauling her arm. It yelped in shock, collapsed in submission and she felt it release her arm from its jaw, her hand still holding the final blade in the tightest fist. There were yells from the direction of the car. This was never in her plan. She looked up and caught the eyes of her parents, still far enough away, and shifted behind the third hound. Maintaining eye contact, she made one final swift, horizontal flick of her wrist, catching its limp body and laying it to the ground. A warning shot to them, do not come any closer. She was unsure of what blood she could taste in her mouth, her own or the three guard dogs she had slaughtered. Her father sneered with premature triumph. This was never in her plan.

“Rock-a-bye-baby, on the treetop”, he sung out.

Her Mother began laughing her most sinister laugh.

“When the wind blows, the cradle will rock”. He began to walk confidently towards her.

“When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall”. He reached her.

“And down will come baby”. He towered over her. “Cradle”. Dragging one finger slowly down the side of her face. “And all”, he whispered. He took the blood stained finger to his lips and licked it clean with a menacing smile.

He snapped his arm forward to grab the last knife from her hand but she contorted away, slashing his arm with the blade, distracting him for a moment. An involuntary scream tore out of her chest. Her last chance. She knew she could outrun him, even with her new injuries. She could smell the stale scent of hours of alcohol consumed on his breath. She needed to make it to the woods. To the cabin. To the light.

The pain shot through her with each step she took. Like hot swords stabbing her in several places. She had to ignore them if she would make it. To the cabin. To the light.

She heard them yell after her, she could make out the sound of them returning to the car, doors slamming. They would need to fetch torches from the house; no vehicle was able to make it through the woods. She had a fighting chance.

She reached the door of the cabin. Knocked with no answer.

“Come on”, she yelled.

This is why she made the second key. The golden key. To the cabin. To the light. She felt its outline against her thigh and dove into her pocket to retrieve it. She slotted the key into the lock, it turned perfectly, the latch gave way. She had entry. To the cabin. To the light.

Ahead of her was pure black, she closed the door behind her. She stood silent in the space, holding her breath. She already knew she was not alone. She moved further into the centre of the room.

“Stop”, a voice in the dark muttered.

“I need to see you”, she begged.

“It’s been years”, she continued to plead.

“Stop”, a voice in the dark repeated.

“We create too much movement, create light, they will see. They will know. Do you want this to fail?”, a voice in the dark threatened.

“No”, she cried out.

“Then pay attention”, a voice in the dark took lead.

A plan was laid out clearly. The final escape route was repeated back and forth. She ripped strips off the remainder of her shirt and used them to tie off above her bleeding wounds in the hope they would stop her blood loss and perhaps not give away her escape route. She put on her red jumper. The agreed sign that it was her and no body else. She was the item to collect. She was ready.

The shadow in the cabin moved past her and softly out the door with a gentle click. She was alone and told to wait. She was ready. Being careful to not show any signs of life, no shadows, no shifting curtains. She took a chance to look back at the mansion. The lights on in several rooms, rooms filled with such horror and pain. The overwhelming need to run away from this place. She was ready.

She already knew the voice in the dark belonged to her brother. He was just a child when he escaped. She replayed his promise in her mind every day since. I will be back for you. So much time had passed that his voice was much deeper now, but the plan was never to change. The candle in the cabin would ignite when he was ready. And now, she was ready. She let her fantasies play out in her mind whilst she consciously farewelled her past, laid out right there in front of her. She was ready.

Suddenly, the lights in the house all went out. There was a piercing scream not far from where she was. There was no longer any source of light. Her eyes were madly adjusting to her exterior. She leant closer to the cabin window, her breath fogging the glass. Silence. Utter, terrifying silence.

Without warning, a hand slammed against the window, directly at her face, another hair-raising cry filled the air, but now it was at the cabin door. She ran forward to grasp the handle which was already beginning to turn. She threw her body weight ahead of her, desperately holding it firmly closed. Manic laughter from her Mother filled the cold night. Beams of light from torches shot through the window, catching her face and blinding her. She had no idea what was waiting for her on the other side of the door. She flicked the lock across, it’ll hold for just a moment. She had to be quick.

She spotted a log from a travelling light beam and grabbed a hold with both arms, throwing it at the window, creating her only exit. She crawled through, glass shards scraping her face. New blood. She just needed to make it to the final point. She was ready.

She knew she left them back at the cabin. Their own noise stifled the sound of the window shattering. They were still determined to catch her, thinking she was inside the room, hiding like the little girl they knew. The little girl they abused. Or at least, so they thought. She was ready.

She ran through the bushes in the direction that she could only hope was the right one. She needed to find the road. Pitch black. The dead of night.

She felt like she was running across an endless hour. She worried that she was running in circles. Determination paid off, she detected the road under her aching feet. As she was told, she pulled the torch back out and pointed it down the road, in the direction she wanted to go. Pitch black. One. Stop. One. Stop. Three. Two. Stop. She repeated the code. One. Stop. One. Stop. Three. Two. Stop. She remained in darkness. Pitch black.

Come for me.

She turned back and looked at the mansion. The lights were back on. They had retreated. In the distance, she could hear a car engine. She rushed to turn around and pointed the torch down the road towards her freedom. One. Stop. One. Stop. Three. Two. Stop. On repeat, again and again. She stood in the darkness. Pitch black.

She could vaguely see the faint sign of car headlights approaching her. One. Stop. One. Stop. Three. Two. Stop. Pitch black.

It’s me. You’ve come for me.

She began to run towards the car as its arrival became evident, blinding her with its high beams. It looped widely around her to face in the direction they needed to go. She heard the doors of the car unlock, a sound indicating to get in. She found the handle of the rear door first and didn’t think twice. Ripping the door handle open, slamming it behind her. Pitch back.

“What are you waiting for? GO!”, she demanded.

The car idled. The ignition was shut off. Pitch black.

The strike of a match and a candle was lit. The candle that was once burning in the window of the cabin. The flame flickering against the sinister laughter of its carrier.

“Rock-a-bye-baby, on the treetop”, he whispered.

“When the wind blows, the cradle will rock”. She panicked.

“When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall”. The car doors locked.

“And down will come baby…”

“NO!”, she screamed.

“Cradle”. He blew out the candle.

“And all”. The last sensation she felt was a blow to the side of her head, filled with a brief explosion of searing pain.

Pitch black.