One

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

The cabin was nestled deep within a pine grove off the left fork of No-Man’s Trail. The trail paralleled a small creek that led hikers far out of the quaint, tourist town high into the Appalachian range.

The sweet scent of the pine grove was mixed with the aroma of the forest floor, beckoning to travelers as they waded through the maple, cherry, and oak leaves. A large willow tree rested along the creek’s edge, dipping its lazy branches into the gentle flow of the current.

Until the sun rained its last drops of light, there was an enchanted feeling. But since that one night…years ago…the veil of night buried the cabin in a blanket of shadows that hung over the forest in a palpable curtain of fear.

There were secrets that only the trees knew. Some say a dress made of black lace and ribbon had been found lying across the simple quilt placed on a stack of dead leaves. They say that the remains of missing hikers had been found inside the cabin with only piles of melted flesh that were vacant of bones as if they had been turned inside-out.

Dillon reached into his rucksack and softly placed the second candle in the center of a faded black circle on the plank floor of the cabin. Dillon, Drake, and Jaylin knew that they had to try to contain what they had conjured that one night. He arranged small mirrors forming the five points of a pentagram and placed a nest made of crow bones next to the central candle.

As he lit the candle, the sun made its final display of rays through the western forest floor. They sat around the flickering light in a committed silence, holding hands, wide-eyed, listening with more than their ears and watching with more than their eyes.

Jaylin and Drake recited words to invoke her and then softly began to chant, "One.One.One."

They could hear the pounding of their hearts above the snake-like whispers that began to come from the fireplace. It was too late now. They could not leave. They could not run. They could not scream. The conjuring had begun.

The flames flickered under the weight of the heavy air. Pillars of black smoke arose from the mirrors uniting as one above the flame.

A black transparent figure formed and floated above the floor boards. They had hoped that the crow bones would suffice as their offering to One, the dark witch.

There was a stench of decay and the sound of shrieks and screams increased as her form reached the ceiling of the cabin. They could hear the giggles of children coming from outside. Through the shattered windowpanes, peared two red-headed children with blue eyes that had no feet to touch the ground.

Suddenly both Dillon, & Drake felt a painful, internal, and relentless cold paralyze them. The tears rolled down Jaylin's face as she watched the boys lost their breath.

It was done. The crunch of bones, screams of pain, and prayers said far too late.

Then the silence of the night filled the pines.

The morning light lifted the day awake with bird songs that had not been heard in years. The willow by the creek seemed to sigh a satiated sigh of peace.

Half way up the largest hemlock, to the right of the cabin, was the small nest of crow bones.

Inside the cabin, chards of glass now decorated the walls and warm ash lie in the fireplace. Scattered bones with a small pile of stones were inside the faded black circle on the floor. Two piles of flesh lie near the bed of leaves and a neatly placed black lace dress rested on the quilt once again.