Shallow Grave

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Ethan eyed the window suspiciously. He has passed by the cabin many times while hiking in these woods. It was one of the landmarks he used to keep tabs on where he was. This cabin was in the middle of nowhere. Half of it had collapsed in on itself, the roof dipping down into what used to be the kitchen. It had ten square windows with rounded tops, all of which had broken panes of glass that had turned brown from grime. The wood of the cabin has taken on an earthy look, with moss, mold and vines growing over the logs and trim. Even a small tree was growing up out of the floorboards in the back of the house, taking the place of the staircase that used to lead to an upper level that did not exist any longer.

Ethan had seen this cabin since he first started hiking these woods when he was fifteen. Now that he was thirty-five, he barely even glanced at the cabin as he passed by while walking on the many trails he took in the woods, to relax and get away from civilized life. He knew the legends of the cabin though. The cabin was supposedly built on hallowed ground that was blessed by the tribe of Native Americans that used to live here. When a family settled and built here, the natives said that they had cursed the land with their presence, and by proxy, cursed themselves. That family ended up dying here from an odd disease that struck them down in a matter of days, and they were even buried behind the cabin itself. Whatever graves that were here have long disappeared.

Ethan was told when he first started hiking these woods that the area around the cabin was haunted, haunted by a spirit that had taken life because of the cursed land. Many beginner hikers would come to see the cabin, awe at its history, and move on. The trail guides all joked that if anyone was to spend the night in the woods, then it was best to never do so at the cabin. It was only at night that any sort of haunted activity could be seen.

Now, it was beginning to get dark. The shadows were growing long from the tall evergreens. The noises of the day were beginning to change to sounds of the night. Ethan heard crickets filling the tall grass, and frogs peeping from the small streams around the area. The wind was whistling through the branches of the trees, rustling the leaves on the boughs. It was the shadows that made it possible for Ethan to even see the candle glowing in the first place. He had been passing by to head back down the hill, and back into his car. But the candle had flickered as he passed. He squinted his eyes at it and took a step closer, just to make sure he was actually seeing the candle. It was definitely there though. It was a singular, thick white candle that was giving off a sputtering red flame. The flame itself was barely more than an ember. It was a miracle that Ethan even noticed it in the first place.

Ethan cast his eyes towards the sky, seeing it turn a deep indigo. Stars were just beginning to appear and the moon was clearly visible, looking brighter against the inkyness. It was later than Ethan originally thought it was. It was pretty rare for him to lose track of time like this. Ethan looked back at the cabin with the little candle burning in the side window. Perhaps he would camp here for the night. He heard of the stories of this place from the trail guides, but he didn’t believe any of them. If he stayed here and made it through the night without any incidents, maybe he could put all of their suspicions to rest. It would still be a couple of hours walk back to his car, and he did not care for the idea of walking around in the dark unless he had to. There were still bears and wolves in the area.

Ethan approached the cabin and carefully made his way into the open door. Inside was dusty, and there was nothing in the cabin other than debris from the roof. The floorboards creaked loudly beneath his feet, but the room that was directly by the door was clear enough. Ethan glanced about the room, inspecting the ceiling above. Despite being dusty and full of cobwebs, the ceiling seemed secure, at least for the night. The only thing that was in the room, which looked as if it was a living room at one point, was a very old sideboard that had two cabinets with missing doors. The only other thing in the room was the candle. This was the room that the candle was glowing from. But the strange thing was, the candle was not in the window anymore. Ethan’s brow furrowed, wondering if he imagined the candle. Perhaps he had seen the sun’s reflection on the broken glass? Otherwise, a candle couldn’t just vanish.

Ethan pushed the thought of the candle out of his mind, and he began to set up his camp. He had with him a one person pop-up tent, a sleeping bag, and his favorite compact pillow. He had tinder too, which he would be using tonight. Ethan was not happy that he didn’t make it to his car tonight, but he was glad that he would be camping away from the wind and any potential rain. Ethan put his tent against the wall of the cabin, halfway between the front door and window that he thought the candle had been. He set up his sleeping bag in the tent, placed his hiking bag in there, and built a tiny fire. He kept the fire very small, building it on top of wet dirt to keep it from igniting the floorboards below. He only wanted the embers for some comforting light until he was ready to fall asleep.

Ethan prepped all he wanted to get to sleep for the night. But before he did, he wandered the cabin for a minute. As he saw from the outside, what used to be the kitchen was inaccessible, and the door that would have led to a bedroom in the living area could not be opened. Where Ethan was staying was all that was left of the cabin, for he could not get to the upstairs either. Ethan made his way back to the living area and peaked around in the sideboard, the only piece of furniture that was left from the family that built the cabin. Ethan was not expecting to find anything, but he was surprised when he saw a piece of old paper sitting in one of the cabinets.

Ethan picked it up, and saw that it was not a paper, but a photograph, crinkled, yellowed with age, and even a little burned at the edges. The photograph featured a family, including a man with a large mustache, a woman in simple linen dress, and a young boy with a round face and overalls. No one in the picture was smiling, and they posed standing next to one another right outside the cabin by one of its windows. Ethan blinked and peered closer to the picture. The aging of the picture made it hard to tell, but he swore he could see the glow of a candle in the window behind them. A little unnerved, Ethan rubbed his eyes and headed for his tent, smothering his tiny fire as he went. He zipped up his tent, bundled up in his sleeping bag, and tried to will himself to fall asleep quickly. He would try to wake early tomorrow morning and put this cabin behind him.

Ethan had a hard time falling asleep, with the cacophony of the forest around him. It seemed especially windy outside, and he heard the rustling of the underbrush of the many animals that ran through the night. The cabin around him creaked and groaned, putting him ill at ease for making the choice of camping within its walls. But sleep did finally find him.

Ethan awoke with a cold sweat. He wasn’t sure what woke him at first, but the deafening sound of his own breathing cued him in. The forest around him was silent. The silence felt crushing on his eardrums, and unnatural. Nature was never silent. Ethan slowly kicked out of his sleeping bag, hating every little noise it made as it did. He felt fear trickle down his spine with every noise he made, afraid of what might draw near with no other sound around him. Gently, he unzipped his tent and peaked out. There was still nothing in the cabin with him, but even the creaking of the building was gone, not even whispering as he shifted his weight on the floorboards. Frowning, Ethan slipped out of his tent and peaked out of the window, trying to gauge the time of the night.

He blinked a few times, unable to understand what he saw. Outside the window, about twenty feet away, were three gravestones that had not been there before he fell asleep. Each one was in the shape of a cross, and each was larger than the last. They seemed to be made of stone, untouched by the effects of nature or weather. Where had they come from? A small team of men would have been required to move one of the crosses that size up here and into position. But there was not a soul around, and still no sound. Movement caught his attention, pulling his gaze away from the headstones. Ethan scoured the tree line, trying to figure out what moved out there. Then, something emerged from the trees that took the breath away from his lungs.

Out of the trees came a large figure. Ethan had to watch it closely to understand what he was even seeing. The creature looked as if it was walking on eight long, spindly legs, but as he looked closer, he saw that it had only two legs that bent like an animal’s, while the other six limbs were arms, arms with hands that had incredibly long, nimble fingers. The whole creature was white, a ghostly white that seemed to glow in the pale moonlight. Its movements as it spider-walked were so fluid, it almost looked like it was floating. But it was the head that kept him staring. The body of the creature was segmented and long, almost like a centipede. The neck seemed to be that of an elongated human neck, and attached was a round head, with a face that looked so alike to a plague doctor mask. It had large pits of blackness where eyes should have been, and a massive beak for a mouth that curved down at the end like the plague mask. The eeriness of its movements were made even more unnerving by the fact that its head never bobbed or swung while it walked. Its head was incredibly still.

Ethan continued to hold his breath as the creature made its way to the three gravestones. He felt like he was going to faint at the mere sight of this grotesque creature, His vision wavered a bit from holding his breath for so long. As he watched, the creature stopped at each cross, and its head dipped up and down a bit, as if the creature was sniffing them. At the last and smallest grave marker, the creature paused. It sat up on its legs and off its arms, revealing its frightening height. Then with hands as large as a bear’s, the creature began to grab piles of earth in the area before the smallest cross, rhythmically scooping it into a pile with its six hands. Even as it dug into the earth, the creature didn’t make a sound, matching the environment around it. Not even the trees stirred as the creature continued to work.

After a few moments, the creature stopped digging, and tugged at something in the ground. Before long, what it had came free, and it pulled a wooden box from the dirt. The box was compacted with moss and dirt and seemed worn, but it was still clear that this box had a thin lid on the top, keeping whatever was inside it concealed. The creature rocked back on its heels, and opened the box with silent ease. Ethan strained to see as the creature reached into the box with two hands and rummaged for a moment. Then it withdrew its hands, seeming to hold something small. Ethan blinked and trained his eyes on what was there, hardly believing what he was seeing. The creature held what appeared to be bones, bones attached to a small human skull and a pair of tattered overalls. Ethan recalled the photo he had found earlier, and his heart thumped hard in his chest. Was that the little boy he saw in the photograph? Was that even possible with how much time had passed?

The creature passed the body of the small boy between its hands with smooth, practiced movements, and its head bobbled as if the creature was sniffing again. It dropped onto its hands again, seeming to cradle the bones of the boy close to its underside as it took large strides back towards the trees. Another movement caught Ethan’s attention. Right below his face, right there on the weathered windowsill, was a thick white candle, and it had a glowing red flame of a fire that was about to go out. The candle had come out of nowhere. No one had been in that cabin other than Ethan that night. How did it possibly get there? Then it occurred to Ethan that the glow of this candle could catch the attention of anything outside, just like it did with Ethan earlier in the night. What if the creature saw the light?

Ethan glanced back up to see if the creature had disappeared into the trees. But instead of seeing the forest, Ethan came face to face with a ghostly white figure. Black, hollow pits for eyes seemed to bore into him, and a nose in the shape of a plague mask was mere centimeters from his face, the tip of the beak pushed past the broken panes of glass that used to be in the window. He watched in eerie horror as the beak of the creature opened, looking as if it was ripping slowly apart to create a tattered, dark maw. No breath came from the creature, even with its beak so close to Ethan’s face. It was only then that Ethan heard sound, the only sound that broke the silence of the night. A deep, hoarse laugh drummed into Ethan’s ears, a haunting laugh that was barely audible was coming from deep within the creature’s chest. As it deeply laughed, it drew the body of the boy closer to its chest, and the torn mouth seemed to curl up into a gruesome smile.