The bloody bride

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Its flame flickered on the windowsill, casting an eerie glow across the abandoned wooden walls. Celine watched from the outside as it danced in the quiet night air. She had heard the stories her friends talked about around the campfire, the dark tales of a murdered bride haunting the cabin in its midnight hours. The foggy night air causes the candle’s light to pass over Celine’s form in a soft yet eerie glow. Celine approached the front door of the cabin and gently placed a hand against the cold steel of the door handle. Grasping it, she gave the door a shove as it creaked open. Dust billowed across the old living room, awakening the space from its slumber.

As Celine entered the cabin, she glanced around the space, taking in all of its embellishments. A large grand piano sat in the middle of the room. The fireplace sat cold and dark along the back wall while tall bookshelves had dust-covered novels haphazardly stacked in every available crevice. A couch with matching armchairs sat in front of the fireplace, an old teapot long forgotten on a small table in between them. Stepping into the space, Celine looked at the many paintings and tapestries hanging about the cabin's walls. The floor groaned as she stepped over to an almost hidden staircase on the left, its intricate curved handle rising above her to the second floor. Her footsteps left a trail of ghostly prints behind as she carefully made her way upstairs towards the window with the candle. The wind whistled through the cracks in the wooden panels as she approached, but as she did, the flame blew out, plunging the cottage into darkness aside from the light of the full moon outside.

A woman’s scream pierced the night air, screeching through the midnight hours. The sound scared the life out of Celine and she sprinted down the stairs, through the house and out the front door as fast as her legs could carry her. She breathed heavily, her hair sticking to her face, Celine whipped around and stared back at the cottage. The candle glowed in its window once again. Staring wide-eyed in confusion, Celine looked around. The night was still and quiet, the only sounds coming from the nocturnal awakenings of the night. Whatever that scream had come from, it was not chasing her. Of course it wouldn’t, why would it? After all, it was just a ghost story that her friends told her about… It was probably just the wind howling right? Celine thought to herself. She stood up straight and marched back towards the still-open door.

Leaning against the door, she peeked inside. Nothing but the stillness greeted her. Taking a deep breath, Celine made her way slowly back up the stairs. The light of the candle illuminated the hallway above her as it flickered and waved in the night. A shiver ran over her neck as a cold wind blew past her. The candle blew out once again, and Celine bracing herself against the stillness for yet another scream, yet it never came. From behind her, the door slammed shut with a bang. Celine jumped at the sudden noise, whipping around in the darkness. She stared, wide-eyed, as the candle began to float from its windowsill. Smoke billowed from the top as it hovered closer to her. The candle floated past her, brushing her shoulder, leading her down the stairs into the living room where its flame once again burst into life. The candle floated near the grand piano, and as it did, the keys began to play. An eerie melody echoed throughout the cabin's stillness as the ivory keys were pushed down by some unseen force. The notes became more frantic and harsh, the melody becoming distorted and macabre as it continued on. Chaos started to rain over the cottage.

The candle threw itself into the fireplace, causing the flames to ignite in the hearth, the fire licking at the walls as it spread. Celine frantically ran towards the front door and grasped at the handle. It wouldn’t budge. A figure slowly emerged from the billowing smoke of the fire, her bloodied face inching nearer and nearer to Celine’s frantic form as she looked for an escape. Plunging forward with bloodied fingers, she screamed into the night as she tackled Celine.

Claws scrape into my arm as blood speckles the bed sheets beside me. I hiss in pain as I look up from the book I was reading. Mr. Mittens is sitting beside me, head cocked in my direction. “Don’t do that! You scared the daylights out of me” I say to the damn cat.