The Candle

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Charles thought that was odd considering his uncle had been dead for over a decade, as he looked over his shivering family. His wife Karly and their two kids, Daniel and Bethany, were huddled beneath their one survival blanket soaked to the core from the previous mishap of losing their kayak and scrambling to the shore in the rising current. The river was behind them quite a way now and gazing up the rolling hill, the cabin loomed ominously what seemed miles away, especially in the oppressive gloom of dusk and the frigidly pelting rain that had beset them.

“C’mon guys only a little further and we’ll get a fire started.” He would deal with whatever vagabond had decided to shelter in the cabin when they stepped inside. His first priority was to get out of the cold rain before something worse than chattering teeth and blue lips happened to his family.

After what seemed like a lifetime, they arrived at the dilapidated front door and the porch in an even worse state of repair. The excuse for a portico over the door provided a much-needed reprieve from the now full darkness that the dusk had transformed into and the monsoon scouring the landscape around them. The dim candle still seen from what would have been the main bedroom window drank the darkness in. The front door gave way to Charles with very little protest more than the squealing hinges. After a moment he found the light switch as his childhood memory started to kick in. The lights didn’t flicker to life and part of him knew they wouldn’t. The place had been vacant for quite some time and it had the feeling of death around it. It hung in the very air. That lack of sound, of the things that hum and whir just under our comprehension and go unnoticed until they’re just not there. The things that make a home feel lived in. It smelled of dust and dampness at the same time. He ushered his family in behind him and let the front door squeak shut.

“Hello? Is someone here?” Charles called out to the darkness as he stumbled his way to the fireplace. Once there he went for the poker and motioned for his family to stay put close to the only exit nearby. In the pitch-black, he ended up grabbing the fireplace broom instead. It would have to suffice. Broom in one hand like the long sword it most certainly was not, he ran his hand along the mantle.

“Where are they? He whispered to himself.” Just as his hands fell on the box he knew held the emergency candles and matches.

“Ha got’em!” He cried a bit louder than he expected.

He lit one and began to walk over to hand it to his wife so he could begin the arduous task of starting a fire. In the small light, he could see that the inside of the cabin was the same as in his childhood memory. The last time he was here was at the wake that was so many years ago but it hadn’t changed a bit. It was wood from floor to ceiling, like something out of a gaudy hunter's dream. Albeit much nicer than the outside of the cabin warranted. The shadows cast by the flickering candlelight gave a sense of movement everywhere just on the edge of vision. The door to the bedroom was shut and he didn’t mind if it just stayed that way until more pressing matters were dealt with. The bathroom and the door to his uncle’s work room were open but the meager light didn’t penetrate into the work room. With a nod, Karly accepted the proffered candle in silent understanding. As he paced back to the fireplace the realization struck him.

“Where’s Daniel?” Charles asked, his back to the rest of his family. He turned to look them over more clearly, especially now that Karly held the candle. She hadn’t responded but worry painted her face as she opened the silvery blanket that enveloped her and Bethany but no Daniel. He was just gone, vanished. The cold melted from him as terror replaced it.

“He was just here!” She exclaimed. “I remember feeling him shivering up until you asked.” She fought sobs as the weight of everything began to crash down on her.

Holding her shoulders firmly he told her. “He couldn’t have gone far,” Charles said sternly, trying to steel his wife’s nerves through sheer willpower.

“Help me look.” They both started to scream out for their son. Between shouts, he could see that Karly was opening cupboards and looking under tables and pillows in vain.

“I’ll look outside!” He yelled and didn’t bother to check if she acknowledged his words. But when he tried the door it didn’t budge. Not that the door wouldn’t open, it wouldn’t move. There was no give, no wiggle to the knob at all or even the door itself. He tested shouldering the door to no avail. The wood didn’t creak nor did it really feel like wood at all but more like stone cleverly disguised as a weather-worn cabin door. In a panic, he dropped the metal broom and hefted one of the wooden chairs surrounding the tiny table centered in the small area reserved for dining. Then with a growl and a run, he swung it with all his might at the large window to the right of the front door. He closed his eyes to shield them as the chair splintered into bits as it crashed into the window. When he opened them back up still clutching the remnants of the chair in his hands, he stared in astonishment that the glass portal was unscathed. Not a single blemish marred its pristine surface. He did notice however that the storm outside had grown to preternatural strength. The rain came in sheets in all directions and the almost constant lightning gave off almost enough light to see by. In the grip of wordless utter fright, Charles backed away from the window like putting distance between himself and the pseudo-modern double pane glass would provide some form of protection. There was a squeak and a sloppy sloshing sound as he backpedaled and lost his footing on something wet and cloth-like. The hardwood floor rushed up to meet him and something was smothering the life out of him. Horror filled him as he fought with his assailant only to find that it was the metallic survival blanket his family had brought in. The relief was only fleeting though, his daughter should have been there.

“Where’s Bethany?” He croaked as he furiously scrambled the blanket as though she could be hiding somewhere beneath it. Looking up with tears filling his eyes, he searched for his wife. When they fell on her back, the light from the candle still in her hand, he saw that she was standing sickeningly still just in front of the cabin’s open workroom door. With the candle in her hand, the light should have been able to creep into that room. But what stared back was pure black. Like a maw open to an endless pit. The darkness pulsed, as though it was breathing, almost panting. He could feel the want of it, the hunger, the need seeping out. With the non-stop lightning illuminating through the window and her candle he still couldn’t make out her face from his position, but he could sense her intent.

“Karly NOOO!” He bellowed with an outstretched hand! She paid him no consideration and slowly stepped toward and into the pit gaping before. The light from the candle she’d been carrying was swallowed whole as well as herself. The door to this nether slammed shut behind her. In a heartbeat, Charles was on his feet racing to the door. He beat at it with his fists headless of the pain welling in his hands as he cried out the names of his children and wife. Then he felt it. The soulless cold emanated from behind the closed door. As he gingerly reached and felt at the door it was so unfathomably cold that it burned. Darkness ebbed from the edges of the door, from underneath and above. It permeated through the pores of the wood. Like blood, it pooled and ran out engulfing everything it touched. Even though the light from the storm was now bright enough and constant enough to see by, the formless thing before him devoured it. Sudden pain in his back told him that he’d unknowingly fled backward and ran into the opposite door to the bedroom. Without thinking Charles flung the door open careless of who or what might lay beyond. With a quick inspection, he saw that the candle they had seen from the outside was still in the window, throwing out its meaningless light. No one else was to be seen but that was none of his concern at the current moment. He slammed the door shut and shouldered the large dresser in front of it as a barricade. Then he sprinted to the lone window in the room. As he tried to pry it open he saw that it was unlocked but wouldn’t move a bit, like the window in the living room. He smashed his hands against it to the same result. All the while the cabin began to rumble and heave. He could hear the dresser tremble behind him under some unseen force. Perceiving he was out of options he sagged onto the bed crying and laughing his sanity crumbling away. With a loud thud and cracking of cheap wood, the dresser barricade toppled over and flew into the wall as if thrown by a giant. It spilled its dusty contents out across the floor.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?” Charles shrieked. He no longer cared, his family was gone, and his world had been snatched away from him. He had given up. And when that shred within him finally snapped the tumult around him quieted and the world stood still. The incandescent light in the room flickered to life and even the crummy ceiling fan started whirring. The knob on the simple wooden door to the bedroom rattled a little like someone testing it. It turned more confidently and the gateway to the living room swung lazily open. The darkness waited there just beyond the threshold. In profound confusion, he watched as a portly balding man in an unkempt striped polo and loose slacks stepped from the bleakness and into the room. With sadness written on his face, the intruder took in the scene in the room and picked his way through the detritus of clothes and broken dresser.

“This was a bad one wasn’t it Charles?” The man said calmly and familiarly as he sat next to Charles.

“What? Uncle Darren is that you?”

“Yup,” He nodded, “I’m paying for my mistakes and my choices by helping you. Son ya’ gotta face this. Find som’ peace.”

The man reached out and softly placed his hand on Charles’ shoulder. And it was like icy water filling his veins. Pictures played across his vision like a clipped movie. The storm, the fall into the water, the mad dash to the cabin, and the candle. He’d found the box of matches and candles. He’d tried to light the candle but with his numb fingers, he had dropped the only match they’d found and it had snuffed out. It had been cold, so very cold.

His mind reeled against the images and the pain they caused.

Charles snapped out of his daze. “Had he been daydreaming while sitting up?” The sound of the river splashing against their canoe surrounded him, and there was a chill in the air but he knew this river and wasn’t worried.

“Dad! Tell the story!” Daniel squawked with excitement as he feebly shook his father’s leg trying to get his attention. He looked over and saw Karly beaming with pleasure as she watched their annual tradition play out in front of her.

“OK. We’re about to pass a cabin up here on the left, and if you look hard enough you’ll be able to see it. It was my uncle’s. They don’t know if he killed himself or if it was an accident,” he paused for classic storytelling tension, “or if he was murdered. But some say it’s haunted now.” Charles looked up and saw the clouds that were gathering and rumbling rather quickly. He didn’t like the look of it. But he continued with the story anyway.