The Candle

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. My friend and I had been camping nearby for about a week. We talked about going inside, perhaps sleeping in there instead of our tent. But we always decided against it. I don’t know if it was the unsettling silence that overcame the forest every time we approached it, or perhaps it was how everyone in the nearby town seemed unreasonably out of sorts since their innkeeper mysteriously vanished while out gathering wood. Either way, since we saw the candle it was clear someone had reclaimed the space and so we kept our distance.

One night, we were woken from our tents by a search party. The townspeople had lost another; someone’s young daughter had gone into the woods to play and never came home. We grabbed our flashlights to help where we could. But I noticed, of the scores of people searching, no one approached the cabin. It’s as though there was an invisible threshold no one even considered to cross. I felt there was a very good chance the little girl could be hiding inside or at the very least, the new resident may have seen or heard something that could link to her whereabouts. Or God forbid, be involved. I suggested to my friend that we go in. He seemed reluctant, but when I crossed the invisible threshold, he followed suit.

I don’t know if it was just my imagination, having already commented on the eerie ambiance around the cabin before, but every sound in the forest seemed to instantly stifle. Every single person in the search party, with cracking sticks and leaves underfoot, calling out for the little girl – silent. But I could still see them. Still active, still on the move. But no sound. All I could hear was the blood throbbing in my ears as my adrenaline pumped, and the heavy, uneven breathing of my friend behind me. And there was definitely someone home in the cabin. There were two candles in the window now.

I knocked lightly on the door, then harder when I got no answer. I heard the floorboards creak inside. I knocked again and called out, explaining the situation. There was still no answer. Realizing it might be disrespectful, should this indeed be someone’s home, I opened the door anyway. There was a chance it could be the little girl inside. I called out again, all apologies and explanations. There was no one there. I knew this for certain, since there was no furniture to hide behind. There were no additional rooms to be in. There was nothing but a small table by the window that held two flickering candles. I went inside. The floorboards creaked beneath my feet, covered in dead leaves and pine needles. I looked up into the open rafters, cobwebs strewn heavily between them. There were a few more windows in the empty room, but each unable to be opened. I turned to look at my friend, realizing I must have mistaken the sound of movement I heard earlier. We both went back into the silence of the forest, but the lights of the search party’s flashlights were gone. My friend left the cabin first and turned to face me. I felt a chill cascade up my spine. I had initially thought the idea of being unexpectedly alone had been what caused it, but I realize now it must have been something else. The same thing that made my friend scream and run.

I turned sharply to see what my friend had seen but there was nothing there. Nothing that warranted his reaction. My logical self was confused, but my emotional self was terrified. I chased after him, following the sound of snapping twigs and disrupted birds flying away. He was running in the direction of our tent. He had managed to get inside and was already zipping it up closed behind him, but I shouted after him and he paused long enough to let me through. I demanded answers from him, but he clapped a sweaty hand over my mouth. The sounds of the forest had dropped to a deafening silence. All I could hear was the choppy breath of my friend. Until I heard something else. Something familiar, something I had trouble placing at first but then… was it… the sound of a zipper? I looked to the top of the tent, and something long and sharp, like the needle of a red pine, was inserted through the gap above the top stop and was slowly pulling the zipper down tooth by tooth.

I felt my friend stiffen in fear, but a new shot of adrenaline cleared my head and volleyed me into action. I opened the window in the back of our tent and fumbling around the gear for a utility knife, I slashed open the bug mesh and pulled myself out the window. I called back for my friend to follow, but my adrenaline wouldn’t let me stay still. I already started running toward the direction of the town. I could hear my friend close behind, calling out for me to slow down, but my survival instincts had over-ridden my empathy. I ran fast and I didn’t look back. Until the silence overtook the forest again. I could feel something behind me, and I knew it wasn’t my friend. I turned around quickly to face it head on. I still had the utility knife, slick in my sweaty hands, and I was ready to use it. But once again, nothing was there. And yet, I could still feel something behind me. I spun around again, still to nothing. I ran a distance but couldn’t shake the sensation that something was just about to strike, but every time I turned around… nothing. I started toward the town again, but I this time I walked. As calmly as I could manage. And alertly. The feeling came again. This time, I turned around but pushed my back tight against a tree. I saw it. A blur, a shadow, ever so briefly but definitely there. Disappearing behind a tree. My mouth went dry. My ears pounded with the sound of my heart. My eyes didn’t leave that spot. I backed away slowly from the edge of the tree, feeling around with my feet for stable ground, my arms swinging behind me to get an idea of upcoming obstacles. But my eyes stayed fixed on the spot where I saw it. Fixed on the tree I knew it was behind. I backed up slow. I moved deliberately, carefully. But it wasn’t enough. My heel caught a root and I fell back onto the ground. My knife was knocked from my hand and I didn’t hear where it landed. I sat up quick, looked to the tree I tried so terribly hard to keep in my sights, but the feeling returned. The feeling something was behind me.

I sprang to my feet and ran. Every time I felt that feeling I spun around, but never stopped moving. I tried to recover my composure enough to put my back to a tree again, but my fear had gotten the best of me. I was now running and turning wildly, each time the sensation of meeting my end coming sooner and sooner. I saw a light close by. It was the search party, and perhaps being close to them would grant some kind of protection. Strength in numbers. At the very least, some sense of human comfort. But it wasn’t the search party. It was the cabin. And there were three candles in the window.

I was so past logical thinking. I dropped my head, and I ran. Away from the cabin, away from the tent, and away from the town. I just ran, and prayed, and hoped for the best. My throat burned from exhaustion and my legs felt like they would give out any second. But I still had unexpected strength left. Enough to keep me moving forward. Even though I didn’t know where I was going, and I could feel the something behind me getting closer and closer. I felt that feeling something was about to strike, something was upon me. Almost as though a hand were reaching out, hovering over my shoulder, just about to grab me. And then I did feel it. Four long, sharp needles. Softly, gently, slipping over my collarbone. I didn’t stop running, I didn’t spin around, only braced myself for the inevitable. And then I fell forward. Into something cold and dark, completely enveloping my mind and body. It was the river.

I was underwater for a few seconds before I realized what happened. I managed to get up to the surface, moving fast with the current. The place I had fallen was already quite far away. I looked around that spot, I looked around the river’s banks, and I looked around the water that surrounded me. Nothing seemed to be there. And nothing felt like it was behind me. And I could hear the forest again.

I let the river carry me for several miles until I spotted a bridge. I had regained some of my energy and most of my composure. I was able to swim to shore and wave down a truck that was driving by, which took me into town. The search party had returned hours earlier. They didn’t find the little girl. And no one had seen my friend. I waited for several days for him at the inn. The innkeeper’s wife organized another search party, but I stayed behind. My friend never turned up.

Every year I would e-mail the innkeeper’s wife and ask after my friend. I’d also ask if they ever found her husband or the girl. The answer was always the same. Until one day she stopped e-mailing me back. I tried calling other businesses in the town, but there was never an answer. I finally decided to go back. I promised myself I never would, but a part of me couldn’t let it go. I needed to go back. So I did. But when I went to the town, there was nobody there. I found a few tents set up nearby, but no one was inside. It started to gently rain. I knew I needed to turn back, to go home, but there was one more place I wanted to see. I think part of me didn’t think it was actually ever there. But it was. The cabin. It looked exactly how it looked the day I last saw it, years ago. Except for one big difference. In the darkening dusk and shadows of the towering pines, it was magnificently aglow. When I got closer, I saw why.

It was filled with hundreds and hundreds of candles.

Then the forest went silent.