We were looking for a light in the dark. That’s not a metaphor.
My brother, Max, took me camping. I knew he was an experienced camper - our father used to take him almost every month. One of Max’s goals in life was to be able to survive in the wilderness for a week without any equipment except a knife and a canteen. Over the years he had been slowly learning new tricks and spots to become more proficient at it, so taking me camping with the full kit was going to be easy.
That is until it got dark.
“How you doing, Grace?” he asked as we slowly shuffled onward.
“My legs are aching like a bitch,” I muttered. “I still don’t see any light either, so…I’m going to have to kill you.”
“You’ll have to find me first. It shouldn’t be far. The GPS says it’s about three hundred feet that way.”
The forest was still and surprisingly calming. I was also listening to music, so the mellow atmospheric tones humming in my left ear helped, but it was mostly the colors. I’ve always liked the cool colors of blue and purple. The blending of the two in the dark was surreal. It was a dream made real. I couldn’t understand why people were bothered about being in a forest at night - it was heavenly.
At least it was for me. I also know I would have enjoyed it a lot more if we had found a place to settle instead of trudging between the trees, but Max had something special in mind.
“I see it,” he said.
In the distance was a faint blue light like a glowing bug zapper. One of those solar-powered deals that weren’t very bright, but they helped you find a garden path at night. For us, it led us straight to the door of a two-room cabin, complete with a tiny fireplace to warm the inside.
“What is this?” I asked.
“I found it a while ago, thought I would clean it up,” Max explained. “Had a lot of old crap, but now it’s empty. And the fireplace isn’t the best, it has some leaks, but I brought some things to fix that tomorrow.”
“I was wondering where the hell the tents were,” I laughed, throwing my pack into the second room.
The rooms were as small as two closets, but that was at least enough room to set up a sleeping bag and open the door without bashing someone in the head. When it came to camping, I dreaded the idea of sleeping in a tent. Something about having just a thin layer of plastic fabric between me and nature, while I slept, was not enough.
Actual cabin walls made a big difference. Max knew that, so I was grateful that he took us there.
We set up our places. I took the room at the back, while he took the room with the door leading outside. After slipping into my sleeping bag, I was more than ready to fall asleep - my body was begging for it. Minding the door and fireplace equipment in the corner, I sighed. I almost wept with joy, but my mind finally shut down first.
Before it did, I thought I heard Max say something, but I can’t remember what.
The next morning was a barrage of sounds. It felt like I had woken up in the bird section of a zoo. All types of chirps and twitters filled my ears and kept me from falling back to sleep. I would have happily stayed tucked into my cocoon until noon, but it wasn’t just the birds that wouldn’t let me sleep.
The door burst open.
“Get up, it’s almost nine already,” Max said.
“Fuck off,” I grunted.
Max reached down and grabbed the foot of my sleeping bag, dragging me from my room to his and then out the front door. I was groaning and cursing him out, getting louder and louder. Eventually, he let go, leaving me sitting in my sleeping bag, in my pajamas, surrounded by damp forest leaves and laughing birds.
Max stood there, already dressed and taking a deep breath of the forest air.
“Hasn’t your new wife taught you how to behave around women yet?” I asked.
“She has, but you’re not a woman. You’re my sister.”
“Still a-”
“I’m going to repair the chimney. You can collect wood for the fireplace,” and with that, Max turned around and walked back to the cabin. “And get a lot. Need something to cook breakfast on as well.”
My stomach rumbled at the thought. After returning to the cabin and changing, I set out to gather a ton of sticks and twigs. When I could, I dragged a few logs that weren’t so damp. I saw a handaxe in Max’s pack, so he could split them for the fireplace. It took a lot longer than I thought it would, but that was most likely because I was distracted by the forest itself.
With both earphones in, I treated it like I was in some kind of movie. An orchestra played over the small scenes of me picking up pieces of wood for the fire. Violins hummed when I looked up towards the treetops and the sky. The melodic sounds matched the tempo of the dappled shadows dancing on the forest floor.
I know it sounds silly, but I know I’m not the only one who does that. Sometimes you need a little more escapism with your escapism.
However, something strange happened. My music was interrupted by a screeching. It was like a bad signal. The same kind of sound you hear when tuning a radio and you are almost hitting the right point, you can hear the voices, but the static is still much louder. Only, I wasn’t listening to a radio or some streaming service.
It was music on my phone.
I thought the earphones were screwed at first, but before I could take them off, the music returned. Crystal clear. I was too mellow to care, let alone investigate what caused it. I blamed the technology and continued gathering wood. With a bundle wrapped in my arms, I turned around and made my way back to the cabin.
Max was inside, working at the chimney while I set the wood outside. While he did that, I took out my brand-new wilderness survival guide, pocket edition, and turned to the page on making a fire. I heard Max chuckle as he saw me, laughing a weird laugh, but I ignored him. It was my first real experience camping, I wasn’t going back until I made a fire on my own.
There are many ways to make a campfire, it all depends on how you set up the wood. I started clearing a space, creating a barrier of rocks, and then putting the wood in the shape of a tipi tent. I chose that style because that was the kind of campfire style I had seen in movies. Again, escapism with my escapism - and it worked.
The wood shavings I scraped off a branch with my knife made perfect tinder. The flames took to them and the fire took to the wood.
“Haha, I have made fire!” I roared. “I…have made…fire!”
Nothing quite matched that feeling of euphoria. It was then I forgot my problems completely. Max had brought me to the forest to help me get over some personal issues I had been having, it was a suggestion from his wife. Lighting that fire felt like burning the last of that misery away. I think Max felt the same way.
When I looked over at him, he was smiling from ear to ear. I could see a slight sadness in his eyes that quickly vanished, pride taking its place. I let the moment linger in the silence, focusing on the fire. I was just messing with the flames at some point, but it didn’t matter. My first campfire…it was something to enjoy.
Remembering breakfast, I looked back up at Max. He was still looking at the chimney, applying some kind of paste to the edgings and rusted areas. I think he was sealing the gaps with a putty-like substance.
“Hey, bring me the food and stuff,” I said. “There’s some…hello, are you listening?”
Max hid his face, waving his hand to say he was listening as he walked deeper into the cabin. I looked back down at the fire and sighed. For a moment I felt like a nagging child, but I let the feeling slip. Something I had learned to brush off after a few years in university. I was a basket of insecurities then.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I took it out, thinking I got a text or something, but no, not a single message. I didn’t even have any signal to begin with. Still, the phone buzzed strangely in my hand at weird intervals. I thought it was freaking out, that maybe I had a virus. Not sure how to deal with it, I just turned it off.
With a thump, my pack landed next to me while I sat by the fire. Max had thrown it and turned to the fireplace. I thought it was rude, a little too rude for even him. I get light-hearted sibling fights, but I had some fragile things in there. It was a step too far and from his body language, I think he realized it.
I swallowed my words and went to work on setting up water to boil. Coffee first, food later. With the water over the fire, I realized I needed a bit more fuel. I stood up and looked out towards the forest trees, picked a direction, and took a step.
As I did, I felt a dropping sensation. I thought I was having a panic attack, but I hadn’t had any in years, which only worried me more. That sudden sensation where it feels like you’ve just woken up in a dark room filled with unseen threats. A tap was turned and I began to sweat. I turned around to tell Max, but I saw him there in the doorway of the cabin, looking at me, arms at his sides.
Max was sweating too, but he didn’t seem to show any expression. He tried smiling at me but struggled, then he returned to neutral.
“I’m…struggling to breathe a little,” I told him. “Not sure why…and…”
It was his eyes. They lacked any kind of…humanity. The way he looked at me terrified me. It was the source of my overwhelming anxiety.
“Max, what’s wrong with you?” I asked. “Are you…sick?”
Max didn’t say anything. My phone started to screech in my pocket again. Even the sounds of nature around us didn’t make sense. It was like it was playing in reverse and distorted. I felt isolated. In those brief seconds, I realized that Max didn’t say a word when I returned, nor when I was making the fire. He was strangely silent the entire time.
And it felt wrong.
I had found the threat that was making me feel nervous. It was Max. The moment I realized this, a piece of damp wood in the fire popped and Max ran towards me. He was fast, faster than I was by a long shot. His face seemed to twist in on itself. I panicked, frozen in place until he was only a few feet away.
My knees gave out and the movement snapped me to attention. I hunkered down, his arms missing me and his body crashing over me. I fell too, but I had an easier time getting to my feet. He didn’t. He seemed to scramble on all fours, pushing the ground wrong with his arms, causing him to slip on the mud.
The longer I looked at him, the more I found mistakes. Mannerisms that weren’t even human.
I ran to the cabin in a panic. There weren’t any windows, just a single door. I would be trapped, but I would also be safe. I could have run in any other direction, but Max could outrun me. It wouldn’t matter how much of a headstart I had.
I slammed the door shut, placing the plank deadbolt across the door. My last glimpse of Max was him getting to his feet and looking straight at me. Shortly after, he was bashing against the door with the full force of his body.
My breathing was ragged as I backed away. I felt an itching sensation as I heard the weird sounds he made as the air was forced from his lungs. The breathing made me lightheaded, I didn’t even react when I fell back. I just hit the ground, taking the fall in stride as I stared at the door.
Tuning the thumps out became easier until the only sounds I heard were my heart pounding and the soft sobs that escaped my lips. I brought my knees up and hugged them, letting myself break while I was safe. When I calmed down, I tried to make sense of what was happening.
When my body could obey instructions again, I told it to get up and search the cabin for something to defend myself. There wasn’t much to choose from, then I remembered seeing an iron fire poker sitting in the corner of the room at the back where I slept. It was rusty, heavy, and the only thing that could be considered a weapon.
I opened the door and found my sleeping bag and Max’s bunched up in one corner, covered in blood and a pale arm sticking out. One of the fingers was crooked, missing the tip of the nail. I could feel something in me snap, my eyes instantly recognizing the forearm before my mind, but my mind refused.
A moment later, I closed the door to the room, fire poker in hand.
I couldn’t tell you exactly how much time passed between that and what happened next. The day passed, and I know that. The warm light that did make it into the cabin had vanished. It felt colder. The thumps had stopped, but the impostor was still outside. I could hear it breathing. I could hear its steps as it shuffled around the cabin.
I could hear it speak with Max’s voice, talking about things like the weather and types of trees. It wasn’t speaking to me, it was just speaking. Imitating.
I was starving. I knew I had only one real option and it became a lot less possible the longer I waited. I am not the kind of person to do something so brave or crazy without the threat of death. I was going to try fighting it.
I stood up and took steps towards the door. As I did, the creature followed the sound through the cabin. When I stopped, I heard it stop as well, until I finally reached the door itself. It stood on the other side, waiting. A tear ran down my face, just imagining my brother’s face staring at mine through the wood. My hand tightened around the poker and I lifted the plank out of the way. No barricade, no lock.
The door opened slowly at first, but I was scared already. I leaned back, lifted one leg, and braced for the hardest kick I could muster. My boot hit the area beside the lock, sending the door back suddenly into the creature. I don’t know if it made a sound, I was screaming after that.
I saw its arm. I started swinging the poker. There was a little iron hook thing at the end, something that could dig into someone, and do some real damage. My swings weren’t perfect, but when that hook did catch, the creature hesitated long enough for me to get a few more hits in.
For the most part, it reacted like a human would. It raised its arm in defense, it yelled in Max’s voice, but the change happened again. A sudden shift. I could sense it. The screaming stopped, and the flailing stopped. I was glad it was dark enough to hide his face. I didn’t want to see it.
I didn’t stop. I kept hitting it even when it stopped moving. I hit everything that wasn’t already heavily damaged. The arms, the chest, the head, the legs, and the head again. I felt something warm on my hands and the legs of my pants. The smell was enough to tell me what it was. More tired than satisfied, I finally dropped the iron poker.
I ventured back into the back and grabbed my pack. I stared at the door to the backroom for a long time.
“Can’t carry him…what are you doing?” I said to myself. “Stop…stop looking…stop. Go now.”
My body eventually listened to my mouth, turning me around and marching outside. Past the body and between the trees. I stared at the small screen on the GPS, orienting myself. I started walking. When I reached the end of the clearing, I looked back.
The cabin stood there, a black block in the cool darkness. I turned back around and kept walking. My head felt empty - it was on autopilot. I felt cold and detached like I was wandering through a dream world I knew to be a dream. I stumbled, I scratched my arms, but I didn’t complain or curse.
Ten minutes later, I heard a yell. It was a scream for help. It was human, it was male and it came from the direction of the cabin.
I kept going. The screaming faded. My face was cold with tears.
-
It’s been a few weeks since then. Mourning shouldn’t be like this. Loss shouldn’t be so cold and terrifying. The amount of regret I feel doesn’t seem to subside.
I don’t regret running into the cabin. For me, it was the only way to stay safe and prepare myself. It was the right decision. I also don’t regret attacking the creature. It wouldn’t have left and I don’t think I could outsmart it
What I regret more than anything else is that I didn’t check Max’s body.
That scream could have easily been a tactic for the creature to lure me back. Yet, it knew that the body was in the cabin, it knew I would discover it. It knew that I wouldn’t fall for another Max impersonation.
It’s possible that scream was Max’s - the real Max. It’s possible that he was alive, just injured. It’s possible I left him to die at the hands of that creature…or something else. I tell myself so many times that the creature must not have been that smart, that it was trying to trick me because that’s all it knew how to do.
But I just don’t know. I don’t know and that sickens me.