I found a journal page I collected some years back, don’t exactly remember when. So, i figured I’d write it down now that I have some time to myself. Got yourself a hot beverage, It’s a chilling tale-plus this cold weather is freezing my bones, literally. You’re lucky if you are someplace warm currently.
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I sat there, warm and cozy by the fireplace crackling and popping. The wood shifted, sending lit ashes up into the chime as the logs slowly turned to charcoal. I sighed, scooting closer to the warmth. “I probably have to go outside soon…” To gather more logs to put into the fire, of course. There would be no other reason I would step a foot out my cabin into the cold, snowy wasteland that was outside.
But, I had to bare the freezing temperatures in order to keep me, and Timber-my dog, best friend-warm.
Honestly, I would have probably given up by now if it wasn’t for Timber.
So, that’s what I did. I got up from my spot beside the hearth and walked to the door. The howling winds whistled, and banged on my cabin, you would think I would have had a hard time sleeping with how loud the blizzard was, but you’d be surprised what someone can get used to after so much time with something, such as the storm.
I toke my coat and gloves on a wooden stand I built. Though my boots, still damp from last I wore them out in the snow, i put them on anyway. I’ll remember to put them by the fire next time.
I fastened my gloves, and unlocked the large wood, weather beaten door. I shoved the door open with more force then necessary as I expected there to be snow build up in front of it, but to my surprise there was not much. The blizzard must have lightened last I been out, maybe now I could get in contact with someone. I only have three more days of food left, and even less wood. Maybe I should go more sparingly. I let the door lightly shut back, not closing all the way. Can’t open a door with my hands while carrying a armful of wood.
I walked the rest if the way out my door and continued my objective. Luckily the moon was full, plus there wasn’t as much clouds anymore blocking it from helping me as I trudged through the snow to the back of my cabin.
What was interesting- no, weird is a better word- about the still night, was the fact that it was a still, calm night. Where was the wind I had heard from in my house?
I reached the back of my cabin and started for my wood, the pile of chopped logs stacked closely to the side of my cabin, and under a small tin roof I had built before the blizzard came. The roof had a thick layer of snow stacked on it. “Better not nudge the legs, all that snow is falling on me.” I shook the thought away, just thinking about it made the temperature drop a couple of digits.
As I grabbed some logs and put them into my arms, I heard my door open, the family sound of it creaking startled me at first before I put two and two together. “Timber, get back in!” I yelled, I didn’t want her to get too cold. I shook my head and sighed, my steamy puff of breath slipped out with my agitation. “she’s a Husky, I’m sure she’s fine.” I adjusted my armful of firewood and starting following my foot prints back to my entry.
“Timber?” I looked around before I walked back in. “Timber!” I called out, waiting to hear her running through the snow back to me and the warm smoky cabin.
But then I realized something, and it startled me. Why couldn’t I see any paw prints in the snow leading out from the house where she had opened the door from. As I scanned the ground, the moonlight shifted out from some clouds and splashed the snowy ground.
How do I say this… I did see new prints, it’s just… They weren’t hers. And I know what you’re thinking, *There yours’s, stupid.* No, they were not. Why do I know this? Well there could be a couple of reason. Maybe I didn’t walk in that direction, maybe I don’t have that big or small of feet, or maybe I don’t have that print in the snow.
Both of those last two reasons are somewhat accurate: No, I don’t have that big of feet; no, I don’t have that foot print.
These, prints… They came from someone who hadn’t any shoes on… Bare, naked, shoeless feet in
15°F weather, in the middle of a forest. During winter, in a blizzard. No where around here is there any sort of town. Or road they could have came from.
I turned to my door, it was slight ajar, the slither of light from the fireplace shined through the gap. I walked cautiously to the door, and peaked in. My dog laid on the ground, head softly sitting on a pillow I let her borrow. She hadn’t even moved.
I opened the door the rest of the way and shut it behind me, locking it and setting my armful of wood on a rack in reach. I skipped taking my shoes off and hurried inside the rest of the way scanning the house: I searched everything… Everywhere. my bedroom, the kitchen, the restroom, the cellar. Nothing, no one was in my house besides me, my dog. Anyway, wouldn’t Timber bark or something if someone else besides me enters the cabin?
I sighed, maybe it was just me. Maybe it was just the darkness playing tricks with me. I mean, I still was dark enough for that to happen even though the moon was full, right? Could have been a animal passing by and scooted my door open, enough for it to create a sound, and then scurried off after I yelled for Timber.
I sat back down after feeding the fire once again, rubbing Timber’s soft fur. She made no noise, nor did she move. She must’ve been really tired tonight. I Rubbed her one last time on the side of her head, a good night pat you could say, but as I was about to stand… her head… Her head flopped side ways, Jesus…
Her neck flopped limply.
I stood in a hurry, but as I stood my neck became stiff with hot, humid air. Slow, uneven puffs of it colliding with my bare neck.
I looked up, something wet and sticky fell on my cheek, but in the beams of my cabin: There he was. He, She, It? I couldn’t discern.
It gasped and twitched watching me. It’s breath was foul, like that of a rotting carcass. Its whole body twitched and spasmed, turning its head left, then stopping and turning its hairless head all the way to the right, its enormous black eye’s watching me. It drooled yellowish white saliva as it hung its mouth agape, wider than I thought was possible for a human skull.
What felt like hours flew by, me and it watching each other. It’s head still turning in all directions. I felt that if I moved, even a small bit, it would too.
Eventually my fire would dim, and dim, slowly darkening the cabin in a shadowy hell. A unfamiliar hell that I had to share with something that looked as though it could see perfectly fine in the darkness.
After the last breath of fire succumbed with a crumble of burnt charcoal, so did the little bit of light it produced cease to reflect the creatures black eyes; the room was flooded with totally, blinding darkness, I knew what would happen, but I was to petrified by the thought of what it would do if I ran… It did just as I thought once the light vanished:
The support beams creaked and shifted, the creature moved.
But, here I am. The day after all this happened. After the creature moved it didn’t attack me as i thought it would, nor did it seem interested in me after it toke my companion, Timber, and drug her out of my cabin. As soon it crawled out my door, I sprinted to the door slamming it closed and locking it, then ran to my bedroom where i am currently. Though not for long, my shotgun is somewhere in here and I’m going to murder *it*, If not, well no one else ever loved me anyone besides Timber.
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I found this note in a crumbling, old cabin in the middle of nowhere. Couldn’t find any bodies, or bones anywhere close by to the house, though I’m not even sure when I found the note really, much less when any of it was written. The bones or bodies could have just been ate by animals or token away by the time I came across all this.
Or, maybe the writer killed the creature like he said he would and left that place with his companion. Who knows really.
Anyway, my fire should be burning for awhile more and I would like to share some other stories I’ve collected over the course of my adventures, but I best be packing up and finishing this. I’ve got company in a few, a buddie of mine, he’s bringing some supplies for my camp and I’ve got to meet up with him. Come back some other night, trust me I have much, much more creepy stories to share that I’ve come across.