I’m staying at a lodge deep in the forest at Pine Creek. Whilst looking around the cabin I found a journal. It’s from 18 years ago, I thought I would transcribe the entry onto here, to share with you before I decide whether to leave.
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My eyes peeled open from a deep slumber, body rooted into the mattress. I was expecting the embrace of morning sunshine, but I was surprised to find there was no light at all, it was still pitch black. Staring blankly at the ceiling my eyes strained, gradually revealing more detail and eventually reaching as far as the old wooden beams that ran across the single-story cabin.
An owl hooted from a nearby tree. The Cabin sat still, deep within the Pine Creek forest, tall proud trees for miles of all shapes and ages, providing a sanctuary for those within and an eery presence for those outside.
It was bitterly cold. The fire had burnt itself out hours ago and the cabin hadn’t exactly been designed with energy efficiency in mind. The blanket was barely large enough to cover the single bed that sat against the wall of the bedroom.
The bedroom was barely big enough for the bed, a wardrobe, a small rug and the old wooden door half closed. Normally I could see through the door into the hallway but instead I was blinded by an unavoidable darkness.
As I lay there, I listened. Expecting the monotonous and continuous stream of engines and exhausts combined with the muttering of voices from the sidewalk below and streetlights to burn through the curtains to prevent any true respite from light.
But there was nothing.
Mostly silence. The only sound that my ears could attune to was the sound within the darkness that filled the void. The sound beyond the walls was a steady, gentle ambience. The wind occasionally howling as it wrapped itself around the timber frame. The rustling of the bushes, branches and vegetation. There were creaks and groans, as the trees bent to the elements.
The air was filled with calm.
A break from the city. It’s tranquil but I’m filled with a feeling of isolation. The feeling of truly being alone. My only neighbours now are the nocturnal creatures that foraged on the other side of this wall.
But why was I awake? I don’t usually wake in the middle of the night. Did my mind suddenly come to the realisation that I was miles from anywhere in an unfamiliar location. Was it so unrealistic to be processing the forest ambience around me, that it had to wake me to confirm its existence.
I continued to listen.
But before my mind could settle, in the not so far distance amongst the thick coverage of trees, was a chorus of squarks. A flock of crows taking flight so fast you could almost hear their panicked wings creating turbulence.
What possibly startled them? It was distant, but close enough to know that whatever caused it would likely be in the area. My mind did the opposite of settle. It scrambled to create a picture of what could have happened.
The sound of the birds faded into the night. I lay there and listened for a little while longer. I pulled the blanket up closer to my chin, tucking any part of me under the comfort of the cover.
What-ever sent the birds into a frenzy is unaware of my existence. If I just lay still and quiet, it will be none the wiser.
My mind was creating a concoction of scenarios. “What if it was moving towards the cabin, I mean it must have been pretty big to send a whole flock of birds into flight like that, right?”
“Maybe it’s outside now”-
“snap out of it” I whispered frustrated with myself.
“Focus on your breathing, in and out”. I told myself.
I awoke for a second time. This time to the light breaking through the curtains and dancing across the room. I rolled my head to look towards my half closed-
My… fully closed door?
I could have sworn that was only half closed last night. Doors don’t close themselves. However It was dark beyond belief and my eyes hadn’t had chance to adapt to the lack of light. I probably just saw it as half closed when in reality it was closed.
I dragged myself out of bed and left the woolly blanket strewn across the bed. I’ll deal with that later.
Today I want to visit the nearby town of Pine Creek, and by nearby I mean a mile and a half down a trail I can only assume was created to connect this cabin to the town.
After eating lunch and spending a short amount of time preparing my backpack with water and various other supplies, I put on my chunky black and grey hiking boots that I’d bought just days before I came out here. I haven’t worn them in yet though so this could be interesting.
I slipped the bolt on the door to the side and gently pulled the handle down. The door swung open and I took in a deep breathe. Greeted by an encore of songs from the forests winged inhabitants I inhaled the cold fresh forest air. An aroma of different vegetation that I had no idea the source of, to identify them didn’t matter. It filled my lungs and I could feel the new revitalising air replace the toxic fumes of the city deep from within me.
The sky was a somber grey and it provided a gloomy atmosphere. The cabin itself was situated in an opening in the trees. Out the front was a few meters of gravel intertwined with some small shrubs, which quickly narrowed into a trail that became engulfed by thick brush from the overreaching branches.
Behind the cabin were more trees. Same to the right. To the left was a dirt track that lead outwards uphill towards for around half a mile. Eventually it leads to an old rarely used road which I was dropped off at. It really was a pocket of isolated paradise.
As I started down the trail, it quickly turned darker as the canopy above let thin stretching strips of light through. It wasn’t overly dark but it was noticeably more shaded.
As I continued on to the sounds of birds communicating, I couldn’t help but think about what happened last night.
However I quickly tried to shake the thought, knowing that if I let my imagination take over I’d spoil the true beauty of the forest, staring me in the face with each step.
I approached an opening after walking for around thirty-five minutes. It sloped down and the trees thinned. I could soon make out that I was walking down into a valley. If I stopped to look up I could see a blanket of green on adjacent hills that encircled what I would assume is the town.
A few minutes of descending and I could make out an old mill that lay perched on the embankment of a small stream that now met and ran alongside the path.
Eventually more buildings came into sight.
Ivy ran up the side of the once red brick and it was difficult to tell where the forest ended and the town began.
“Does anyone even still live here?”
“I mean they must do right-“
“Who are you?” Came an old deep cranky male voice from behind me.
My mind muttered to itself “How an earth are you behind me, I’ve barely stepped off the trail…”
I now turned to face this person and put on my friendliest face and proceeded to step towards them closing the distance between us. As I moved closer the features became more distinguishable with long grey hair that hung below the ears, white beard to match and eyebrows that… well weren’t far off either.
The sound of the stream elegantly rushing over the shallow rocks filled the silence and tiny waterfalls creating a splashing as it flowed down the hill.
The old man grunted out “You shouldn’t be here”
“Sorry, I’m Ben, I’m renting the cabin about a mile up the-“
“I know the cabin, I said you shouldn’t be down here.”
I was slightly taken back by the comment, and my face soured into a frown.
I took another moment to look back towards the town. Since I was abruptly sucked into this conversation I hadn’t had the time to really take in my surroundings. I peered down past the mill and the old weathered building opposite hoping to gather some more information.. and, as much as there were other buildings… something didn’t sit right. I looked closer, almost triple checking to make sure I was really seeing it. All the windows had thick steel bars running vertically down them.
Old white rust covered bars. Some bent, most straight. But without fail on every window where securely fastened bars. Whatever these were for, it wasn’t for keeping people from getting out. It was keeping something from getting in.
An uneasy feeling sank into the pit of my stomach. The sound of the stream only slightly remedying the fear that began to spread from one part of me to the next.
I turned to ask the guy-
He was gone.
I’d come this far, I’m not going to be spooked by a crazy old man. I’m sure there’s some nice people in this.. slightly worse for wear town. I pushed on past the mill and over a small rickety bridge as the stream took a left turn to run along the back of a row of houses. I followed the track forward which led out to a dirty tarmac road, infested with cracks. I looked right. The road wound into the trees but with no sign of civilisation. I looked left, houses lined the sides of the road, old buildings that looked barely lived in.
This was far from any situation that I knew how to deal with, nor how to react. No part of this screamed come in and take a look around. The running water was a distant sound. Leaves gently rustled across the ground and grass filled the gaps in the road. I continued slowly down the road, scanning left to right, the bars across the windows making any clear distinctions within them nearly impossible.
As I looked over one more time to my right I noticed a pair of eyes peering from behind the bars. The eyes followed me un-wavering, tracking my every move. I glanced over but afraid to make prolonged eye contact. I sheepishly moved on when I noticed on the left, another set of spying eyes.
The sun was now beginning its decent and the temperature dropped a few degrees, it became more apparent that my breathe was clashing with the cold as the heat escaped through my mouth and nose.
There was the occasional chime from door front ornaments and the crickets were getting louder.
As I prepared myself for the return trip to the cabin I heard a faint pitter patter. A kind of faint tapping that grew louder with every second. Rain? I thought. I put my hand out. Nothing.
The sound grew louder, becoming more distinguishable. It sounded like barefoot slapping against…. Concrete. I swung around, heart pounding, completely unaware of what I might find. It was a woman in a white night gown, with tears and rips in every other seam. She came bolting down the road towards me. Dirty feet crashing against the floor, crushing the leaves underfoot.
Her face filled with fear, her whole demeanour suggested she had only minutes to spare. Her eyes fixated on the road ahead. I moved to the side, and as she ran past me she shot me a glare, time slowed for that moment as I made eye contact. A look that told me both to leave but also that she was no threat.
*CLANG*
A large bell rang out producing a deafening sound from further down the road. I just stood there, confusion and panic, when shutters from every house began swinging shut. I looked towards the first pair of eyes that followed me, the ones that tracked my every move. The last ones to close the shutters… we maintained the longest eye contact yet… “what’s going on”- SLAM.
I felt alone. My heart pounded against the inside of my chest. What did the bell signify, what was the woman running from, why are the windows barred. I need to get back, immediately.
I plucked up the courage to drag my feet into gear and began a brisk walk in the direction which I came from. I hurried down the road looking for the turning on the right to take me back out past the old mill.
I got as far as the two houses from the end when suddenly something grabbed my arm pulling me so violently through a wooden door I nearly crashed to the floor inside. The door slammed seconds later and the feeling of a finger pressed up against my lips startled me. A voice whispered “Shhhh” before removing their finger.
“They don’t know we’re here” the voice ushered again. “They’ll be here soon, you’d never make it back in time”.
“Who are they?” I asked.
“You’ll see soon enough.” Quivered a shaken female voice.
“How do you know where I’m going? You said I wont make it back.”
“I wouldn’t worry about us knowing. I would be more worried about whether they know”.
After finishing the sentence the woman’s face lit up from behind a candle lantern. She had long messy blonde hair. It was covered in dirt and was in need of a good comb. Her eyes twinkled in the light, it was hard to make out but I caught glimpses of brown as the flames reflected off the glass and onto her face which was small, delicately shaped and without any distinguishing features. She was wearing what looked like an old Victorian apron, it had a rip at the bottom and was covered in marks and mud. Under the apron was a black dress that hung down to her ankles and beyond that bare feet.
A sharp sudden gust of wind whipped against the front of the house, rattling the shutters which slammed into the metal bars. I could feel a cold shiver slither its way up my spine.
I then started to notice it was raining. At first it was a gentle shower, but soon enough the heavens had opened and the downpour began. The sound of rain crashing on the ground outside as puddles swelled and water streamed off of roof tops like tiny rivers. A crack of thunder reverberated across the sky. Deep penetrating rumbles echoed through the very foundations of the town.
I soon realised I wasn’t a prisoner here but I was being kept an eye on, however I got the feeling that was for both our benefits. Leaving now would likely jeopardise both of our safety, although I still wasn’t sure quite why that was.
I tried to take in my surroundings. It was eerily dark now, the light that earlier let itself in through the cracks and crevices was long gone. I was in some kind of hallway, the stairs straight ahead of me went directly up and there was a door to my left and a door to my right. The floors are just wooden floorboards, held down by nails that looked like they were ready to give up their job at any moment. Every step creaked and groaned.
The shutters in both rooms either side were firmly closed. The temptation to peep beyond one was eating me away from the inside, but I resisted the urge. I just want to see what’s going on outside. Rain continued to fill the silence and the thunder would occasionally crackle and boom as the shockwaves bellowed into the void.
“HERE THEY COME” A loud whisper that almost broke voice said.
Panic set in, whatever was going on was about to happen. I didn’t know what to do with myself, do I hide? Am I safe If I’m in here? I had so many questions and no answers.
The woman shuffled towards the front of the living room now only a couple of feet from the shutters. Quickly dousing the candle light the features on her face turned to darkness.
“Shhhhh” she repeated once more.
Rain. The pitter-patter on the puddles, the leaves, the roofs.
The tension was intensified as I strained to hear the sound of twigs snapping from somewhere in the trees. We both sat on the floor beneath the shutter, arms wrapped around our legs.
More wood snapped in the trees. Another bellow of thunder rumbled and ran deep through my body.
And then footsteps. There would be an occasional footstep and then nothing. Again a footstep, this time splashing in a puddle only meters down the road.
And then a thud. It came from the roof. Thump, thump, thump. Whatever was on the roof was moving, scanning and assessing the best way inside.
My heart was beating faster than I thought possible. If they couldn’t hear me breathe then maybe they can hear my heart pounding.
My only company, sat next to me trembling with fear. Fingers wrapped tightly over her mouth creating a sound proof seal. I did the same.
*thump* *thump* *thump*
Something was still up there.
A puddle splashed right outside the window. In-between me and, whatever was outside, was a layer of brick and a barred up window. A flash of lightning briefly illuminated up the sky and in turn created a temporary outline of shapes formed from the window and projected onto the floor in front of us.
The noise on the roof had stopped. Then there was a grunt, followed by clicking. Not the kind of clicking you would hear if you clicked your fingers but a communicative click, from the mouth that echoed across the air. Quick clicks, one after the other.
My hand was pressed so tightly against my face I wasn’t sure I would ever peel it off. In this moment the city life had never seemed so appealing.
The house creaked and groaned under the stress of the weather. The sound of clicking rang louder. It was clear there were more than one of these things.
*ring ring*
My heart throbbed at an alarming rate “oh fuck, oh fuck, not now!”
*ring ring*
The woman across from me suddenly shuffled back pushing herself across the floor with her hands, tucking herself into the corner, her eyes filled with terror. She was clearly distancing herself from me. I felt both petrified and incredibly guilty. This was NOT the time to finally get signal.
I whipped my flip phone out of my pocket and without even checking who it was I hit decline, held down the power button, flipped it shut and stuffed it back into my pocket. But it was too late. The sound of shrieks and the ominous echo of the clicking pulsated like sonar through my ears.
A crashing sound from the room above shuddered through the wooden floorboards overhead. The woman next to me rose to her feet and grabbed a fire poker from the fire place further along the wall. To my surprise she ushered for me to follow her and to stay close.
She began slowly shifting her weight from one foot to the next, deliberately dancing her way around boards she knew would squeak. I followed, attempting to place my feet in the very same spots she was. It was like navigating a mine field and I trusted she knew where they were.
Shudders rolled down my spine every time a crack of thunder or another wave of shrieks broke the silence. Rain still hammered against the roof and provided a shallow cover for the sound of creaks that leaked from the floorboards as we moved across the room.
Once into the hallway we shimmied our way up the stairs, hugging the wall and mentally preparing for a sudden fright.
The stairs led to a hallway directly ahead where you can go left or right. The sound came from above us which meant it was left at the top.
There was no candle light and you could barely see your hands in front of you. The air smelt musty and damp and every sound echoed against the empty pictureless halls. As I ran my hand along the wall for guidance I pulled more flaking paint off.
We reached an old wooden door that seemed to lead into the room we needed to clear. Hands shaking and breathe quivering the woman in front put her hand on the handle, composing herself and raising the poker in the air with her right hand. We waited for any noise and when met with silence she pulled the handle down and pushed the door open.
Poker raised high, cocked back and ready to swing, we burst through, there was no going back. Much to my short-lived relief I was still alive. I hadn’t been jumped at or pounced on, nor was anything waiting inside.
It was freezing cold, wind gusting in through the window sweeping with it the rain as it soaked the floor. Visibility was still nearly nothing but I could see a slither more as faint moonlight broke through the occasional thinning cloud. The noise we heard was one of the shutters, it had been knocked off its hinges by whatever was out there. Thankfully the bars had done their job preventing anything from getting inside.
Curiosity took over as I edged towards the window to peer outside. A flash of lightning illuminated the town and there it was, stood menacingly in the street below. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing…