The Cabin

Trees filtered the nights moon, and the path was overgrown to an extreme, but John still managed to find his way down hill. He had run for hours, but felt more drained than he should. A fork in the path met him in an instant, but confusion did not follow. John felt strangely comfortable running down this path, and knew that he should bear left, but he didn't know why. The howl of wolves followed him and he began to feel desperate. The trees to the rights slowly cleared, and the moon reflected off of the surface of a large lake, and on the other side, a cabin sat in darkness. It appeared to be a refuge, but a trepidation gripped john's heart as he rounded the lake and approached the door. The echo of a wolf's cry sent him tearing through the doorway.

The cabin was dark, and the moonlight streaked through the lone window in the wall, and painted a ribbon of blue on the floor. It appeared to be a single room with no furniture, and no decorations, but john felt like he wasn't alone. Just out of the moonlight, a raspy breath came from the shadows.

"Who's there?" John inquired of the darkness

"I find it strange that an intruder would ask me who's there. I would say that it is in my right to question you, not the other way round."

The voice that met John struck fear into his heart and made his stomach churn. If a man could speak with gravel in his throat while drinking, it would sound no more decayed than this voice. John composed himself and answered the shadows.

"I got lost in the woods, and was chased by beasts through the night."

"You've been lost for far longer than you know."

"I don't follow." John replied, feeling uneasy.

"You came out in the woods to find yourself years ago, you don't remember running for near a decade now? You don't recall the hour you decided to run instead of face me? You don't recognize where you are?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Anger began to boil up in John, and he felt a sudden urge to run, to face the wolves instead of this shadowed figure.

"You don't remember? Let me help, nine years ago, you stepped into these woods to find meaning, and you came upon this cabin. You decided that you didn't want to find anymore out about yourself so you left, but the wolves still chased you, but at least you could leave me behind. Yes, you must remember."

As the sound of the shadows' voice died, a crack like wood snapping broke the silence, and the sound of stones rubbing together created a spark. What looked like a cigar was lit, and the light revealed a bloodied face with one eye remaining, and cheeks that had more blood than flesh on them.

John recoiled in horror, and the smell of burnt flesh met him as he realized that there was no cigar, but in fact a finger that had been recently removed.

The light from it shone on a face that John recognized, through the cracked teeth and broken flesh, John remembered the specter. He never wanted to find this again, running was far more simple. The face sent him into a rage, and he lunged at the shadows, swinging wildly. His fists met flesh, and he continued to strike at it over and over again for hours until he realized that he was smashing pieces of a mirror, it's shards dug into his bloody hands.

Now there was nothing left, and a sense of comfort and peace filled John. With a deep breath he rose up, snapped his bony fingers, and lit a cigar. With a single stride towards the door, John stepped outside, and walked into a pack of wolves. Yet this time, he didn't run.