\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1905817-The-Cabin-in-the-Woods
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Emotional · #1905817
an Isolation peice...about James and what he thinks about when alone with no distractions.
         The moon wasn’t full, but its light, reflecting off the snow was bright enough to give James a clear view of the deserted Meadow through the window. It was kind of depressing. During spring and summer the Meadow would have been full of wildflowers and grasses, so full of life that just looking at it in a photo could lift one’s spirits. The Meadow would normally help James forget his troubles for a while, but as is, it had no power to stop his mind from reliving the job. It hadn’t been one of his normal assignments and although he had completed the job it had been done in a way that was not what he was used to. James knew that this had been the reason for his current captivity. The cabin was the organization’s safe house where operatives waited out any initial heat from job completions. James had never been here so long, not once in his fifteen year activation within the organization. It was a nice place as cabins went. A one and a half story, wooden structure nestled in a secluded part of La Sal Mountain range facing the repressed State of Utah.
         The main entrance was a single door on the left side of the house, a carved monstrosity full of bears, wolves, and other predatory animals from the surrounding forest in full attack mode. The door hurt the eyes to many with an eye for that sort of thing. On the other side of the front door was the enclosed front porch or side porch if a person wanted to get technical. The porch was filled with an odd assortment of porch accessories, none of which matched, but it served its purpose.
         The Main Floor was one big room with a sunken living room in the center. There was no TV in the space just a couch, black leather, two matching armchairs; a coffee table made from some dark wood James didn’t know the name of, and a side table from Ikea that seemed so out of place. The cabin wasn’t made for entertainment, not really. The Cabin was meant for hiding so little if any contact with the outside world was allowed.
From the front door across the living room there was a large fireplace that could heat the whole main floor
         “A marble fireplace in a wooden cabin lost in the middle of nowhere.” said James his voice sounding hollow in the silent cabin as he smirked that the oddity.
         To the left of the front door was just a wall of windows facing the meadow, a weak point, thought James whenever he had come to the cabin. The heavy curtains helped a little but a sniper could still get a shot off and you might never see it coming, no matter where you stood in the room. It gave operatives the feeling that they were about to be down sized at any moment, but the Blue Lords would never waste a safe house like that. They liked to employ poisons that killed without a trace leaving victims to look like they had died from natural causes. The key was there had to be an audience at some point, a safe house would never do as no one but an operative ever went there.
         Across from the windows sat an open kitchen, the stairs to the second floor, and two doors. One door led to a restroom and the back door, while the other door hid a walk-in closet. Why the cabin need a closet that big was beyond James. It wasn’t like that much space was any more help than a regular closet if an operative had to hid there.
The kitchen was another oddity about the cabin. The cabinets and drawers were made out of cedar, stained a dark red, while the counter tops were made out of another kind of hardwood, left unstained and natural. The sink was gold plated, while all the hardware was a dark brass. Whoever had decorated had no sense or care for symmetry.
         James continued to stare out at the meadow. His mind scattered with thoughts of the job, his confinement, and an increasing sense of boredom. It really wouldn’t have been so bad had there been anything to do. With the restriction on contacting the outside world the cabin had nothing. In addition to no TV the cabin lacked phones, internet, and a computer. The fax machine on the second floor was rigged to only receive messages from the organization, which would only happen when he could leave or in an emergency. The organization had provided a IPod dock so Operatives who had IPods could listen to music, but after a week of listening to the same songs and no way to update them playing music got old. No, there was nothing for James to occupy his mind. No way to run from this thoughts.
         He needed Isabelle. She would know what to do. They had been partners since he was recruited by the Organization. Isabelle had been his mentor, still was at times. She had become more over the years, much more. They had become lovers. Isabelle was intoxicating to be around. She was smart, funny and had a tongue on her that could be sharper than any blade. She was the perfect operative, quick witted, adaptable, could blend in anywhere. She was a master between the sheets, and had a body to match. She was able to bring pleasure or pain at will, a skill that came in handy at times when targets were too heavily guarded.
         If only Isabelle was with James instead of in Switzerland training recruits. For one thing she would have remembered where the weed was stashed. The organization provided curtain substances to operatives to help cope when stuck in a safe house, however most had to be hidden by necessity. Regretfully James couldn’t remember where the safe was hidden, and so was left with only the upstairs bar, fully stocked, to help cope with his isolation. James didn’t like getting drunk. It felt good in the beginning but always ended in pain.
         “Blast it all, how long must I be stuck here!” screamed James as he punched the wall. This was all Neo’s fault. If Neo had just fallowed the plan like he was supposed to instead of going off on his own James wouldn’t have to be stuck in the Cabin for this long. He still would have had to stay at the cabin, but he wouldn’t have been alone and it would have only been a three day stay.
         Truthfully Neo had been new, a graduate fresh out of training, but graduates should know how to take orders from senior operatives. Neo was dead now, killed by his stupidity, but that gave James little comfort.
         “Fuck it! I need a Drink.” exclaimed James with a sigh as he headed for the stairs. With nothing else to do he might as well drink himself stupid…
© Copyright 2012 O'dran McGlaggen (o_dran4life at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1905817-The-Cabin-in-the-Woods