The Cabin in the Woods

The first time I brought him to the cabin, I could sense his hesitation. The narrow dirt road wound through the dense forest, the trees pressing in on all sides like they had secrets to keep. When the cabin finally came into view, half-hidden by the fog, I felt a familiar comfort settle over me. This was my sanctuary.

 

“It’s perfect, isn’t it?” I asked, glancing at him.

 

He nodded, but his eyes told a different story. He was wary. I couldn’t blame him. The cabin had a way of unsettling people who weren’t used to its quiet.

 

Jack was waiting on the porch, leaning against the railing with his arms crossed. His dark eyes flicked toward us as we pulled up, his expression unreadable. He didn’t say a word as he helped unload the bags.

 

Later, as we settled in, he finally spoke. “You didn’t mention you’d be bringing company,” he said, his tone sharp.

 

“I thought it’d be good for all of us,” I replied, keeping my voice steady. “Besides, I trust him.”

 

Jack’s gaze lingered on me for a moment, then shifted to the fire crackling in the hearth. He didn’t trust easily, especially not with what we were facing.

 

That night, sleep didn’t come easy. The wind howled through the cracks in the cabin, and the creaks of the old wood played tricks on my mind. I woke several times, each time convinced something was out there in the dark.

 

When I finally gave up on sleep, I found Jack sitting in the living room, his rifle propped against his knee. His eyes didn’t leave the window.

 

“You’re on edge,” I said quietly, sitting across from him.

 

Jack didn’t look at me. “You know what’s out there, Emma. Bringing him here was a mistake.”

 

“He’s stronger than you think.”

 

Jack shook his head, his jaw tight. “This place has a way of breaking people.”

 

The next morning, I suggested a hike. I needed a distraction, and I wanted him to see the beauty of this place. As we walked deeper into the woods, the weight in my chest began to lift, if only a little.

 

“We found this place by accident,” I said, my voice carrying in the still air. “It felt like it was waiting for us.”

 

He didn’t say much, but I could tell he was listening. That was one of the things I liked about him. He had a quiet strength, a calm that could ground me even when the world felt like it was spinning out of control.

 

We reached the lake, its surface smooth and unbroken. I sat on a log, staring at the water.

 

“I needed to get away,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “From everything.”

 

He sat beside me, close enough that our shoulders touched. “Why did you bring me here, Emma?”

 

I turned to him, my heart pounding. “Because I trust you. And I need you to trust me, too.”

 

Before he could respond, Jack appeared from the trees, his face grim.

 

“We need to go,” he said. “Now.”

 

I didn’t hesitate. I knew better than to question Jack when he had that look in his eyes. We hurried back to the cabin, the sense of being watched growing with every step.

 

Inside, Jack bolted the door and pulled me aside. “It’s here,” he said, his voice low.

 

“It won’t stop, will it?” I asked.

 

Jack shook his head. “Not until it gets what it wants.”

 

That night, the cabin felt different. The air was colder, heavier. I could feel it, the presence just beyond the walls. When the lights flickered and died, I knew it was time.

 

“We have to trust each other,” I said, looking him in the eye. “Do you trust me?”

 

His hand tightened around mine. “I do.”

 

I led him to the hidden door in the floor, revealing a narrow passage that led to the shelter. “Stay here,” I told him. “I’ll handle this.”

 

He started to protest, but I was already moving. I couldn’t let him face it, not when he didn’t understand what we were up against.

 

The cabin was silent as I stepped back into the main room, the darkness pressing in around me. I could feel it watching, waiting. Jack stood by the window, rifle in hand.

 

“It’s stronger this time,” he said.

 

“We’ll end it together,” I said.

 

We faced the darkness head-on, the air vibrating with tension. Jack fired into the shadows, and for a moment, the cabin seemed to hold its breath. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the presence was gone.

 

In the stillness that followed, I felt a weight lift. It was over.

 

Later, as we sat by the fire, the warmth slowly returning, I leaned against him, exhaustion and relief washing over me.

 

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” I said softly.

 

He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer. “I’ll always be here for you, Emma.”

 

For the first time in what felt like forever, I believed it.