Lighthouse Horror Podcast - I Bought A Cabin In The Woods. There's A Secret Hatch In The Floor | Scary Stories

Episode Date: August 6, 2023

I finally opened it. Story from M00nfac3 Make sure to check out more of their work at u/M00nfac3         Original Post: The Cabin : r/nosleep               Original YouTube link: I Bought A Cabin In The Woods. There's A Secret Hatch In The Floor  For more stories like this one, check out my YouTube channel: Lighthouse Horror | YouTube  Patreon: Lighthouse Horror | Patreon Sound Effects: Freesound Zapsplat  Music: Lucas King - YouTube Myuu - YouTube  Incompetech Thank you for listening to this scary story! If you enjoyed this new creepypasta story, please check out some of my other horror stories. We'll be uploading new scary stories, new true stories, and new creepypasta stories every day!

I'm writing this so that people will know what happened and what drove me to do what I did. I'm writing this as a warning so that no one else will follow in my footsteps. It began last week I'd recently inherited some money, not I never have to work again money, but still a good amount. I instantly knew what I wanted to spend it on. I'd always wanted a small cabin in the woods where I could flee the everyday stretch. the city, all the shit we all have to deal with on a daily basis, a place just for me, where I could kick back by the fire and just recharge my batteries.

So a couple weeks ago I'm browsing the internet for cabins not too far away from where I live, and my curiosity was peaked by an ad on one of all the websites with houses for sale. A small one-story wooden cabin situated right by a medium-large lake in the middle of the woods. But another house for miles in any direction, and only about a two-hour drive from my home. It looked exactly like the cabin I've always seen in my mind whenever I've been daydreaming about having my own place like that. Now, it did seem to be a bit run down, but the price was almost too good to be true.

I just had to see this place with my own eyes. I called the agency that was in charge of selling it and set up a meeting with their agent. We decided that I was going to drive up to their office on Tuesday last week. So come Tuesday, I'm super excited all day and feeling real good about this place. Two minutes after I got off work, I'm in my car, typing in the address to the agency in my GPS, and off I go. The office was located in a small town, not too far from the cabin, about 30 minutes by car. The town itself was your typical small community with small shops and stores.

that looked like they'd been owned by the same families for generations. A small church. Kids playing in their yards with a fallen autumn leaves on the ground. It seemed to be a quiet, peaceful place to live, a typical everybody knows everybody place. The not-so- gentle GPS voice abruptly advised me that I was coming up to my final destination in a couple minutes. I took a turn and saw the sign for the agency on the other side of the street. I turned my car around at the next intersection, and when I came up to the place, a man was

standing outside with a briefcase, constantly checking his watch, clearly waiting for someone to arrive. I parked my car and got out to go over to the agency when the man looked over my way. Hey, you're here for the cabin, right? He said with a classic sail smile on his face. The cabin by the lake? Yes. Yes I am.

I replied. All right. Let's get going," he said, while shaking my hand firmly. Before we lose the last daylight. He got into his car that was parked down the street and asked me to follow him in my car. We drove out of the small town and was soon driving on twisted and turning small roads through the woods. The trees were exploding in autumn colors, yellow, orange, red.

It was mesmerizing. After driving about 30 or 40 minutes in this gorgeous scenery, the age of the age of the The agents took a sharp turn down a small dirt road. If you didn't know it was there, you probably never would have seen it. It was overgrown with high grass and a pretty bumpy ride. Luckily we only had to drive down it for about ten minutes. And then I saw it. The cabin.

I couldn't wait to go inside and check it out. I was so excited. I parked my car next to his and got out. So here we are. He said, God, what a beautiful place. I whispered to myself while looking around. The cabin looked just like in the ad, a small dark wooden house right next to the lake. The lake looked a lot bigger than it did on the small photos I'd seen.

The surroundings were all forest. Everywhere you looked, all you saw were those giant, ancient, majestic trees reaching for the skies, now full of colors. The ground was covered with the fallen leaves from the trees, and you were you were, He could really smell the fall in the air. Should we have a look? I heard him say. Yes, yes, of course. Show the way.

I said smiling. So this cabin's old, really old, the agent said while slowly walking towards the front door. In fact, we don't know who actually built it and when. He continued. But for as long as we've had a town record, this cabin has been here and we've been keeping record for about a hundred and forty years. Now, of course the cabin has seen a couple of different owners over the years, and most of them have modernized the place in some way or another when moving in.

For instance, there's running water, an indoor bathroom and electricity. There is however no landline telephone, and the cell reception out here is sketchy at best. Ah, no worries. I said. My plan is to come out here to get away from all that anyway. So that's actually just good. gives me another reason not to check my emails every five minutes. Ha ha, yeah, I know what you mean.

Come on, let's go inside." He said. The front door opened straight into a large living room. On the wall to my right, there was a big stone fireplace. And opposite to my left was a door to the bedroom, and next to that, the door to the bathroom. On the far side of the room, there was three big windows with an amazing view of the lake and the surrounding forest. It wasn't much more than that, which was perfectly fine by me. I certainly didn't need any more than this. I could already see myself sitting in front of the fire with a glass

of scotch and nothing on my mind. This place was perfect. I was so into it that I at first didn't even reflect over the fact that it was furnished. Yeah, the previous owners left everything behind, it seems. I can't for sure to tell you what happened to him. I just know we got a letter from them including the keys to the cabin, saying they had to move and that we should contact them when the place got sold to wire them the money. You can keep the furniture if you want, or replace it, whatever you want." He said, "'Weirred,' I thought, but not unheard of. People can have to move in a hurry for any number of reasons. I looked around, and the furniture really did go well with the place. Big, strong,

wooden tables, a leather sofa that looked to be really comfy. Bookshel. lamps, it really gave the place a nice ambiance. I'll probably have to buy a new bed, though, I thought. I went over to the big windows to take another look of the amazing view, the last rays of the sun, gently kissing the lake in the woods. It was then that I first noticed an opening to my right on the same side as the fireplace. It led into a small kitchen. It had all the basics, nothing fancy, but just what you needed. There was a very small kitchen. There There was also a back door from the kitchen leading out to the backyard, right by the lake. I was looking through the drawers and cabinets, when I noticed that the floor sounded different

in the middle of the kitchen. There was a small carpet there, and when I pushed it away with my foot, it revealed a hatch underneath. I looked over to the agent who was leaning against the wall by the kitchen entrance. Go ahead, he said, motioning with his head towards the hatch. I leaned down and grabbed the handle and pulled the hatch towards me. It creaked and groaned like it hadn't been opened in fifty years. The deep, dark, empty space beneath stared back at me as I was trying to see what was down there. A steep wooden staircase, with questionable stability, led down into the darkness.

I looked around for a flashlight, and like he was reading my mind, the agent came over and handed one to me. You go," he said with a smile. I always keep one on me whenever I go into the woods. I started to descend the stairs with one hand firmly gripping the wall and the other holding the flashlight illuminating the steps in front of me. About 15 steps down, I made it to what looked to be a classic dirt cellar, like in the old days when you needed somewhere to keep your food from spoiling if you didn't have access

to a refrigerator. This dirt cellar, however, was a bit different. It looked like someone had used it as an office of some sort. There was a desk and two big bookshelves along the walls packed with books of all sizes. What an odd place to put an office, I thought. I shined the flashlight around the small space and saw that there was an old oil lamp hanging from a hook in the ceiling. I took it down and brought it with me back up to the kitchen. I got a sense. I really love this place. But I got to ask, why the cheap price?

I said, Well, to be honest, we've had this place on the market for quite some time now without any luck. I really don't know why, because as you've seen yourself, it's a beautiful and well-maintained place. Hell, if I had the money myself. It really is something, I said, slowly looking around. You know what? I'll take it.

Where do I sign? I didn't think he could possibly smile any wider than he'd done this whole time, but when I said I wanted to buy the place, I swear I thought his face would crack from how wide his smile was. Right here, he said, while opening his briefcase that he'd been holding onto, he tossed it up on the kitchen counter and opened the clasps on either side and pulled out a stack of papers. He had the contract drawn up and ready to be signed. here, here, there, initials there, and there.

He looked almost like someone who had nine out of ten lottery numbers down and just waited for that jackpot number. I put down my last initials and noticed how he was breathing heavily and had started to sweat a little. There you go. He almost shouted. You're officially a cabin owner. Congratulations.

Thank you very much, I said. But uh, what about the money? Oh, there's an account number in there somewhere. He said while pointing to my copy of the contract. Just wire the money when you can. I trust you. Okay. Yeah, I'll do that as soon as I have access to the internet again.

Perfect. Well, I gotta go. I have a long drive home and it's really getting dark out there. He said while walking towards the front door. Yeah, me as well. I said, following him. He suddenly stopped and turned around. You mean you're not staying here tonight?

He asked. No, no, I have worked tomorrow, need to get some stuff from home before I can stay the night here. I'll probably drive up this weekend to get settled. Oh, I see, he said, looking almost disappointed. Well, drive safe and don't hesitate to call if you have any questions. And with that, he was out the door and within minutes, he was just to be. driving down the dirt road again.

I took a last look around and then locked up, and went out to my car to drive home. It was completely dark out by now, and I had to take it real easy to find my way out to the main road again, quietly reminding myself that I needed to look over that dirt road and clean it up a bit. I'd been driving for about ten minutes on the main road back, twisting and turning, when I came up to a sharp right turn. The second I came around the corner, I all of a sudden saw a person step out of the woods right in front of my car. I slammed down the brakes, but it was too late.

The person in front of me turned her head and looked me straight in the eye. It all went so fast, but I could clearly see that it was an old lady. She was smiling ear to ear. I closed my eyes waiting for the unavoidable impact, but it never came. The car slid to a halt. and I slowly opened my eyes again. My heart beating like crazy. I was breathing so hard I almost passed out before I could calm myself down. I looked around me, but I couldn't see anything outside. So I got out of the car and looked around. There was no one. I was sure she'd been there just

seconds ago. I could still see her creepy old face in front of me. Had I fallen asleep? After a while, I got back to my car and drove all the way home without anything else happening. So Wednesday and Thursday came and went, I'd put the incident with the car behind me, and rode it down as stress or sleep deprivation, and was so ready to get back up to my cabin to spend my first of many weekends there. My bags were packed, and already in my car. I hadn't had time to look for a new bed yet, but figured that I'd just throw some blankets over the existing one and make it through the first couple of nights like that. I sat at my office and counted down the minutes, slammed my laptop together, packed my stuff, and took the elevator

down to the garage, got in the car, took a deep breath. Finally, I was on my way. I got up to the cabin around 6 p.m. The sun was slowly setting, and the trees looked just as beautiful as a couple of days ago. After unloading my stuff, I immediately got a fire going in the big fireplace and filled up a big mug with fresh-brewed black coffee. I started to look a bit more closely on the stuff that the previous owners had left behind. There was some real nice things here. An old 50s radio, you know, the one that takes up half the room, a typewriter, some figurines. I started to go through the books on the bookshelf and noticed that they all had the same theme. They were old books about spirituality, religions, dark magic, crystals, and stuff like that.

I'd never been interested in any of those things, but I got intrigued. I pulled one of the books out and sat down on the couch, skimming through it while sipping my coffee. I can't understand how people can still believe in this stuff, I thought to myself while flipping through the pages. I went to put the book back when I noticed the painting hanging over the fireplace. How would I not notice this before? It was a big oil painting, a painting of this very cabin.

It looked really old, but the cabin basically looked the same as it did now. The quality was amazing. So many details, small differences in the colors of the wood on the house, the hundreds of leaves on the trees, each carefully painted the way the sun broke through the clouds in the sky and reflected on the leaves. lake. The lady in the window. Wait. What lady? I looked again. There was no one in the window. I swear I saw someone there just now. I must be getting tired and hungry. I could hear my stomach growl. I had eaten since lunch. I brushed away the unsettling feeling of the painting and went

into the small kitchen. Damn, I was supposed to stop and buy groceries on on my way up. I totally forgot I had literally nothing to eat. I best drive into the small town to get some food, I thought, while putting my jacket back on. I got out to my car and started to drive away. When I looked in my rear view mirror and saw the exact spot that the painter must have been standing on, I could swear I saw someone in the window, if only for a split second. I stopped and turned around to get a better look, and there was no one. My mind is just playing tricks on me. I just need to eat, I thought, and kept driving. I got into the town and parked my car and started to walk around. It really was a small place, one main street and a couple of smaller ones,

with mostly homes of different sizes. I found a small grocery store and went inside. There wasn't much to choose from, so I got some basic stuff and went to the register to pay. The owner was an elderly gentleman with a white beard and round glasses. He reminded me of Santa, I remember thinking. He looked at me with a suspicious look. You're not from around here, are you? He said, while staring me right in the eye. No, no, I just bought a cabin up here, actually, out by the lake, spending my first weekend out here as a matter of fact. I said with a smile. Cabin by the lake, huh?

He said, while slowly registering my purchase. Yeah, just a small place. I see. He said, and this is your first night. That's right, just needed to get some food out there. I responded while pulling out my wallet to pay the old man. Mr. He said firmly.

If I were you, I would. get in my car and drive back to wherever you came from." He said, I just looked at him. Dumbfounded. I didn't really know what to respond to that, so I just grabbed my groceries and started to walk towards the door, casting one last look back at him before I went outside. I'm serious, he said when I turned back to him, Forget about the cabin. Go home. Why?

I heard myself ask. That place isn't right. I know what cabin you mean. Stay away. Go back home and forget about it. He said. I laughed a nervous laugh. Yeah. I think I'll be all right. I said. Yeah. That's what they all say. The old man muttered, Don't say I didn't warn you.

I slowly walked out of there and closed the door behind me. That was weird, I thought. I started to walk down the street and realized I was close to the agency where I'd met the agent on Tuesday. But when I came up to where I'd met him, the place was all boarded up. And what was odd was that it looked like it had been that way for some time. The wood on the boards looked old and weathered, like it had been nailed to the wall for years. There was no sign of having had any business in years, let alone three days before.

The growling sounds from my stomach brought me back to my senses, and I slowly started to walk back to my car. On my way, I remember that I still had the agent's number in my list of recently called numbers on my phone. He did say I could call if I had any questions. I called him up to check what had happened to their office, but as soon as I hit dial, I got the familiar tone of a number that had been disconnected. That's odd, I thought.

I'll try him again tomorrow. The whole drive back, I couldn't shake the comments from the old man in the grocery store. He really sounded like he meant what he said. He sounded almost scared for my well-being. Like he knew something I didn't. I go back and talk to him. What did he mean by that's what they all say? Who? I decided I'd speak to him again next time I got into town. When I got back to the cabin, I parked the car and went inside. I was so hungry I was about to pass out. I went into the kitchen and found a saucepan that didn't look too nasty. I cleaned it up as good as I could and started to fry some eggs and bacon the best I could find in that small store. I noticed the old oil lamp on the kitchen table that I'd brought up from the dirt cellar. I wondered if the old owners had left any lamp oil laying around, and started to look around

the kitchen shelves. After moving some stuff around, I found a bottle with some left in it, and filled up the lamp and lit it. It gave a real cozy light and a nice smell. I left it on the kitchen table while finishing making my late dinner. When I sat down to eat, I started to think about the cellar. It really was a strange place to have an office. No windows, cold, dark.

I needed to check it out some more. I finished my dinner and placed the dishes in the sink. Before I checked out the cellar, I had to put some more wood on the fire. You could really start to feel that this was an old place, not great insulation. If the fire went out, it would get real cold in here real fast. I went out into the living room. The fire was almost dead already. It was dark. In the window by the front door, the same window that you could see in the painting over the fireplace was an old, ugly lamp. I went over and turned it on. It flickered a bit, but lit up after a while.

I went over to the fireplace and found two big logs in the basket next to it. These will do fine, I thought, and tossed them on the fire. I turned to go back to the window and cellar, when out of the corner of my eye I saw the painting. There's a light in the window, I remember thinking. I did a double tank and looked over there again. No, there's no light, there's no woman. My mind is just playing tricks on me again, I thought. Must be all this fresh air or internet abstinence or something. I got back into the kitchen and rolled up the carpet to reveal the hatch. I grabbed the handle and opened it up again. This time I didn't have the agent's flashlight to guide me.

I had to take the oil lamp with me. It didn't light up anywhere near as well as a flashlight, but it was better than nothing. I got down there and started to look around. The desk was an old massive wooden desk, oak, I think. How on earth did they get this down? here, through that narrow hatch and that steep staircase. The floor was basically just packed dirt. The walls made of wood, the same kind as the rest of a cabin.

Two big bookshelves stood to my right, packed with books. They were all in the same category as the books upstairs, crystals, demons, witches, stuff like that. Some looked extremely old with cracked spines, leather-bound. I pulled one of the older-looking books out and blew the dust off the cover. There was a faded image of a mountaintop in the foreground and what looked like a fire behind it. I flipped through the pages. It was written in some foreign language I couldn't understand.

It looked like nothing I'd ever seen before. I put it back and continued to check out the books. I thought I could see something behind some of the older books. I removed them and held the oil-lorned. lamp up to get a better look. There, in the back of the shelf, was another book, but this one seemed to be a bit newer than the others. There was no title, no image on the front. In fact, it looked more like a diary than a book. I got intrigued. It was too dark to read down there, so I went to bring the book with me upstairs again. The second I got to the staircase,

the hatch above me slammed shut. I got so steep. I startled I dropped the book and almost dropped the lamp as well. I rushed up the stairs and tried to open it, but it wouldn't give way. It lifted a few inches and then slammed shut again, almost like someone was standing on it above. I swear, I heard a giggle. I started to freak out and was about to yell out for help when I realized there was no one around for miles. But as quickly as it had started, it stopped.

All of a sudden the weight lifted and I could open the hatch again. I quickly went down and got the book back up from the floor and rushed back upstairs again, where I just threw myself on the kitchen floor and lay breathing for a while, wondering what the hell just happened. I got up and closed the hatch, then went into the living room and sat down in the leather couch in front of the fire. Alcohol. I need alcohol, I thought, and remember that.

I'd packed a bottle of scotch in one of my bags. I got it out and found a glass in the kitchen. I gave myself a real generous drink and went back to the couch and took a big sip. Was it all in my head? Was I imagining? Was I freaking myself out with all these incidents? The painting, the agency being boarded up, the old man, the hatch, all the weird books. I had another sip.

Then I turned to the diary. I opened it up and read the first two sentences. I'm writing this so that people will know what happened and what drove me to do what I did. I'm writing this as a warning so that no one else will follow in my footsteps. I continued, but if you're reading this, chances are it's already too late for you. If you've come so far as to have found the cellar and the diary, then you probably are have signed the contract. I looked up.

I had the strangest feeling of being watched. I looked around, but I was alone. I went back to reading. If you have signed the contract, it's too late. You've already given yourself to her. You probably already know who I mean. You've seen her out of the corner of your eye, maybe in the cabin, maybe in the woods. maybe even in that damn painting over the fireplace.

I looked up at the painting. No light in the window. No woman. I kept reading. That damn painting is cursed. I threw it on the fire only to find it back on the wall the next day. And that was just the start. I tried to get away.

But it was pointless. No matter how I tried, I still ended up where I'd see. started in that cabin. I have now realized that there's only one way out. Tonight, I'm going to hang myself in the cellar. I won't let her win. She can't have me or my soul or whatever it is she wants from me. I'm going out on my own terms. I'm sorry to say, but if you're reading this, You probably want to do the same. Soon. I shut the book hard.

Screw this, I said out loud. I'm going home. I grabbed my jacket and bolted out of the door and got into my car and turned the key. It wouldn't start. I tried it again and again and again, but it was dead. I got out again and started to walk fast down the dirt road. I'll find a ride once I hit the main road. I thought. I started to run. I ran and ran. Man, was this road always this long? After running for at least

15 minutes in a straight line, I saw a light again. Finally, I thought, maybe it's a car. I ran faster, and then I fell to my knees in disbelief. The light in front of me was from the old, ugly lamp, the lamp in the window of the cabin. How? I hadn't made a single turn. How could I be back? I looked behind me, and there in the distance, I thought I saw someone standing in the middle of the road. I got up and ran back to the cabin. I went back in and locked the door. I needed a plan. I needed to get out of here. What the hell is this place? My thoughts were interrupted by the painting, all of a sudden falling to the floor. up and slowly went to pick it up, but dropped it as soon as I looked at it.

There was a woman standing outside the cabin on the painting. Right outside the front door. Clear as day. I stumbled back and fell down on the couch. I slowly turned my head towards the front door, and I saw the door handle slowly turn. I flew up to make sure the door was locked and then ran to the kitchen. in and out the back door. I had to try again to get out of here. I took off to my left into the woods and followed the shore of the lake. There's bound to be another house somewhere along

the shore, I thought. I tripped and fell, got branches in my face, and tore my shirt on the thorns, but I didn't stop. After about 20 minutes, I saw a clearing up to my left, up in the woods. It looked like a camping spot. Maybe there's someone. there that can help me. I tried to move as quiet as I could, but when I came to the clearing, it was empty. Wait, was it? There were markings on the trees. I got up closer. It looked like the same language that I'd found in the old books, almost Latin, but not quite. Three rows of text on one tree and some carvings. It was hard to make out in the darkness, but it looked like a crescent moon and something else. In the middle of the clearing, there was a big stone circle on the ground.

Twigs bound together, resting on the trees. I went back down to the shore and moved on in the same direction that I'd been going before. I looked back out over the lake. I could clearly still see the cabin way back there. It looked perfectly peaceful from here. And then I turned my head to move on, And there in front of me it stood, the damn cabin. I looked back again, a mist lay over the lake blocking the view. Other than that, nothing but woods. I just saw the cabin behind me, and now here it is, as if I'd ran a circle around the lake and come up to it from the right-hand side.

I could feel my sanity go. I'm losing it. This can't be real. I must have crashed my car on the way up here and ended up in a coma or something. And this is all a dream. Yes. Yes, that's it. This is a dream.

This isn't happening. Reality doesn't work this way. I had no choice but to go back to the cabin. I was freezing. I got back in through the kitchen door and closed it behind me. I carefully looked around. No one in the kitchen. The hatch was closed, empty in the living room, bathroom, bedroom. The painting looked normal again, front door still locked.

I sat down in the couch again and poured another drink. The fire was still going. I could feel myself calm down a bit. I grabbed the diary that still lay beside me, and I kept reading. I just can't see another way out. I don't know what has. happens if she catches you. I don't want to know. All I know is that I've been up here for three days now and I can't get out. I've tried getting to the main road. I've tried running out into the woods. I've even tried swimming over the damn lake. No matter what I try, I always end up right back here at the cabin. This place is cursed. I even tried to burn it to the ground, but the fire wouldn't take. It's a wooden cabin and the fire wouldn't take.

God. I'm writing this as a warning, but I don't know if it'll make any difference. On my last day here today, I found a diary myself, written by the last owner, with a warning for me, or whoever would have found it. Poor guy before me couldn't take it either. He had ended his stay here and on this earth by going out into the lake to drown himself. I think hanging probably is faster. If I only had a gun, I could end it in a second. I truly hope no one needs to read this, but if you do, I'm so sorry. I lay the book down and stared into the fire.

If this really is a dream, a coma, maybe I need to die here to wake up in the hospital. Either way, I can't take any more of this. The panic slowly starting to return. I could feel tears rolling down my cheeks. It's not like I'd be missed. Sure, they'd have a moment at work, say a few things about me, but that's it. I don't have a family. No girlfriend, no wife, no kids. to try. I have to try to die so that maybe I can live again. If this really is a dream, maybe it's my only way out. As soon as I'd made up my mind, the old radio started to crackle and the dial lit up in a sickeningly yellowish light, the needle of the dial slowly moving through the frequencies by itself. A voice in the distance behind the static.

Oh, you're mine. You sign the contract. You will not bereft me of what I own. You belong to me." There was a loud bang on the door, and the handle started to wiggle furiously. I stood up in panic, staring at the door, then at the radio, the dial now flying back and forth, and the room filled with loud white noise. I ran to the kitchen, grabbed the oil lamp, opened the hatch, and went down.

I tried to barricade it so that you couldn't open it from the other side. All I found was some rope. I tied it to the hatch and secured it to the staircase and moved down. I started to look around. I didn't know for what. I glanced back up at the rope. Was it enough? I stopped and looked.

There was a sturdy beam in the ceiling. Yes, I'll follow the last guy here, but first I went through the drawers and after a while found this book, this empty diary. I had to write this down. This is my warning to you, whoever you are. This is my goodbye. Maybe I'll wake up somewhere in a hospital bed with tubes coming out of me and machines all around. Maybe not.

I just can't take it anymore. I have to chance it. As I'm writing this, I can hear screaming coming from the white noise upstairs. I can hear furniture being thrown. I need to end this now before she gets to me. I'm using the rope from the hatch and that beam. I hope you never have to read this, but I'm leaving the book in plain sight on the desk down here. Goodbye.

Was I dead? I opened my eyes. I was lying on the dirt floor, rope around my neck. My head hurt, blood was dripping into my eye. What had happened? I tried to get up, but I was pinned down. I tried to hang myself, but the beam had broken and knocked me out. It looked like the back of the room was about to cave in.

I managed to get out from under the beam and sat up on my knees. I couldn't breathe. I loosened the noose and tossed it to the floor, breathing hard and deep. The beam had knocked over one of the bookshelves, and there was something behind it. What was that? A room? I managed to stand up and limp over to the bookshelf, still standing up, and leaned against it.

The oil lamp was still burning on the desk. I took it and moved closer to the opening. I had to push the heavy shelf to the side, to be able to be able to. able to slide in behind it. I entered the hidden space and held up the lamp. It looked like there was an altar in the back of the room. A big stone altar, bowls with something in it. It looked like dried blood mixed with some other stuff. The smell was nauseating. The walls were covered in weird symbols. In the center of the altar, there was another book. It looked like it was bound by small patches of leather. Was it leather? It almost felt like skin. On the front,

there was a symbol of an eye and a crescent moon. It looked like it had been burnt into the skin. I opened the book. I couldn't read it, but somehow I knew that this book was connected to everything that was happening. Maybe if I destroyed it. I grabbed it and limped back out to the dirt cellar and up the staircase. There were still no sounds coming from up there. I tried to move as quiet as I could up the stairs and through the hatch. As soon as I'd come up, I started to feel sick. I wanted to throw up. Everything was spinning. The white noise came back with a vengeance. It was deafening. It was like it was in my head. I could feel blood starting to drip from my ears.

I have to destroy this book. That was all I could think of. I kept getting weaker and I fell to the ground. But I mustered all the strength I had left and I started to crawl towards the living room. It felt like I was crawling up a steep hill like gravity had shifted. I grabbed hold of the wall by the opening and pulled myself closer. The fireplace, I have to throw the book in the fire. I thought. I managed to get to the living room, but I had no strength left. I could barely even breathe.

I threw myself on the floor. I had a narrow angle to the fireplace, and I saw the painting above it. It had changed again. The forest was burning. The lake looked like it was boiling lava. In the window of the painting she stood. I could see her clearly now, her old wrinkly face. Her eyes, pure white eyes.

It felt like she was staring into my soul. I turned my head to look over to the actual window, and there she stood, her back to me. She slowly turned her head towards me. This was it. I had one chance or I would be hers to do with as she pleased. I aimed, still lying down, and with the very very very. Last of my strength, I threw the book towards the fire. Time slowed down.

It seemed like everything was happening in slow motion. In the blink of an eye she was over me. Her eyes just inches from mine. Her dark, wet, greasy hair covering my face, her ice cold hand gripping my wrist. I could feel her yellow long nails bury themselves in my skin. I could feel myself dying from the inside, when in the corner of my eye I saw the book disappear into the flames. An ear-piercing screech followed. It felt like the whole cabin imploded, a bright white light, and then nothing. I woke up yesterday in the hospital. They say a couple

of hikers found me out in the woods at what looked like a camp spot. Apparently, Finally I'd been lying there in the middle of a big stone circle, unconscious, dried blood everywhere, torn clothes, bruises all over. I wasn't sure what had happened. I remembered everything, but I couldn't even believe it myself. It had to have been a dream, I thought. That was until they came to change my bandages. There on my wrist was too...

two barely visible scars, a crescent moon, and an eye.