Friday, February 2, 2024
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| Horror story |
It was a night like no other, the darkness thick and suffocating, as Jake slid out of view, hot tears of panic welled in his eyes. The phantom shape faded back into the night, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. Slowly, he turned towards his sister, Emma, who was sitting bolt upright in bed, eyes round and filled with terror.
The room was engulfed in darkness, and Jake could feel the weight of an invisible presence. "Emma, it's okay, you're okay," he whispered urgently, helplessness and guilt swirling within him. Emma remained locked in her mute nightmare, writhing in anguish, her hands clamped tightly over her ears.
Still holding on to Emma, barely breathing, Jake watched the old brass knob rattle ominously. After an agonizing minute, the rattling ceased, and heavy footsteps moved past their room, creaking down the hallway toward the living room. The front door groaned open, sending a winter chill spider webbing across Jake's skin. The footsteps paused on the threshold, then left, disappearing into the night. It was only then that Jake fully comprehended how close they had come to a horrible fate. Some creature or intruder had made its way inside the cabin during the night because someone hadn't closed the door completely.
The next morning, a feeling of gloom hung over the cabin. They all picked at their breakfast in silence, eyes downcast. The cheerful morning light filtering through the windows seemed to mock the despair that had settled upon them during the dark hours of the night.
Within an hour, the car was loaded up and idling in the driveway. Jake took one last look around the cozy cabin that had become their cage, their fragile shelter from the darkness. Part of him wanted to beg his parents to stay, thinking maybe things would be better now. But he knew deep down that they were right to flee this place and never return.
Even away from that place, she was scarred in a way he could not understand. The next several days passed by in a haze. Emma stayed curled up in her bed, hardly eating or speaking, except for occasional violent nightmares that wrenched her from her sleep.
Jake's parents tiptoed around her, offering reassurances. Neither they nor Jake believed that their lives were irreparably ruptured. About a week after returning home, Jake was reading in his room when he heard the front door open and close.
He looked out the window to see Emma hurrying down the street, moving with purpose for the first time since they got back. Jake dropped his book and raced outside. She had made it a few blocks before he caught up, and by then, they were both panting.
In the following days, she seemed to come out of her catatonic state. She became more engaged with friends and family again, less prone to trance-like staring fits. Jake held out hope that the horrors of that cabin would fade into the past for both of them. But some deeper instinct warned him that the scars ran too deep for Emma. These fears were confirmed a year later when he walked in on her in the midst of a seizure. Her eyes rolled back, limbs flailing about. He tried to hold her still, yelling desperately for his parents.
Later at the hospital, tests and screenings couldn't determine what caused her episode. But Jake knew some sort of splinter of darkness, which had infested those woods, had burrowed inside Emma. In the years since, he watched his sister struggle against that latent evil, fighting to keep it buried down in her psyche.
Jake often considered urging Emma to discuss what horrors she glimpsed in the window that night, hoping that confessing might bring some relief. But the shadows of the silent night continued to haunt them both, and the darkness within Emma seemed to be an unyielding force, a malevolent presence that refused to be extinguished.
Silently, Jake stumbled over to her bed and wrapped her in his arms. She struggled, head shaking back and forth, refusing to fully resurface into reality. Jake choked back tears as he gripped her tightly.
"Emma, it's me, your brother. I'm right here,"
he murmured like a mantra, rocking them gently as hateful cries raged outside. Eventually, the rocking seemed to work. Emma went still, rigid in Jake's embrace, no longer fighting. However, her small frame continued to tremble as they huddled together. As the wailing gradually faded back into silence, exhaustion overtook Jake. The adrenaline drained away, and they gave in to sleep. Startled awake sometime later, a rattling sound filled the room. Jake's eyes searched for the source, identifying the noise as the doorknob to their bedroom slowly twisting back and forth.
Someone or something was trying to get in
Luckily, it found itself barred from entry to their bedroom. If that bedroom door had not been locked, Jake shuddered to think about what would have happened. Terrifying visions of his parents being slaughtered in their own beds flashed through his mind. There would be no more sleep for Jake that night as he clung to his sister, grappling with the bleak knowledge that a flimsy door with an even flimsier lock was all that stood between them and the unspeakable horror that roamed from the woods and into their cabin.
The next morning, a feeling of gloom hung over the cabin. They all picked at their breakfast in silence, eyes downcast. The cheerful morning light filtering through the windows seemed to mock the despair that had settled upon them during the dark hours of the night.
As soon as the sun had risen, Jake's dad went outside to start packing up the car. His face was pale when he came back in, but all he would say was that they were leaving as soon as possible. Jake's mom fluttered around, tidying things with trembling hands before tossing the last few items into their suitcases. Jake could tell she was on the verge of tears but was fighting to hold herself together. Emma sat curled up on the sofa, gaze unfocused. She had not said a word all morning. Jake wished he could comfort her somehow, convince her that she was safe now. But the light of day did not feel like sanctuary anymore. There really was no escape from what happened the night before.
Within an hour, the car was loaded up and idling in the driveway. Jake took one last look around the cozy cabin that had become their cage, their fragile shelter from the darkness. Part of him wanted to beg his parents to stay, thinking maybe things would be better now. But he knew deep down that they were right to flee this place and never return.
The drive home was solemn and silent. Emma slept fitfully in the back seat while Jake stared listlessly out the window. Now that they were away from danger, his mind churned with questions.
What were those creatures that prowled the woods, making those sounds? Why did they target them? And what would have happened if it had gotten into their rooms?
Worst of all was the vacant, tortured look in Emma's eyes whenever the creatures came and howled. Jake shuddered to imagine what nightmarish visions she must have glimpsed through that window. What evil did she see that had brushed her mind and left its claw marks on her sanity?
Even away from that place, she was scarred in a way he could not understand. The next several days passed by in a haze. Emma stayed curled up in her bed, hardly eating or speaking, except for occasional violent nightmares that wrenched her from her sleep.
Jake's parents tiptoed around her, offering reassurances. Neither they nor Jake believed that their lives were irreparably ruptured. About a week after returning home, Jake was reading in his room when he heard the front door open and close.
He looked out the window to see Emma hurrying down the street, moving with purpose for the first time since they got back. Jake dropped his book and raced outside. She had made it a few blocks before he caught up, and by then, they were both panting.
She glanced at him when he grabbed her shoulder, but she pulled away and continued on. He followed at a distance as she wound through side streets and alleys. Eventually, they reached the outskirts of town, where sagging abandoned warehouses lined the train tracks, graffiti spattered their gray walls beneath broken windows. Emma slipped through a hole in a chain-link fence and approached the nearest warehouse. Jake lingered by the fence, watching as she produced a lighter from her pocket and flicked a light in one smooth motion. She hurled the tiny flame through the nearest empty window frame.
He didn't know what the small flame hit, but suddenly, fire sprang up and engulfed the dry wooden interior. Emma's face seemed to glow in the firelight as she watched it burn. Jake backed away, frightened by the specter his sister had become.
When the sirens eventually screamed in the distance, Emma finally turned away from the inferno and made her way back to him. Together, they snuck into the shadows and returned home. Jake didn't tell anyone what Emma did because somehow it made her seem happier. She seemed to have purged some of that poison from her soul.
In the following days, she seemed to come out of her catatonic state. She became more engaged with friends and family again, less prone to trance-like staring fits. Jake held out hope that the horrors of that cabin would fade into the past for both of them. But some deeper instinct warned him that the scars ran too deep for Emma. These fears were confirmed a year later when he walked in on her in the midst of a seizure. Her eyes rolled back, limbs flailing about. He tried to hold her still, yelling desperately for his parents.
Suddenly, Emma's back arched up as she choked out a guttural scream, unlike any human sound. When Jake looked down at her face, she seemed so far gone. Then her rigid body went limp, and she passed out.
Later at the hospital, tests and screenings couldn't determine what caused her episode. But Jake knew some sort of splinter of darkness, which had infested those woods, had burrowed inside Emma. In the years since, he watched his sister struggle against that latent evil, fighting to keep it buried down in her psyche.
Jake often considered urging Emma to discuss what horrors she glimpsed in the window that night, hoping that confessing might bring some relief. But the shadows of the silent night continued to haunt them both, and the darkness within Emma seemed to be an unyielding force, a malevolent presence that refused to be extinguished.
As the years went by, the whispers of the woods echoed in Emma's nightmares, and the horrors of that cabin became an inescapable part of their shared reality. The story of that fateful night remained locked away in the shadows, waiting to be revealed in the deep, haunting recesses of Emma's tortured mind.