Prompt: CABIN

Word Count: 1,896

Jerry was a good man, a man that gave back to his community, a man who always put a smile on your face. I knew Jerry for a while, we go way back you see, we had been friends since we were kids. I remember the first day we met, it was in middle school band class. I was drawing in my sketchbook and he came up and asked “What are you drawing?”. “Oh, it’s me” I replied, he responded “Wow, that looks really good”. It was a stick figure with poorly drawn clothes on, I never said I was an artist. Ever since that brief iteration, I don’t know, we’ve been thick as thieves. The more we talked, the more we got to know each other and how alike we are. We had a long running joke that we were the same person from different dimensions, somedays I honestly believed it. 

Jerry was a good man, a good man I haven’t seen in 5 years.

The snow pelted the windshield of my car, as if it was trying to push me back, trying to deter me from searching again. I drove towards his last known location, the last place anyone had heard him going to, That Cabin. The mere thought, mention, or even hint of That Cabin could make fire freeze over. I had a tradition of staying there the day he went missing, December 22nd, and I've done this for 4 years now every year. I don’t even know why I keep doing it, do I really think Jerry is just going to appear one day? That’s the thing about tradition, it’s hard to break for the superstitious. I don’t like the connotation of that word, superstitious, but can you blame me for being so? My friend, my best friend got up and disappeared out of the blue, no note, no mention, no clues? I soon pulled up and parked in front of That Cabin. The dark wooden walls contrasting with the pure white snow, its asymmetrical rotting silhouette sticks out like a sore thumb. I could swear the air got colder, the snow pounding at my windshield begging me to turn back, but I couldn’t. That Cabin, The Cabin, knew where Jerry went. If you could see it too, you'd think it was alive.

I put on my coat, mittens, and hat, and got out of my car. I popped open the truck and got my sleeping bag, cooler, and my Pump-Action Shotgun. I made sure to lock the doors as I made my way up the rotting oak steps. I opened the door with 3 quick shoulder bashes like I’d had done before. I walk inside and didn’t bother to take off my winter clothes, the unventilated home meant no heat for tonight. What lay before me was a sight all too familiar, Holiday decorations strung about and dashed across the floor. A faded banner with one end draped onto the floor reading “Merry Christmas Smith Family!” stays left untouched. I don’t dare move a single thing yet, The Cabin would not like it and I need a moment of peace. I lay my sleeping bag out on the ground, not intending to use it, and drop the cooler next to it. This Cabin harbors an eerie aura to it, an odd sense of nostalgia that has been frozen in time. I haven’t been to This Cabin before Jerry disappeared, never even heard Jerry mention it until he said he’d be throwing a family party. What gets me is none of the Smiths showed up, said there was something off about Jerry’s invitation, like he didn’t write it. I read it myself, the words fumbled together in a messy dance of failed deception, it was like reading a scam email, didn't read like a human wrote it. The family didn’t know about This Cabin either, they said Jerry bought it but I know Jerry was broke so unless the seller was desperate, I don’t think that tracks.

The light from the windows shine onto the oak floor as I open my cooler, I grab a microwave burrito and heat it up in the microwave in the kitchen. The Cabin’s main area has no walls dividing it, the kitchen, living room, and dining room are all visible at once. There are other rooms, 4 to be exact, locked away from me for a long time. Superstitions have stopped me from entering before, but I’m getting desperate to find Jerry. The microwave beeps and flashes the word ‘finished’, the word is barely visible now as the light seems close to giving out. I take off my mittens, take the burrito out to cool and go to grab a drink from the cooler. When I saw the cooler, I froze, I got the feeling that something was off. I could’ve sworn the cooler was facing toward the door, but now it looks as if someone moved it ever so slightly away from it. It was subtle, but it was enough to roll a chill down my spin and make my head rush. There was a reason I had once for staying at This Cabin, I used to think Jerry would just show up again so I stayed. But my reason has changed, I believe This Cabin is alive. I know how that sounds and I know it might be crazy, but at night I could swear I saw the walls pulse like veins. Maybe it was because I wasn’t sleeping, but I can’t shake the possibility that maybe I just saw something I wasn’t supposed to. I grab a drink anyway, an energy drink, and take a long sip without keeping my eyes off the cooler. My body felt warm in the freezing climate, so I decided to make use of the fireplace in the living room. I started a fire in the poorly constructed fireplace located in the living room. After I had warmed up enough, I put out the fire and went to eat my dinner.   

I ate my burrito, parts still cold as ice, and picked up my shotgun. I was going into the rooms unexplored whether The Cabin wanted me to or not. I blew the lock off the first door to the left, the shot echoed through The Cabin as the door swung back. I was greeted to an old bathroom, mold comfortably lay on the walls that painted it a repugnant dark green. It was a small bathroom with the toilet a hands length away from the bathtub, a dusty rose rug lay on the untouched floor. I didn’t feel like going closer to this disgusting room so I went to the next door. The shotgun continues to prove to be the best ‘one use skeleton key’ as the old wood door blew open. Before me stood a bedroom, what seemed to be a kids bedroom actually. A night light illuminated a corner near a bookshelf filled with old children's books. On the bookshelf was a picture of a boy, a boy that seemed familiar, might be Jerry. The bed had covers with stars on it, above it hung a model replica of the Milky Way Solar System. It seemed more lived in then any part of The Cabin, no mold or anything clear indication of its age. While interesting, I needed to check the other rooms before searching so I moved to the next door. The same old gunshot leading to the same old door swinging, except I could’ve sworn I heard a low groan as if a giant had stubbed its toe. Could’ve been The Cabin settling or it could be The Cabin reaction to pain, I hope its the ladder. What stood before me was odd, an empty room free of any dust, with one small window at the far end. This Cabin has two at the front and one on the left side, I was facing the right side of the house and I remember no windows. Outside of the window I swear I could faintly make out a figure, no, a group of people, it almost looked like a Christmas Party. It was like looking at the back end of a projection, everything was out of focus and blurry. I moved on, the curiosity of the last door’s secrets overpowered any about the party. I went to aim, but the door was already cracked open so I opened it. 

The last room is quite like the last, an empty room with one thing of interest. This time it was not a window but a table, a table with a card on it. I ignored my gut and walked over to the desk, I opened the card. It was an invitation to a Christmas Party, it read so closely to Jerry’s letter except the signature at the end. It was my name, It was an invite to my family, an invite supposed to be from me. “What are you drawing?” A voice scratched the back of my neck, I whipped my head around. A boy stood behind me, The boy from the photo in the bedroom, Jerry? “I’m not drawing anything” I retorted, fear creeping up my throat and shaking my words. “What are you drawing?” the boy repeated, his eyes ever blank and soulless like staring at a statue. “I told you I’m not drawing anything” I said, my words less shaken and more annoyed. “What are you drawing?” He repeated while pointing at the desk, I turned my gaze back to my desk to see a crude illustration of me with The Cabin in the background, worse than what I could draw. I freeze, the wind outside calming down as if it was shocked by this revelation too. “It’s-It’s me?” I crocked, a pencil in hand that was never there but felt so familiar. “Wow, that looks really good” I turn back and my heart drops. The door is gone, the boy is gone, in their place lay scattered bones atop a pool of dried blood. I stumble over to where the door lay before, looking down at the rotting skull that lay before me. I found Jerry, the thought was always in the back of my mind that someone had got Jerry, I just didn’t want it to be true. I fired all my shells at the ancient oak wall, trying to carve my own door out of here, my own escape. The walls never fell, I could hear the wind outside taunting me. The snow was laughing at me, it tried to keep me away and I didn’t listen. The invitation is gone, the drawing is gone, the table is gone, just an empty room. All that’s left is me and Jerry, thick as thieves.

I would like to say I was a good person, while closed off I helped the people close to me. I never really was the social type, I enjoyed my own company even since I was a kid. I met a lot of good people, made a lot of good friends but made some enemies too. Can you blame me? People have their bad days and hey, I had a lot of them. I kept in touch with my family, hung out with my co-workers and offered to pay whenever someone couldn’t cover a tab. I wouldn’t say I was a saint, I don’t think anyone is, but I did my best.

I would like to say I was a good person, a good person no one has seen in 5 years.