I sat by the window during the flight to Alaska, reminiscing about my childhood friends, the ones I was traveling so far to see, trying to make the uneasy feeling that had developed in my heart since the letter from Carol go away.
That ‘don’t get on the plane’ feeling would not leave, the foreboding. Visions of slumber parties, dance contests won with Dane, ice cream cones, pizza and beer, the movies… there was nothing bad back there.
Getting off the plane and seeing my old friends brought tears of joy to my eyes. They had changed.
After we’d gotten my bags, I stopped at door. “Exactly how cold is it?”
“Minus thirty, but it’s dry, you won’t feel it much.”
They laughed, and I barely opened my eyes as we ran. It was not what I imagined minus anything to be like.
We drove for two hours on that dark day. When we arrived at the house, I wish there had been some kind of sign, blood in the snow and ice, a misplaced shoe, movement of a curtain in a window… anything that would have gone with the feeling that once I entered things would never be the same.
“Dane, I’ll show Marcie the house, you get the coffee going. It’s three stories, Dane and I have the third floor.”
It was a nice place, a wooden cabin nestled alone in the wilderness. I saw many things from the past walking through their rooms upstairs, things they’d both held onto all these years. Going to the second floor reminded me that their daughter Carol wasn’t around.
“Tell me about Carol, where is she and how’s she doing?”
“Oh, she’s stateside with mother. She is ready to start her own life and has had enough of the darkness here… I mean she would rather live where there are seasons.”
“I can’t say I blame her. I didn’t realize she’d graduated already. You must miss her.” And with that I started to open a door and Janet pulled it from my hand and locked it.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. This is Carol’s room, and we don’t go in there. I still like to give her privacy. Just because she’s not here doesn’t mean we can snoop. Not that you were snooping….”
It wasn’t her that scared me, it was what I saw. A crib, an old time one like a bassinet on wheels, with a hood and blood stains off the side. It was a filthy little room, with ugly pictures and a horrid smell. Now I had reason to be uncomfortable, reason for the foreboding. I wasn’t sure I wanted to admit what I’d glimpsed. Certainly now wasn’t the time to ask for an explanation, obviously she didn’t want me to have seen anything.
I was about to explain that I just thought we were still on the tour when Dane called saying the coffee was ready, and while his voice startled me I was happy for the reminder that he was in the house, because now I was worried about my hostess.
“Well, here’s your room, let’s go down and talk about old times.”
‘My room’ was nice, pink, and smelled of roses. It had a vanity bigger than any I’d ever seen with a red velvet chair. In one corner was a pink pull down desk. With the pink and yellow curtains, this was what I would have expected Carol’s room to look like. Pretty, carefree, and all girl.
Coffee downstairs was normal, with regular old friend chit chat. I was tired and they recommended a nap before dinner. “Tell me first though; we’ve been talking about the past, how about you two now. I don’t know anything about what you do here, why you moved.”
“There’s plenty of time for that, in fact it’d be a great subject for dinner conversation, you go now and sleep, I’ll wake you up in a few hours.”
Dane sounded so nice and comfortable, just like old times, but Janet was guarded, almost as if she didn’t want me there, but I ignored it, as we sometimes ignore rude remarks and went up and slept for the full two hours. The sound of the two talking and laughing woke me and I touched up my makeup and walked downstairs and into the kitchen.
They were in an embrace when I walked in, and I smiled. “Good to see the romance is still cookin’ and do I smell pizza and beer?”
As the night wore on, they decided to spill the beans. Janet almost literally knocked me off my chair with, “Come on Marcie, why not tell me how Jake is? Oh. You didn’t think I didn’t know did you? I’ve known for years, all seventeen of them.”
I looked from one to the other; I couldn’t believe they’d paid for me to come all that way for a confrontation. “He’s, he’s not around.”
Janet laughed, “Indeed. We brought him here. Oh, I know you thought he ran away, and I guess he did, but he was well taken care of. But now, you have to live here. We are dead Marcie. My daughter stayed as long as she could, and when she left last month, Jake went with her, because they are a very close brother and sister.”
I sat there numb, not believing, or understanding. Janet handed me a key. I knew it was to Carol’s room, but it didn’t register. All I could concentrate on was that she’d said I had to live there.
I ran outside. No booming thunder, no spookiness at all, just all northern lights and the house. No matter where I tried to run, the house was in front of me, and I ran for miles.
Now all I can do is let them feed off my life, and write to friends hoping that one day, someone will come visit me so that I may leave.
© 2009 Chris Bartholomew
Chris is a writer of dark fiction, with over 200 writing credits in various print and some online venues. Chris is owner/publisher of his own speculative fiction ezine, Static Movement, and head writer for the print Serial Killer Magazine.
August 13th, 2009 at 11:27 am
Superb story Chris - lovely take on the cabin in the woods theme, very well written and creepy as hell.
August 13th, 2009 at 3:57 pm
Nice and creepy. Good voice and flow.
–dj
August 13th, 2009 at 5:36 pm
Creepy and nasty, great stuff.