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Cabin Fervor
Published 3 years, 4 months ago
Description
Good evening, it's Spooky Boo Rhodes in Sandcastle, California. Tonight on the radio waves of the KSND radio station I have for you a scary story about small family in the woods haunted by voices outside their cabin. The story is unnerving to say the least! I can imagine it being the small cabin in the redwood forest of Sandcastle where many spirits, fae, and wraiths torment campers at night. I don't know why anyone even bothers to camp in the woods of Sandcastle! it is a frightening experience to say the least.
My collection of Sandcastle stories that I've written for the program is out at Amazon. I've reserved a few copies to be personally signed and sent out on Etsy, or if you'd
Cabin Fervor
by Tewahway
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window.
In the dead of night, it served as a beacon for the desperate father and daughter. Lost and terrified, a malevolent creature pursued them. The dancing flame tickled the candle’s wick, its light magnified by the shiny tin dish on which it stood.
The fragmented family burst through the old, yet sturdy door, and fell to their knees. As the terrified little girl began to beg her father for answers, he hushed her with two fingers over her lips. He knew that whatever pursued them was still out there; still hunting.
Just as the thought of dowsing the candle entered the father’s mind, it snuffed itself out, as though the cabin knew. Through the pale moonlight that pierced the window opposite them, they could see the meager furnishings of the cabin. There was a single chair, under a dusty painting, and a spongy, off-white cot.
After what felt like an eternity of sitting in silence and darkness, the man believed that whatever was pursuing them had given up. He stood, took his daughter’s hand, and led her to the cot. As she laid down, he sung a lullaby, to soothe her fears.
“Lay down, lay down, sweet Lilly.
Lay on the river’s bed.
When you sit up and rise again,
the sun will kiss your head…”
Haggard and tired, the man made his way over to the chair. A strange sense of serenity overcame him as he leaned back into its soft cushions. It was as though the chair was made for him. Lilly laid sleeplessly on the dingy cot, too scared to sleep. She went to her father for comfort but found that he had drifted off.
As the sunlight pierced the scraggly, bleak, and bare tree line, Lilly hurriedly ran to her father’s side.
“Daddy, daddy! Wake up! It’s light out. Can we go look for mommy? Can we go home?”
As he was roused to consciousness, the man looked to the patch of sunlight on the floor. Straining against the overwhelming exhaustion he felt, he peeled himself from the seat. He gazed out the window for many minutes, barely able to brace himself upright on the sill.
“Let me rest a short while longer,” he said, preparing himself to lie, “we’ll search for your mother when I regain my strength.”
Deep down he knew that his beautiful wife was gone. His daughter had not seen what became of her; hadn’t seen what he had. The mental image of her losing her footing, before whatever hunted them descended upon her, overcame him. And yet, as he sat back down in the plushy embrace of the chair, he felt strangely at peace with his loss.
Many hours passed as Lilly’s father slept deeply. Looking around the cabin, anxious and scared, the little girl’s thoughts were disrupted by hunger. How long had it been since she had eaten? Suddenly, a movement caught her eye. The painting over her sleeping father seemed to twitch. As she peered closer at it, she noticed that the painting was of a small house, remarkably similar looking to the cabin. As she stared into the picture, it began to distort. The upper windows began to open slightly, as though they were eyes prying themselves from slumber. The porch began to twist and curve into a grin.
“Daddy, daddy! Wake up, the painting’
My collection of Sandcastle stories that I've written for the program is out at Amazon. I've reserved a few copies to be personally signed and sent out on Etsy, or if you'd
Cabin Fervor
by Tewahway
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window.
In the dead of night, it served as a beacon for the desperate father and daughter. Lost and terrified, a malevolent creature pursued them. The dancing flame tickled the candle’s wick, its light magnified by the shiny tin dish on which it stood.
The fragmented family burst through the old, yet sturdy door, and fell to their knees. As the terrified little girl began to beg her father for answers, he hushed her with two fingers over her lips. He knew that whatever pursued them was still out there; still hunting.
Just as the thought of dowsing the candle entered the father’s mind, it snuffed itself out, as though the cabin knew. Through the pale moonlight that pierced the window opposite them, they could see the meager furnishings of the cabin. There was a single chair, under a dusty painting, and a spongy, off-white cot.
After what felt like an eternity of sitting in silence and darkness, the man believed that whatever was pursuing them had given up. He stood, took his daughter’s hand, and led her to the cot. As she laid down, he sung a lullaby, to soothe her fears.
“Lay down, lay down, sweet Lilly.
Lay on the river’s bed.
When you sit up and rise again,
the sun will kiss your head…”
Haggard and tired, the man made his way over to the chair. A strange sense of serenity overcame him as he leaned back into its soft cushions. It was as though the chair was made for him. Lilly laid sleeplessly on the dingy cot, too scared to sleep. She went to her father for comfort but found that he had drifted off.
As the sunlight pierced the scraggly, bleak, and bare tree line, Lilly hurriedly ran to her father’s side.
“Daddy, daddy! Wake up! It’s light out. Can we go look for mommy? Can we go home?”
As he was roused to consciousness, the man looked to the patch of sunlight on the floor. Straining against the overwhelming exhaustion he felt, he peeled himself from the seat. He gazed out the window for many minutes, barely able to brace himself upright on the sill.
“Let me rest a short while longer,” he said, preparing himself to lie, “we’ll search for your mother when I regain my strength.”
Deep down he knew that his beautiful wife was gone. His daughter had not seen what became of her; hadn’t seen what he had. The mental image of her losing her footing, before whatever hunted them descended upon her, overcame him. And yet, as he sat back down in the plushy embrace of the chair, he felt strangely at peace with his loss.
Many hours passed as Lilly’s father slept deeply. Looking around the cabin, anxious and scared, the little girl’s thoughts were disrupted by hunger. How long had it been since she had eaten? Suddenly, a movement caught her eye. The painting over her sleeping father seemed to twitch. As she peered closer at it, she noticed that the painting was of a small house, remarkably similar looking to the cabin. As she stared into the picture, it began to distort. The upper windows began to open slightly, as though they were eyes prying themselves from slumber. The porch began to twist and curve into a grin.
“Daddy, daddy! Wake up, the painting’