The Cabin In The Woods

The Cabin

Chapter 1:

I wasn't always alone—there used to be these two people that visited. Laura and Grimley, I loved when Laura visited, though it's been a few years since I had seen her, I know she still visits to check up on me. At least I hope she does. I don't think she was the type to just leave.

Grimley on the other hand I know still visits, though I wish he hadn't. He has this nasty habit of making things a lot more difficult around the house and field. He likes to leave doors open, and unscrew any jars that aren't fastened enough. He likes to pull strings on shirts undoing them even more. He likes to leave my tools amuck and disorganize my drawers. This I know is secret because I have only seen him three times. Each time he was vastly different looking, but there was this aura, this vibe to him that told you exactly who he was... a pest.

I snapped my fingers and a small flame popped out on my index finger, it was slightly warm but nothing too hot. I touched the small kindle in the flame and watched as it lit pretty quickly, and the cabin filled with the smell of burning wood. Which will continue into the walls of the cabin, one of the many reasons I like the fall. Besides the fresh vegetables, I get to eat from the next yield. Which just so happens to be tomorrow.

I sat down in the leather chair that sat in the front of the crackling of the fire. It was peaceful, I felt the muscles in my back relax, and my jaw unclenched letting my tongue fall from the roof of my mouth. I couldn't help it but I let out a sigh. A sigh indicative of my dirty boots left at the side of the door along with my jacket covered in mud.

I reached for the book I keep on the small wooden end table to my right. When I lifted the book, the table wobbled slightly. Which should not have happened. I know because I made the table. I put the book on the chair and get onto the ground.

Inspecting the small table, it seemed like one of the legs was slightly shorter than the other.

I got up and went into the kitchen which was just a corner in the cabin where a small oven and table were. On the table were a notepad and pen, with the words "Things to Do:" in big bold letters. It was just that, a list of things I had to do. If I didn't have that then I would probably go crazy or die.

The things that are life or death are asterisked and usually at the top of the list, and the others can be done when I have free time. Which isn't ever free, because the list is so long that by the time I get done with one task another pops up.

I went to the bottom of the list and put the words, "Fix the leg of the table" in the next empty space. Which was under the words, "Reorganize the bookshelf... again."

Above the table is a small window, the only one in the cabin, besides the blue mosaic window in the door, though that's not much of a window if your definition of a window is one that you're able to see through. Outside the kitchen window was this season's harvest, the last one for this year. Just past it was the barn, the bigger of the three buildings I had, in my small clearing. The other is the shed that is next to my cabin on the opposite side of the cabin. If I opened the window I would probably hear the wind that is pushing my small section of corn, maybe just under the whistle of the wind I could hear the clucking of chickens or the squeals of pigs.

I go back to my chair and begin to read the book.

"The Dangers of Going Alone."

One of the last gifts that were given to me by Laura. She visited more than Grimley but that still wasn't quite often. It was every few months, but she always brought gifts. For as long as I can remember, she always liked to give me books. Said that the books will help in the long run, and also will help pass the time. That's all you can do when you're isolated like this. Pass the time, and continue forward.

The book was the last one she had given me before I stopped seeing her during her visits. She was the most beautiful I had ever met. Though I hadn't met anyone, in the books she gave me, there were these long-winded descriptions of gorgeous women, and they always felt lackluster, but her. She was the envelopment of them, nothing felt half described with her. It was always so full.

I read for about an hour before I got tired and decided to lay on the cot in the corner. While laying down I felt the bed frame creak and with the creak two things occurred, another thing I needed to add to the list, and my eyes shutting, and feeling myself fall asleep.

* * *

To be completely honest, I hated doing this. It wasn't something I enjoyed, but the fruit of my work was a rewarding action. Which was the only reason I even looked forward to harvest day. I can't lie, the slicing of the crops was satisfying, especially after I sharpened the hand Scythe that I made out of wood, and melted down iron hinges that I got from one of the barnyard doors.

It was a hard decision when the last Scythe broke to only have one door that opened on the barn, but it had to be made.

As I continued the harvest, I could feel the sweat that slid down my forehead begin to cool from the breeze. Even with this weather, it was hard not to break a sweat, and even harder to keep the tool from slipping out of my hands. My knee ached a bit where a mangled scar sat atop, a friendly reminder of why I need to keep my hands tightly wrapped around the base of the Scythe and not swing too sporadically.

I was lucky enough that it didn't rain, or the harvest would have been even more miserable. The clouds seemed like they wanted to fall to the ground but just refused to, like they were trying to be courteous about what I had planned for today.

SQUEAL!!!!

My head shot to the source of the sound. I only caught the glimpse of a curled tail running into the forest, before I started to run after it with the scythe in hand.

Shit shit shit.

I entered the fence like trees that surrounded my clearing and began after the pig. For such a fat pig it was pretty quick on his feet.

The sounds of twigs snapping and the squeals of the pig were all that I could hear, besides of course my breath that was slowly getting louder and heavier with each second of running. Not good, I'm not going to be ready for the winter if this is what is left of my stamina. I had gotten sloppy, I wasn't running and exercising like I should have been. I wasn't keeping up with what I needed to, and now I'm paying for it.

I continued running, with the scythe in my hand. Making sure I didn't lose sight of the pig. The forest is filled with more things that can kill, than can't, and if I lose that pig, might as well say that's a month of meat gone to one of those monsters.

The pig was slowly gaining a lead. I fought to keep up with the pace, but it was in vain considering I couldn't even close the gap by an inch. I was slowly realizing just how much the pig was leading me away from the cabin. I stopped and the pig ran past a tree and disappeared.

I must have run pretty far into the forest, the house wasn't that far for some time now. I silently looked back at the opening that had all my things. I needed to get back before the scythe was going to be needed to be used. I began to walk back, then it began to rain.