The Lodge

11

The atmosphere of Auchdarblair Lodge was thick with tension as Harriet cautiously made her way through the rooms. She knew he would still be lurking somewhere in the house, and she couldn't shake the feeling that he was watching her every move.

"Come out, you sick bastard!" Harriet called out, her voice echoing through the lodges halls. "I know you're here. Show yourself!" She held the knife in tightly in her grip.

The eerie silence engulfed her as she stood alone, the faint sound of her own frantic breaths filling the air. She could feel the weight of her confusion pressing down on her, suffocating her. The dimly lit hallway seemed to mock her, each shadowy corner whispering secrets she couldn't understand.

Was this all her fault? Had she been too careless in choosing this remote, isolated lodge for their girls weekend away? Her mind raced with thoughts of what could have gone wrong, her heart heavy with guilt and regret. But as she stood there, her eyes scanning the empty room, she couldn't shake off the feeling that something was amiss. She could almost taste the fear in the air, a metallic tang that made her stomach churn.

She was the last one left, the sole survivor of their ill-fated trip. And as the truth slowly dawned on her, she realised that the real horror was just beginning. For in this desolate place, she was not alone. And the presence lurking in the shadows was far more sinister than anything she could have imagined. With trembling hands and a racing heart, she knew that her fight for survival had only just begun. And in this nightmarish reality, she would have to use every ounce of strength and cunning to outwit the figure that sought to destroy her. She took a deep breath and prepared to face her worst fears, she couldn't help but wonder if she had made a grave mistake by booking this cursed place.

Harriet's heart was pounding in her chest as she approached the basement door, the only room she had yet to search for justice for her friends.

For the first time since arriving the door was slightly ajar, and a faint light was coming from within. Harriet knew that he wanted her to enter, but she also knew that this might be her only chance to escape. She could feel the weight of the decision pressing down on her, but she made her choice.

Taking a deep breath, Harriet pushed open the door and stepped into the basement. The wooden stairs creaked beneath her feet as she descended, the light growing brighter with each step. "Where the fuck are you?!" she cried out once again.

As she descended, a rancid stench of decomposition hit her. Jars and beakers filled with specimens and chemicals lined the shelves. In the middle, a stainless steel metal table glinted under a swinging light bulb in the brick-walled cellar. The bottom was permeated by a putrid and musty odour. Jars and containers of samples and substances scattered on shelves. A metal table, illuminated by the swaying light bulb, stood in the centre of the subterranean room enclosed by bricks.

The floorboards creaked beneath her feet, the sound echoing through the basement. She froze, her heart racing as she heard his heavy footsteps approaching behind. Each step seemed deliberate, like he was purposely trying to intimidate her.

A chill ran up her spine and she couldn't bring herself to turn around. She could feel his presence behind her, looming over her like a dark cloud. The air was thick with tension, suffocating her as she struggled to catch her breath. "Why have you done this?" she whimpered, her voice trembling with fear. She could feel tears stinging her eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. There was no response, just the sound of his heavy breathing. She knew she shouldn't have come here, shouldn't have ignored the warnings. She couldn't resist the pull, the temptation of the unknown. Now she was paying the price. As she stood there, paralyzed with fear.

She could feel the icy grip of death creeping closer, a chill spreading through her body as she struggled to keep her eyes fixed ahead. The darkness ahead seemed to swallow her whole, and she knew that she was about to meet her fate.

Even in the face of death, she refused to show fear. Her voice was surprisingly steady as she spoke, determined to face whatever was to come. "I'm not afraid of you," she said, her words ringing out into the darkness. She could feel the weight of her words, a fierce determination in her tone that matched the fire in her brown eyes. She could taste the fear in the air, a bitter taste that threatened to overwhelm her.

She pushed it aside, refusing to let it consume her. She was strong, and she would not let death scare her. As she stood there, facing her fate, she couldn't help but wonder about the complexity of life and death. The intricate web of emotions that came with it, the way it could turn even the bravest of souls into trembling messes. She was different. She was strong. In that moment, she was more than just a mere mortal. She was a fierce, unstoppable force, ready to face whatever came her way.

As she stood there, unafraid and unyielding, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in her character, in the depth of her being. For even in the face of death, she remained intriguing and complex, a testament to the strength of her character. And as she spoke those words, her voice rich with determination, she knew that she would be remembered as a fighter, one who faced her fate with courage and grace.

Harriet turned, her heart pounding in her chest, she let out a blood-curdling scream that pierced the eerie silence. Her hand tightly gripped the knife, ready to defend herself against the dark figure lurking in the shadows, that had taken the lives of her best friends. Before she could react, she was suddenly silenced, a sharp pain tearing through her body. She stumbled back, her mind racing as she realised she had been fatally wounded. As she fell to her knees, she dropped the knife and looked up at the dark silhouette of her attacker. The blood flowed freely from her wound, blinding her vision as it trickled down her face.

Through the bloody haze, she saw the hatchet buried in her skull, the glint of the blade shimmered. She tried to speak, to beg for mercy, but her words were lost in a choked gasp. She remained kneeling, her life slipping away. They were not just a monster, but a human with their own twisted motives. She took her last breath, she couldn't help but wonder what had driven them to this gruesome act. Her body fell forward, a final thud as she landed face-first on the cold, hard ground. The only sound now was the deep breaths of him. She was gone.