The Cabin
So I felt like writing something and this just kind of happened, it's basically a short horror story which I might do more of! Comment, vote and follow if you enjoyed! :)
The snow swirled around him in a flurry of white flakes. His arm was raised to his face trying to block the cold air and icy particles from getting in his eyes. The snow was roughly pelting at his face like cold stings from an army of icy wasps. His other hand was clutching the strap of his bag, holding it tightly to his side as the wind threatened to blow it back with sheer force. He walked quickly, his boots kicking through the snow that was all around him. He was dressed in his boots, jeans and an oversized jacket that covered the thin t-shirt he was wearing. The beige jacket did little to keep the cold from his bones, but it at least stopped the rough wind from abusing his pale skin.
He was so close now.
The trees were thick here, stark branches were pale and gnarled and blew fiercely in the wind. They seemed to be performing a horrific dance as they jerked and flew in all directions. The house was in sight now.
It was a plain old thing, made of grey stone that contrasted with the white that seemed to be everywhere. It was average sized, only two floors and it's windows were snow covered and black from the darkness inside.
It was surrounded by nothing but the snow and the trees, almost as if someone had built it there for nor rhyme or reason. It simply just existed. A safe haven for lost travellers and forgotten wanderers alike. He approached the house from the side, seeing through one of the upstairs windows that no lights were on and no one seemed to be home.
He rounded the corner, ready to make his way over to the front door, when he saw it.
A set of footprints, unmistakeable in the heavy snow that littered the ground. They lead from woods over to the front door of the house, where they seemed to stop, as if the maker of the prints had stopped and smartly went inside. He stared at them for a moment. Was somebody home? Was it the owner?
A strong gust of wind suddenly whipped at his jacket and made him grit his teeth. The cold was dreadful and he could barely feel his hands.
He had been looking forward to driving out to the nearby woods and going for a stroll as he took some pictures, the wildlife was beautiful this time of year...or at least it should have been. Two hours into his walk after taking a series of photographs of some squirrels, deer and other woodland creatures, the snow had started. It was light at first, almost curious, as if it was floating from the sky to test the earth in order to land. He had felt a strong sense of nostalgia when he saw it, the light, cold flakes reminded him of snowball fights with his brothers and of hot chocolate by the fire. It was April and so the snow, while being rare wasn't unwelcome, however it had took the young photographer by surprise. He remembered the times of his childhood when the first snow was the most exciting thing to him, it meant no school and fun and most importantly the arrival of Christmas.
But that was then. The snow had changed suddenly from cold, light kisses to blustery stings that made him feel unwelcome in his happiness. He spent close to two hours pacing through the woods back to his car, only to find more woods and more snow and more cold. He could have sworn he had left the car around here next to a road, but there was no road, just trees and more forest.
He remembered the feeling of panic and fear taking over his mind. He had very little food and water in his bag, what would he do? It was then he remembered the house he had passed, it seemed to enter his thoughts with a warm feeling of salvation. It was about an hour from where he parked, maybe it was close? The woods couldn't be that big.
