Horror logo

The Cabin

By Daisy Boone

By Daisy BoonePublished 6 years ago 8 min read
Like
Stock image from Pexels.com

The sand stings my eyes, making it hard for me to see the desert around me. It’s been a week since my plane crashed, making the supplies I collected from the crash site scarce. I’ve never had to ration before, and I have learned I am not very good at it. If I knew I would be in this situation I would have brought more supplies with me. I just wanted to have the chance to fly around the world now that I have my pilot’s license. Damn me for not planning ahead.

As I walk, the journey becomes uncomfortable. Every crevice of my body is filled with sand. I run my hand through my short brown hair, trying to shake out as much sand as I can.

“Why the hell is there so much sand everywhere?” Frustrated, I wipe the sides of my mouth, which are now cracked and crusty from the dry heat.

My facial hair is starting to grow back slowly, making me look even more rugged than before. The heat is becoming unbearable now. Oh, what I wouldn’t do for an ounce of rain. Back home in Washington it rains more than a normal person enjoys. Being out here, though, makes me wish for that Washington weather. Growing up, I would always hunker down in my bedroom when it rained while my brothers ran outside to splash in the mud. I’m the oldest boy of four, which is cool because I always get the first pick on things. Like when mom bought us gifts on a work trip, I’d get to go through them first. I have always thought I was mother’s favorite. That is probably why she allowed me to live with her while going through pilot’s school. That, and the fact that I didn’t have much money being fresh out of high school. Reminiscing almost makes me forget about the misery I am in.

As I look around me, I begin to see a hill.

“No, that doesn’t look right.” A wooden cabin is sitting on top of the sandy hill. “How the hell did they get wood in the desert? This has to be a joke.”

I keep walking until I am steps from the cabin. Peeking through the window, I see the layout of the place. It looks just like any old vacation home. There’s a couch, rug, even a fireplace. Wait a second, a FIREPLACE!? It’s like a million degrees outside! I walk closer to the door only for it to open on its own.

“Hello, is anyone there?” The question reminds me of one of those cliche horror movies.

I let myself into the cabin, and run straight for the fridge, which is filled with everything I love. That’s strange, how did this food get here? How did this cabin even get here? Nothing makes sense.

All of a sudden I hear footsteps from somewhere in the cabin. I quickly jump to hide behind the counter, knocking over a dish in my path.

“Who’s there?” The voice sounds slightly warped, but beautiful nonetheless. It seems to pull me from my place behind the counter and into the room she is in. It’s like her voice is controlling me.

“Who are you?” Her looks are impeccable. Her eyes are the brightest blue. Her skin so pale it could light a dark room. Her hair was long and voluminous, auburn in color.

“I-I-I’m Ben.” The words are forced out of my mouth as if by some kind of magic.

“Well, Ben, what brings you here?” She glowers at me, making my body tremble.

“Well, my plane crashed about a week ago and I have been looking for help.” The words flow out of my mouth much easier this time.

“Are you alone then?” She seems to have gained her composure, coming off a bit softer.

“Yes… umm what’s your name?” I feel more confident now.

“Clara.” She finally smiles. It’s beautiful, with a hint of trouble. “Why don’t I make us something to eat then”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll make it,” I offer. It’s as if something is controlling everything I say and do.

“If you wish.” She sits down at the counter awaiting her meal.

I look in the fridge to see what I can make. I decide on making us both vegetable soup. I am no longer questioning the strange cabin in the desert. Clara seems to make it sound normal. I gather all of the vegetables I need out of the fridge, and she tells me where the kitchenware is.

When everything I need is collected, I begin to cut the vegetables. On the third carrot, I accidentally miss with the knife and slice a deep cut into my finger.

“Damnit!” I wince at the pain. Blood drips from my finger onto the counter.

Clara quickly stands up and gives me a look I have never seen from another human being before. Her eyes start to change in color, almost matching her hair.

“Clara, do you have a bandaid I can have?” I grab a paper towel off of the counter and wrap it around my finger.

“No! Don’t cover it up. You’re getting rid of the smell.” She looks desperate.

“The smell of what?” I’m confused.

“Blood.” She begins to move closer to me, making me stumble backwards over my feet. “No, don’t run. I only want to taste it.” She eyes me, focusing on my bloody finger.

My mind fills with fear as I watch Clara get closer.

“Why don’t you just wait to taste the soup. That will be tastier.” I am still on the floor of the kitchen. I start to scoot my way backwards until I hit the counter behind me.

“I think you’ll be a better meal.” She is almost right in front of me.

I reach my hand up to feel the top of the counter, trying to find anything I can use to get me out of this situation. I feel the knife I was using to chop vegetables and grab it, hiding it at my side. When Clara reaches me she tugs the paper towel off of my finger then smells the air.

“It smells so good.” She looks at me with a hunger you only see in the movies, and pounces.

I pull the knife from my side and point it in front of me. As she lands on top of me the knife pierces her skin going right through her chest. I push her away and jump up on my feet running towards the door of the cabin. When I look behind me, I see her stand up and pull the knife from her chest. She looks to be in no pain whatsoever.

“What the-” She looks at me with a face of pure evil, eyes glowing red. I continue to run out of the cabin and towards the direction of the plane crash.

When I reach the bottom of the hill something grabs me by my feet knocking me on the ground. I am flipped over to reveal Clara holding me down with one hand. With the weight of her on me I am unable to move.

“Please stop,” I plead.

She grunts in disapproval and grabs my hand with the cut finger. Before she can do anything, I gather my strength and grab a fist full of sand with my other hand and throw it in her eyes. She doubles over in shock, giving me enough time to get back on my feet and think of a plan to get rid of her.

I run back to the cabin to search for a weapon I can use to kill her. I look back on the way to make sure she is still on the ground before slightly letting my guard down. When I enter the cabin, I make my way to the kitchen and rummage through the drawers in search of anything useful. Before I find anything, I hear the door swing open followed by angry running. As I turn around, Clara pounces, forcing me back on the ground. I look around me to see if there is anything that could help, and I see the knife I had stabbed her with earlier. I guess I could try that trick again. As I grab the knife with my good hand, she grabs my hand with the bloody finger and bites down hard. Her teeth are sharp like fangs, and I cry out in pain. With the knife in my other hand, I stick it into her heart. She lets go of my other hand and falls to the ground next to me with smile on her face.

“Your blood tastes good.” She grins, my blood running down the corners of her mouth.

“You’re disgusting.” I sputter out, still in pain from the bite.

“It won’t last long. Soon I will be dead and you will live the same fate as me.” She rolls on her side and coughs up what I assume to be my blood.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I look over at her to see her lifeless body. She is still beautiful, even in death. How could something so lovely be so evil?

It’s been four months since I arrived at this cabin. Clara has been burned, and I have been living here in her place. I now know what she meant when she said I would live the same fate as her. I have her overwhelming hunger, pale skin, and desperation for someone to “play” with. With everything that happened, the cabin is still intact; even in this dreadful heat. The heat doesn’t bother me anymore, as the coldness of my blood cools me down. I just sit in the cabin awaiting my meal. A cabin that was built in the desert for a purpose. A home for monsters like me, waiting for the next victim to walk through the door.

About the Author

Daisy Boone is an aspiring author who has just recently graduated high school. She plans to go to college, acquire a degree in English, and later work in publishing. She loves animals, art, music, photography, and much more. Daisy's favorite types of writing include poetry and fiction.

fiction
Like

About the Creator

Daisy Boone

I am an aspiring author who loves to read and write poetry and fiction. Thank you so much for reading my work!

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.