I remember saving up my allowance to get a copy at a local store. I also remember my parents not being too thrilled about my macabre interests. 🤣

So, I guess it's not too surprising that I grew up to be an adult who enjoys horror movies and now writes horror stories.

Growing up, what did you read or watch that sparked your interest in horror?

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Vampirella was one of my favorite comic book characters when I was young. I especially enjoyed the artwork of her created by Frank Frazetta.

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Start with Part 1 of this story if you haven’t read it yet.

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The following morning, he finished the remaining pages of the chapter that had been plaguing him for so long. Done! Finally done. The rest of the book would be easy compared to this painful push.

He closed the laptop and tucked it under his arm. Grabbing his empty coffee mug, he gave the room one last look as he stepped out and shut the door behind him. It was time to go home.

However, as he packed his suitcases and shoved dirty clothes into a black garbage bag, an itching, unfinished feeling crawled across his brain. That damn building. He had to try one last time before leaving. He’d give it a half hour… that’s all. So, he set the timer on his phone to force himself to give up when it was time to drive home.

The now-familiar white glint teased him as he slid through the dark trees. It was never directly in front of him but always to the side. Struck with a sudden strange impulse, he started walking backward, clumsily trying not to trip and fall. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught a glimpse of the structure to correct his course occasionally.

It was working!

More of it was revealed slowly but surely through the thick branches and dense brush. Closer and closer, he stepped back and back until he eventually stood before the door of a white shed.

Curious, he twisted an ornate brass handle, and the crooked old door creaked open slowly, revealing a pitch-black interior. He cautiously stepped inside and pulled his phone out to turn the light on. But it didn’t penetrate enough into the space to reach the farthest dark corners. Silently, he cursed himself for not bringing a real flashlight.

He could see the plain wooden floor and framed walls, devoid of paneling or drywall. There was no furniture, visible tools, boxes, or anything else he could see inside. What was this place? Why would his father leave an empty shed back in the woods? It made no sense.

However, as his eyes adjusted, he noticed it was bigger inside than expected, and the interior stretched back and away from the entrance. Some rough stairs appeared to lead up to a second floor that shouldn't have been there. How strange…

The air smelled musty and a bit fetid. It reminded him of the scent of the dead rat he’d found in the bedroom, but worse. Something larger had died in here a long time ago.

As he stepped farther inside to get a better look around, the door slammed shut behind him. He was now in total darkness, except for his phone’s tiny light. Panicking, he spun around and reached for the door. But his hands found… nothing. Stumbling forward, arms outstretched, he flailed wildly in the air and found only emptiness.

Nothing.

The door, the wall… all gone. Impossible. He stumbled forward, carefully reaching out in the dark. Finally, splintered boards met his grasp. But he still couldn’t find the entrance even after tracing the wall as far as he could.

There had to be another door or window or something. He moved slowly across the room using the small light and found a black hallway in one corner. A shiver ran down his spine, but he had no choice but to continue exploring and find another way out.

The hallway opened into another small dark room. He noticed an old stained mattress on the floor in one corner. Fuck… Someone had been sleeping in here.

Moving to the other side of the room to avoid it, he caught his toe on a pile of refuse scattered across the floor. It made a dry rattling and scraping sound that echoed off the walls. Damn it! He angled the light down and saw that it was small white bones mingled with dark fur.

Oh god, what the hell was living in here?

Panicking, he stumbled across the room to a doorway on the other side. It led to yet another dark hallway. But, as he walked farther, he noticed a dull gleam of light coming through a window in one wall.

Finally! A way out.

He rushed to the window and peered through it into… evening. Where was the sun? He glanced at his phone and saw it was around 1:30 P.M. Looking through the dusty glass again, his eyes adjusted to the scene. A blaze of strange stars swirled through the dark sky above. The forest had thinned to a few scattered trees, giving him a view of a dark mountain range far away in the distance.

His heart pounded while his mind struggled to comprehend what he saw. Where in the hell was he? There were no mountains within a hundred miles of the cabin. None of this should be here.

Before he could gather his thoughts, a face pressed against the glass from the outside—a face like nothing he’d ever seen before in his worst nightmares. Screaming, he stumbled back from the window and fell to the floor behind him. His phone slipped from his grasp and spun away into the darkness.

Now, something was coming down the hallway from the other side. Its form was briefly revealed in the spinning light, but he saw enough to ignite an adrenaline rush to flee.

He scrambled to his feet and ran through the darkness back toward the entrance. He had to find that door this time. He had to escape!

Something behind him clutched at his shirt, trying to pull him backward. He tore free and kept running, bloodying his hands on the walls as he clawed his way blindly to freedom.

A crushing impact against a wall painfully informed him that he was back in the first room. He slid his hands back and forth, up and down, scratching and scrabbling for a hint of the door’s frame or handle.

Suddenly, a primal crawling feeling in his brain told him he was no longer alone in the room. He knew something was watching him in the darkness, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Slow, shuffling steps reached his ears, and he heard a strange dragging and scraping sound on the old wooden floor. He flattened himself against the wall, trying to avoid the touch of whatever it was.

Boots? Hooves… or maybe claws? He couldn't tell. Then, the same odd snuffling and grunting sound started that he'd heard in the forest days ago. His stomach twisted in terror.

Whatever it was, it was now here. In here, in the darkness with him.

He sensed movement—air shifting and brushing against his face. It was much closer than before. He twisted around and pressed his face hard into the wall, but there was no escape.

What a shame, he thought. He'd never finish the book now. He wondered what would become of the chapters he’d already written and posted online…

A hot breath grazed the back of his neck. Something wrapped around him, tightly squeezing and pulling him into a crushing, intimate embrace.

A foul stench puffed into the air, and a soft, dusty voice whispered into his ear, "I'm… sorry."

The screaming began. It climbed to impossible octaves before fading into pleading wet whimpers. But, of course, no one was there to hear… or care.

Quiet.

So quiet.

As evening settled over the forest, no sound disturbed the dusky twilight. The white shack faded behind twisted trunks, black branches, and gently falling leaves, disappearing into the darkness again.

THE END

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When he woke up the following day, he tried to resist looking for the building again. But, eventually, he couldn’t help himself. He stood up from his desk and walked to the window with his favorite coffee mug in hand. 

Damn it. It wasn’t his imagination. There it was again, but it seemed even closer now! How could that be possible?

“No. I’m not gonna do this again.” He sighed and returned to the desk to start writing again. But, even as his fingers flew across the keyboard, he already knew how he would spend his lunch break. 

However, this time, he changed into more rugged clothing with a thicker jacket to protect him from the dense mass of sharp branches, twisted brambles, and thorny bushes. He also brought a stout walking stick and tucked a can of bear spray into his pocket. Feeling defenseless the day before had shaken his confidence. This time, he would be ready. 

He slipped between the trees and made his way in the direction where he’d seen the building this morning. It should be even closer than he had thought. But as he moved deeper and deeper into the forest, he became more concerned. He couldn’t find it, and he was starting to feel lost. 

So, he turned around to head back toward the cabin, promising himself this was the last time he would waste any more effort on this pointless quest. However, when he glanced back a final time, he caught a glimpse of white out of the corner of his eye. 

He turned to move in that direction, but now he could no longer see where it was. What in the hell? 

He looked away, and the white flash appeared again in the periphery of his vision. Twisting and turning, he couldn’t get a direct view of it. This was getting ridiculous. What an incredible waste of his time… 

Firmly turning away, he moved back through the forest and returned to the cabin to get back to work. 

He was so entranced with the flow of his story that the sudden ringing of his phone startled him. Reaching for it, he knocked over his coffee, spilling it across the desk and dripping over the edge onto the old oak floor below. 

"Dammit!"

He mopped up the spill with one hand and tersely answered, "Yeah, what do you need?"

"Well, hello to you, too, Alan! That's a nice way to answer."

"Sorry. I knocked over my coffee and made a huge mess." He sighed. "Okay, let's try again. Hello! How are you, sweetheart?"

“I’m good. The kids are keeping me busy, but we all miss you. When are you coming home? Aren’t you tired of all that solitude up there yet?”

“Soon. I’m working on wrapping up this latest chapter. I’m ready to be home, too. This place is starting to make me feel weird.”

“Weird? What do you mean?”

He hesitated for a second before answering. “It’s just weird to be here all alone. It’s so secluded and deathly quiet. I’m starting to hear and see things.” He laughed and added, “Don’t worry. I’m not going crazy. I just need to get away from this creepy old forest and back home to you all.”

“I don’t see how you can stand being there all alone. I could never do that! Finish up and come home, okay? I love you.”

“I will. I will. See you soon. I’ll probably wrap up and drive home Friday. Love you, too!”

Turning back to his laptop, he felt a surge of excitement. Going home would feel good. Damn good. He’d had enough of this place. He never understood why his father had moved out here.

The rest of the day was very productive. He wrote more that afternoon than he'd been able to complete any previous day. This was good. He might actually complete the chapter on time!

As usual, eating dinner later was a lonely experience. He reheated some vegetable soup on the stove and sat at the small wooden table. Looking up, he saw his reflection in the dark window across the kitchen. 

A sudden cold shudder quivered up and down his spine. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was out there in the darkness, looking into the warm cabin and watching him. The tiny lights on the deck didn't reach far enough to reveal much. Just a few inky shadows of tree trunks with branches clawing in random directions. 

Shaking it off, he decided to go to bed instead of trying to cram in a few more pages. Might as well sleep and wake early to start writing again when things seemed to flow more easily. He slid under the thick comforter, his eyes grew heavy, and he drifted off. 

Startling awake, he sat up in the darkness. What was it? What had awakened him? He strained his ears to listen, but his damn tinnitus made it hard to pick up quiet sounds—or trust what he heard. He knew the ever-present whistling wasn’t real, but he thought he’d picked up something else.

Nothing. 

Just a few creaks and pops of the old wooden beams settling. He started to lie back down when he heard it again. A slow brushing sound against the outside wall underneath the bedroom window. 

His stomach flip-flopped, and a cold sweat prickled his armpits, tickling and trickling down his sides. The sound stopped. He held his breath and waited. Again. There it was. Rubbing and pushing against the wood. It sounded large and heavy. 

What in the hell would do that? What kind of animal would scrape its body against a cabin at night? It made no sense. 

His heart pounded, and blood rushed into his ears—throbbing painfully. He waited and waited, but it seemed to have moved away. He was now regretting that he hadn't purchased a gun before driving up here. He'd talked himself out of it. It had seemed unnecessary, but now he wasn't so sure… 

It took a long, long time, but the fatigue finally pulled him back into a troubled sleep full of twitching nightmares. 

After breakfast the next morning, he went outside and around the corner of the cabin. He looked all around the bedroom window and examined the faded wooden siding. Nothing. No sign of the nocturnal visitor’s touch. 

He knelt and looked for tracks in the red dirt under the window. Again, nothing. Had he imagined it? Had it simply been a nightmare?

Living alone in this spooky old forest was making him jumpy. He was more than ready to get out of here. 

Later that evening, he decided to stay up and read in bed since he couldn't sleep. He retrieved the old walking stick from its dark corner in the dusty garage and propped it against the wall beside his bed. It was a pitiful excuse for home defense, but it was all he had. 

After about an hour, his head dipped and bobbled. Okay, maybe he could fall asleep now. His heavy eyes fluttered as he drifted into slumber. 

However, a distant thumping sound snapped him back awake. Was that outside? He waited and listened for it again. 

Thump!

Bump-thump. 

No, that wasn't outside. It was coming from inside the cabin. Someone—or something—was inside and moving around. 

Thud. 

Great… 

There was nothing like facing an intruder with a pitiful stick, wearing nothing but boxer shorts. He briefly considered calling 911, but what if it was nothing? What if it was just an animal? The locals loved to make fun of the city people who moved to the forest and called the sheriff about terrifying encounters with raccoons or coyotes. The agent had mentioned that rats were a problem up here and grew larger than their city cousins. 

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Fine. There was no way he could sleep without checking out the sound, whatever it was. He quietly slid out of bed and stepped gently onto the floor barefoot. Gripping the walking stick in one hand, he tip-toed to the bedroom door. The hinges squeaked as he pulled it open, and he mentally cursed the old cabin. 

The thumping stopped. Unsure of where the noise had been coming from, he began exploring the cabin room by room. He'd watched enough horror movies to know better than to leave an unchecked room behind him. 

He reached around the door frame into the bathroom, fumbling for the light switch. Flicking it on, he eased into the room and looked behind the door. Nothing. 

He reached out with the stick to slide back the dark blue shower curtain. The rings caught and resisted, but it finally slid to one side to reveal an empty tub. The window above the shower was closed and locked. 

As he turned back toward the hallway, he heard a gentle thump from farther away in the house. 

One room remained: the spare bedroom he had never used. He moved quietly, one foot in front of the other, and drew near the closed door. He could have sworn he'd left that door open. Why would he have shut it? 

His pulse quickened, and his throat tightened. An involuntary shudder danced across his skin as more adrenaline dumped into his amped-up nervous system. His hand slowly reached for the knob and gently turned it to the left. The door creaked open into the darkness beyond. 

A foul stench puffed out of the room. What in the hell was in there? Sliding his fingers up the paneling, he found the switch and flipped it while thrusting the walking stick into a defensive block. His eyes frantically scanned the empty room, looking for whatever could have made that sound—or that smell. 

Nothing. 

Reaching for the closet door, he flung it open with his heart pounding and stick thrusting inside. He was so scared and wound up that he was becoming angry. He shouted, "Come out, damn you!"

The old winter coats, jackets, and sweaters in the closet swayed back and forth, but nothing emerged. He violently shoved the point of the stick into the clothing over and over again. Sweeping under them, he looked for feet. 

Nothing. 

Oh god, what if it was behind him, under the bed? He twisted and jumped to the side, half expecting clawing arms to be reaching for his feet. Whipping his head left and right to make sure nothing had snuck up on him, he cautiously bent down to peer under the bed. 

There was something there. But it was something tiny and dark back in the corner. 

Grabbing the nearest bedpost, he pulled the bed clear of the wall and exposed the corner to the light. He could see it more clearly now. 

A rat. 

A dead rat on its side with tiny, stiff legs stretched out. Judging by the intense smell that almost made him gag, it had been dead for a few days. 

A wave of relief rushed over him, and the anxiety draining away left him feeling sick and shaky. A dead rat. Okay, no intruder. No monster. 

He decided to clean up the carcass in the morning, so he turned off the light and closed the bedroom door behind him. As he walked away down the hallway, he suddenly stopped. 

A dead animal couldn't have made that thumping sound. So, what had it been? And where did it go? 

He double-checked the locks on the front door and returned to the small bedroom. Closing the door behind him, he jerked open the closet and looked inside. Nothing but the few shirts he'd brought for the stay. A quick check under the bed only revealed dust bunnies. 

He pushed, grunted, and slid the heavy dresser to block the edge of the door. There. Nothing could get in now without a great deal of noisy effort, which would wake him up. 

The cabin was quiet. He lay in bed for several minutes, listening and listening. There were no more sounds. 

He tried to stay awake, but a wave of fatigue washed over him and pulled him into another night of fitful dreams.

➡️ Continue with the ending in Part3

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*This Story Is Inspired by True Events…

Quiet.

It was so damn quiet. He was still trying to get used to that.

Living in the city for 20 years had changed him in ways he hadn’t noticed until now. He didn’t realize how accustomed he had become to the constant buzz of city sounds. Traffic flowing down the street, sirens in the distance, people talking and shouting.

But, here? Here, there was no sound at all sometimes. Rarely a plane would fly over. Occasionally, the wind came up through the trees during a storm. And, sometimes, something would howl or shriek nearby. That strange nocturnal shrieking still made the hair on his neck stand up.

However, all in all, the solitude was a good thing for writing. He never would have finished his book in the city. There were too many distractions. But he could focus on his work here, and nothing interrupted his thoughts.

When his father passed away last year, the old man had little to leave him or his brother: some ancient woodworking tools, a beat-up truck, a small fishing boat, and this cabin. His brother wanted the boat and the truck to tow it, but he said the cabin was all his. He wanted nothing to do with it—for some reason.

Sipping his morning coffee, he gazed out of the upstairs window in the room he had turned into a makeshift office. It was almost time to sit down and work on the latest chapter that had been tormenting him. Peering into the dense forest near the cabin, a slight flash of white between the trees caught his eye.

What was that?

He’d never noticed it before. Apparently, it was only visible from this second-story window. He certainly hadn’t seen it from the ground level.

Hmm… That was strange. He didn’t remember another building on the property when he used to visit his father years ago, before their relationship became strained. His brother hadn’t mentioned it either.

Maybe it was an old shed. But why build it so far away in the depths of the forest?

Well, it was time to get to work. Later, he’d take a break for lunch and walk out there to see what it was. Reluctantly, he turned away from the window and sat at the desk. He had deliberately positioned his chair to face a blank wall so a view or his curiosity wouldn’t distract him.

Unfortunately, the words were flowing like molasses. Everything came out in a slow, drizzling drip and dropped onto the screen of the laptop. Oh well. Some days were like this. But he always kept at it until the timer went off. Otherwise, there was no way this next chapter would be ready for his editor the following week.

The frenetic buzzing startled him. He reached for his phone and shut off the timer. Standing up, he stretched and twisted his neck slowly to one side and the other. Popping cracks released the tension and brought some relief. He suddenly realized he was hungry, but his curiosity about the white structure burned more than his stomach’s need for a sandwich.

He walked downstairs and sat on the bench near his front door to put on his boots. Okay, it was time to explore a bit and find out what that building was. Surprised to discover the weather had turned chilly, he grabbed a jacket before slipping outside.

Crossing the small yard, he approached the forest’s edge and walked the tree line. Dark trunks pressed close together, and dense underbrush made it impossible to see more than a few yards into the woods. The white building wasn’t visible from here, but he suddenly didn’t feel like pushing past the thick branches woven tightly together. An uneasy sensation crawled down his spine.

As he started to turn away, he heard flies buzzing angrily nearby. Something just inside the tree line was attracting their attention. Stepping closer, he peered into the darkness, his heart lurching into his throat. Some furry creature was torn in half, with a thick clot of dark flies crawling and wriggling over the corpse. It looked like a small rabbit.

Coyotes, maybe? A bobcat? Could be. Both were common here.

Wrinkling his nose and shivering, he returned to the cabin. He had more writing to finish before the day ended—enough of this nonsense for now.

The following day, he saw the flash of white again. This time, he noted where it lined up with some gnarled oaks at the edge of the forest. He knew he couldn’t see the building from ground level, but it had to be east of the cabin. From here, it looked to be at least 100 yards from the tree line.

Keeping the image in mind, he quickly went downstairs and stepped outside to walk to the edge of the weed-filled yard underneath the old oak trees. Taking a breath to calm his nerves, he eased between their twisted branches and into the pine trees beyond.

Damn! He hadn’t realized how dense this old forest was. He remembered his father mentioning that he had allowed no one to log it, and he’d only maintained a small perimeter around the cabin for fire safety. Brambles tugged at his clothing, and thorns stabbed through his jeans. He had to scramble over fallen trees and around patches of what appeared to be poison oak. Great…

Where in the hell was it?

This had to be the right direction, so it should have been visible by now. Huffing and puffing, he pushed deeper into the forest as the tall trees closed overhead. He hadn’t realized how massive they were before. It was darker than he expected that it should have been at high noon—the canopy of branches twisted and twined together, blocking out much of the sunlight.

He stopped for a minute and slowly turned around to get his bearings. He had thought the house was quiet, but it was even quieter here in the woods. The trees muffled all sounds, and he could hear none of the local birds. He thought that seemed a bit strange, but he wasn’t exactly a country person anymore.

Something rustled in the nearby underbrush, and he froze. He knew black bears were still in this area, but it hadn’t sounded that big. But it could be a mountain lion moving more carefully. They still prowled this forest, too.

No… It shouldn’t be. He had researched them while packing up to move here, and they supposedly hunted at dusk, which was hours away. Still…

Suddenly, something much larger crashed through the nearby brush. Branches snapped, and dry leaves crunched.

Okay, that was enough. He turned and hustled back in the direction where he’d entered the forest.

Damn it. There was no clear path, but it had to be back this way. It was hard to tell with this strange light filtering in from above.

He scrambled more quickly, rushing through the undergrowth and no longer picking his way through the branches and thorns. Panicked, he ignored the scratches and the tearing of clutching limbs at his arms and legs. He had to get out and back to the safety of the cabin. The fear was no longer rational.

The crashing sound followed him, closer now. Whatever it was, it began making a strange snuffling and grunting sound. He tripped and fell to his hands and knees. His bloodied hands reached for the fallen tree trunk in front of him, pulling himself up and over. Stumbling and falling forward, he burst through the forest's edge, back onto the cleared land, and ran for the front deck.

Reaching the front door and throwing it open, he turned back. He wanted to see what was chasing him.

Nothing.

There was nothing there, and the forest was silent again. Strangely quiet. No birds singing. No squirrels chattering. The only sound was his rasping breath as he desperately fought to control his pounding heart. What in the hell had it been?

Back inside, he went to the bathroom and cleaned the scratches and cuts on his hands and arms. The water stung and burned. Now he felt stupid. It had probably been a deer. They were also common in these parts. He had already seen several on the security cameras surrounding the cabin.

This was ridiculous. His brother would know something about it. He’d spent more time here. He returned to the living room and sat in the leather chair near the fireplace. Pulling out his phone, he texted him.

“Hey, do you know anything about a white building on Dad’s property? Noticed it a few days ago, hidden back in the trees. But I couldn’t find it when I searched.”

His brother was a real estate agent, and one thing about real estate agents was that they were always on their phones. “Building? No, I don’t remember anything about that. You sure it wasn’t something else you saw?”

Now he really felt like a fool.

“Sorry, maybe I was imagining things. Sorry to bother you.”

“No problem. Let me know if you find anything, but there shouldn’t be another building on that property if I remember correctly. But maybe Dad built it last year?”

He sighed and texted a final message.

“Yeah, maybe. I’ll let you know if I find something.”

He slid his phone back into his pocket. He suddenly realized he was starving—time for that sandwich and then back to work.

⬇️ Continue with part 2 below…

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I love the dark art of Beksiński. I’m going to start sharing interesting daily dark tidbits

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Start with Part 1 first…

The doorbell chimed, startling Sarah awake. She couldn’t believe she had drifted off on the couch. But the trauma of the evening’s events had drained her. She was so weary.

However, her anger flared as she remembered everything that had happened to Bella. Heart pounding with rage and adrenaline, she raced to the door and threw it open. Startled, Susie moved backward, but Sarah seized her arm and dragged her inside.

The woman pulled back and tried to resist, but Sarah’s rage fueled her unnatural strength. She shoved the woman toward the couch.

“Under the blanket. Look! Look what you fucking did to her!”

“W-what? I didn’t do…”

Shrieking, Sarah interrupted her. “Just look, damn you!”

Susie gingerly pulled back the blanket to reveal Bella’s limp body. Her shoulders slumped, and she let out a big sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank god. It’s just your dog.”

Sarah dashed across the room and held a knife in front of Susie’s frightened face. “Just my dog? You miserable bitch! That… that thing! It killed her!”

The woman’s face grew cold. “Be thankful it wasn’t worse. Trust me.”

“Trust you?! We are way past that. What did you do to me? What did SHE do to me? What is that thing???”

Closing her eyes, Susie sank onto the couch. “I don’t know what it is. I really don’t. But I had no choice! This was the only way I could get free. I am so sorry, but it was the only way.”

Sarah’s heart kicked in her chest, and a chill rippled across her skin. “Get free? What the fuck do you mean by that?”

Susie looked down at her left arm, then back up at Sarah with a haunted expression. “I carried it, too. For a long time. And I lost a lot more than… some pet. I had to do something. I’m sorry it was you. I really am. But it couldn’t be a stranger. And I didn’t really have many friends here.”

Sarah stared at her in shock. “You did this to me on purpose?”

Her coworker looked down at the floor and silently nodded her head.

“Take it back! Take it back or—I swear to god—I’ll kill you.”

Susie calmly met her gaze. “It doesn’t work that way. I can’t just take it back. Believe me, I tried that when it happened to me. There’s only one way to be rid of it. You have to pass it on. The witch will help.”

“Witch? Bullshit. She’s just some crazy bitch that put this thing inside me. She can take it back out! I’ll fucking make her do it! Drive me back out there tonight.”

Susie shook her head and laughed darkly. “Witch. Demon. I don’t know what she is. But you can’t force her to do a damn thing. Don’t you think I tried that, too? I drove there every damn day for a week, but could never find her place again. Never!”

“What about going to the hospital? Why can’t a surgeon get it out?”

“It’s not like that. I tried, but it isn’t really there. It doesn’t show up on any X-ray or exam. I finally stopped after a doctor tried to have me committed.”

Sarah’s face crumpled, and tears streamed down her face. “Then what? What can I do? You took me to her. How in the hell did you find your way back?”

Susie closed her eyes and answered in a barely audible whisper, “You need to bring a new host. But it can’t be a stranger. It has to be someone you know. Someone you care about. Take them back out to that part of the forest, and you’ll be drawn to her cottage. You’ll find it, just like I did. It’s the only way. I’m sorry—so very sorry. But it’s the only option you have.”

She got up from the couch and moved toward the door. Sarah stepped in front of her, raising the knife to press the tip against her chest.

“Go ahead. Kill me. I really don’t care anymore. Trust me when I say there are worse things than losing your dog.”

Sarah hesitated, then pulled the knife away and stepped back. “Get the fuck out of my house. I never want to see you again.”

She turned away and walked to the kitchen, hearing the front door click shut behind her. The sun was rising, and glowing beams slid between the window blinds as she poured another glass of wine.

When the liquid courage kicked in, it was finally time. Shaking, she pulled the phone out of her pocket and scrolled through the favorites in her contacts.

After a few rings, a sleepy voice answered. "Hey, you. Is something wrong? You rarely call this early."

"No, nothing wrong. I just wanted to hear your voice this morning. It’s been awhile! And… I was wondering… Would you be interested in joining me for a little day trip this Saturday? I found a great new place with this wild tattoo artist. The ink… well… it never fades. Trust me, it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before…"

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Sarah was startled awake as the car bounced over the numerous potholes in the rutted dirt road. The sun was sinking lower through the forest as an early evening mist crept in and around them. 

“What the fuck?! Where are we? What happened?”

Susie glanced at her. “You passed out, you scaredy cat. She had to help me get you into the car so we could go home.”

Sarah sat up and looked around, feeling groggy and strange. Her arm tingled and burned a little. Pushing up the sleeve of her shirt, she saw an intricate scaled design winding around her wrist and forearm. It crept higher and disappeared above her elbow. Iridescent colors sparkled in the last light of the setting sun through the windshield. 

“Fuck. I see she took some liberties with the design.”

Susie looked at her arm and quickly returned to watching the road ahead. “What do you mean? I think it looks amazing.”

“It does. But it’s not just a touch-up of my old ink. She created something completely new.”

“Are you pissed? I can go back if you want.” 

Sarah sighed and leaned back in the seat. “No. It’s ok. It is beautiful. I’ve never had colors like this on me. I’m tired. I just want to go home.”

Susie nodded and continued driving back to the city. It had been a long day for both of them.

Finally, she reached Sarah’s place and pulled next to the curb to drop her off. “Hey, I know that was pretty weird. I hope you’re not mad at me.”

“No, I’m not. You did warn me that she was a strange one. The ink is amazing, so I’m not gonna complain. See you tomorrow?”

“Yep, see you at work!”

Susie pulled away and disappeared down the dark street. Sarah watched the taillights recede into the distance and turned to go inside. She just wanted a glass of wine and a cozy chapter from her latest book. Going to bed early sounded really nice right now.

She unlocked the door and slipped inside. A furry rocket dashed across the living room and slammed into her. Golden fur danced in a twisting circle and whimpered with joy. 

“Hey Bella, my good baby girl! I’m sorry I was gone so long. You hungry?”

Bella pranced around before racing for the kitchen. Sarah followed to make her favorite nighttime kibble and pour a glass of wine. She wasn’t really feeling hungry. That strange tea had made her stomach a bit sour. 

Wine in hand, she went upstairs to get undressed and slide under the blankets. She reached for her Kindle as Bella danced into the room and circled her doggy cushion next to the bed. Adoring eyes gazed at her favorite human, and her tail thumped quietly to signal her bliss of reconnection. 

With heavy eyes, Sarah started reading. A sip of wine, another page, and long blinks growing longer. Within a few minutes, she set her glass on the nightstand and put the Kindle down. Turning off the bedside lamp, she pulled the sheets up under her chin and drifted off. 

A whimpering sound awakened her. Her fuzzy mind couldn’t distinguish between dream and reality. Was she still asleep? Where was that sound coming from?

She slid up to sit back against the headboard and reached for her glasses on the nightstand. Fumbling in the darkness, she finally found the switch on the lamp and peered around the room. The soft whimpering continued from the floor next to the bed. 

“Bella? What’s wrong honey?”

The dog’s tail twitched weakly, and her golden sides heaved. She seemed sick. As Sarah reached for her, she noticed a coiling tendril snaking across the carpet and disappearing as it burrowed into the Bella’s thick fur. 

What the fuck?! How did a snake get in here???

Panicking and feeling disgusted, she grabbed the scaly body and pulled hard. But it was lodged firmly and only made Bella yelp in pain. Sarah threw back the blankets and rolled out of bed. 

As she unsteadily stood on her feet, she felt a painful tearing and tugging from her forearm. She stumbled backward, and the pain increased as poor Bella was dragged across the floor by the writhing, pulsing coil. 

With gut-wrenching horror, Sarah finally realized the same coil was embedded deep in her forearm. Trickles of blood streamed to the carpet below. Bella was silent now. Her body was no longer quivering. The only motion was the disgustingly sensual pulsing and dancing motion from the umbilical connection between them. It was now swollen and flushed red. With a nauseating wet pop, the tendril slid out of the dog’s body and retracted across the carpet, leaving a slimy bloody trail. 

Sarah screamed and fell backward. Kicking with her feet, she pushed away from the nasty thing, but it continued to wiggle and slid back into her forearm with an excruciating ripple under her bleeding flesh. Within seconds, the iridescent flicking tip had retracted deep into a hole in her arm and the wound puckered shut, sealing tight with glistening ink-covered scar tissue. 

She slapped at her arm, clawing and tearing. But all trace of the creature was gone. Shaking with shock, Sarah twisted her arm back and forth and flapped her fingers. The pain was gone, and all that remained was the wonderfully rich inks dancing before her weeping eyes. 

“What the fuck?! What the fuck? What the fuck!?!” She moaned the words over and over again.

She crawled across the floor to Bella and cradled the body in her arms. The dog’s head hung limply, and her drained remains felt oddly light. 

Sobbing and whimpering, she gently laid Bella back on her soft cushion and snatched the phone from the nightstand. No answer. She called again and again and again. 

Finally, a groggy voice answered. “Sarah? Do you know what time it is? For fuck’s sake…”

“You fucking bitch!!! What did she do to me?!?”

The voice turned cold. “What are you talking about? You sound crazy. Are you drunk?”

“Crazy? Oh, you’re gonna fucking see crazy if you don’t come over here right now! Stop playing games with me. I’ll call the fucking police!”

“Calm down. Ok, ok… Give me a minute. Don’t do anything stupid. We can handle this together. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The line went dead. Sarah stared at her phone for a few seconds before tossing it on the bed. Pushing herself up, she pulled on some clothing and went downstairs. 

Her hands shaking, she poured more wine and downed it in one gulp. She tilted the bottle to drain the last of the ruby liquid into her glass. Glancing at the counter, she made a selection and tested the point against her fingertip.

It would do.

She took a deep breath and placed her forearm on the counter. Carefully, she pressed the knife into the spot where the tendril had sucked back under her skin. Nothing happened.

She gritted her teeth and pushed harder until the sharp point pierced her skin. A drop of blood emerged and trickled down her forearm. Hmmm…

Suddenly, a whistling shriek ripped through the air, and a glistening tendril erupted from her forearm. It coiled around the blade and flung the knife across the room. Then, with a sickening twisting sensation, it retracted back into her arm, and the twitching tip slipped back under her skin. The scar sealed over again, looking like the puckered mouth of a diseased starfish.

Sarah rushed to the kitchen sink and vomited. Wine flooded out of her stomach and into the drain. Grabbing a nearby dishtowel, she wiped her mouth and turned back to the counter to retrieve her glass.

She slid another knife from the block, turned away, and walked into the living room to wait near the front door. Susie should be here any minute now.

The gleaming steel glinted in her hand as she repeatedly stabbed it into the arm of the leather chair. Raising the glass to her lips, she prepared herself for what must be done…

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Sarah woke to the sound of her phone’s annoying alarm. Another day, another dollar. She was starting to regret moving to Portland for a job that didn’t seem to be working out. Oh well, maybe she could give it a few more months and see if things improved. 

Looking into the bathroom mirror, she stuck her tongue out at her reflection. As she ran her hands through her tangled curls, she noticed her latest tattoo was already fading. 

Fuck. What was up with ink these days? It didn’t seem to last as long as her old ones had. 

Sighing, she made a mental note to call and schedule a touch-up appointment on her drive to work. She trudged downstairs to make coffee and grab some breakfast before heading into the office. 

“Hey, sleepyhead!” A cheerful voice rang out from a nearby desk. 

“Good fucking morning to you, too, Susie,” Sarah grumbled as she dropped into her chair. Susie was a morning person, which was exceedingly annoying. But she was the best thing about this job. Having a good friend helped the days pass more quickly. 

“Who pissed in your coffee today?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing big. I’m just annoyed. I’m tired of spending money on a tattoo that fucking fades before you know it. I need a touch-up, but my guy is booked for weeks.” 

Susie turned away and returned to her computer keyboard. “Oh, yeah, that sucks. I get it.”

“Hey, who is your artist? Your shit always looks so fresh!”

“Huh?” Susie seemed distracted. 

“I said, who is your artist?”

“Ummm, she’s really weird. You wouldn’t like her style.” 

“I’m really weird, so now I’m even more interested. Come here, let me take a closer look.”

Reluctantly, Susie wheeled her chair closer to Sarah’s desk and extended her arm. An intricate multicolored tattoo wound from her wrist to her elbow, disappearing under the edge of her shirt sleeve. The design kind of made Sarah’s eyes hurt. It was complex, and the colors seemed to shimmer and shift under the lights. 

“Okay, that’s fucking cool. I’ve never seen colors like that. Now you have to share her name!”

Susie narrowed her eyes and stared at her briefly before deciding. “Okay, just remember you asked. It’s not my fault if you’re unhappy with how it turns out.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m a big girl. I won’t blame you. Give!”

“There’s no give. She’s not listed, and she’s very hard to find. I’ll have to take you to her place. I need to see her anyway. Saturday?”

“Fine, weirdo. Have it your way. Yeah, let’s go on Saturday. Pick me up and bring me a coffee.”

Susie rolled her eyes before wheeling back to her computer. Sarah smiled and returned to her screen. Fresh ink always made her happy; she’d be thrilled if her colors looked half as bright as what she had just seen.

The following day, they were on the road bright and early with steaming cups of coffee in hand. Susie drove out of the city into the northeastern wilderness of foggy forests. A small county road twisted along the banks of a rushing river. 

Why in the hell would a tattoo artist live this far outside of any city or town? It would be hard to make a living out here. But, if Susie was willing to drive this far, she must be good. And maybe other people made the same trek. 

Eventually, they turned down an almost invisible dirt road that snaked into the dark forest. After a few twists and turns, Susie pulled to a stop near a small mossy cottage tucked underneath the dripping branches. The windows softly glowed in the unnatural darkness of the dense growth. This was way cooler and spookier than Sarah could have hoped. She was glad she had pressed Susie to share. 

She turned to Sarah. “Wait here for a minute. I have to talk to her first. She doesn’t like strangers, okay?”

Sarah frowned. “Geesh. How much of a hermit is she? Fine. Go ahead.”

Susie left the car and walked to the cottage’s front porch. Knocking on the door, she glanced back at Sarah to ensure she stayed in the car. The door cracked open, and Susie leaned forward to talk with the occupant. Then, she slid inside, and the door closed. 

Minutes went by, and Sarah was becoming increasingly annoyed. Why was this taking so long? Finally, the door opened, and Susie emerged to wave her over. Sarah got out and walked to the cottage, nervously peering around the dark forest. This place was damn creepy. The tattoo had better be worth it… 

Entering the cottage, she was relieved to see it was cozier inside. A warm fire crackled in a small fireplace, and lanterns and candles made the room glow. A tiny figure huddled in one corner of the room in an upholstered chair. The table before her held an array of the usual supplies plus a few miniature jars, pots, and cups of who-knows-what. Strangely, Susie was seated next to the hooded woman, looking nervous. One bird-like claw was wrapped around her tattooed forearm. 

Okay then… No wonder she had been reluctant to share her artist. This was beyond strange. 

“Sit, sit.” The old woman croaked in a quiet, dark voice. 

Sarah was starting to doubt her decision, but she wanted the work done, and they had driven for hours to be there. Sighing, she moved across the room and sat down, placing her arm on the table. 

“Here? This?” The crone traced Sarah’s forearm with a tiny, cold claw. 

Sarah shivered. “Yes, this one has already faded. Can you freshen it up?”

“Yes, yes. Always fresh. My work never fades. It will never leave you.”

Okay, that was creepy AF. “Great. Let’s do it then.”

The hooded face turned to Susie. “This you want? This one? You sure?”

Susie hesitated, then nodded. She looked pale and nervous. 

What the fuck did it have to do with Susie? A look of irritation washed across Sarah’s face, and she made a huffing sound. 

The hood whipped around in her direction. “You sure? You want this, too? Say it. Tell me you want this.”

Sarah squinted at Susie in confusion, then faced the old lady. “Yes, I want this. That’s why I’m here.”

“Good. It is done. Here, drink. Drink it all.”

She handed Sarah one of the tiny cups from the table. She cautiously took it and sniffed. It had a strange herbal scent. Not unpleasant, but not like anything she’d smelled before. 

“What is it?”

The crone laughed. “Tea. Just tea to calm your nerves.”

Sarah gave Susie a questioning look, but she nodded to say it was okay. Fine… She sipped the tea. Not bad. It was kind of tingling and warm as it slid down her throat. A pleasant flush washed over her body. Calming, indeed. She finished the drink and enjoyed the euphoric feeling. 

“Now we begin…”