The Cottage

The sky was ablaze with a reddish glow, with streaks of yellowish clouds scattered randomly as the evening sun started its unhurried descent behind the imposing mountains. A flight of doves, spread out uniformly, glided homewards. Beneath them, a gentle breeze cruised through the arcane woods as the branches swayed in rhythm to their tunes. The zephyr carried along with it the resonating sound of the church bell striking miles away. A herd of cattle nibbled leisurely at the dry grass, the tiny bells tied to their necks clangoring with their movement. With the dim ball of fire gone completely behind the mountains, its rays still tried to illuminate the evening sky but gave up soon as darkness started to grow thick and fast; all-around. The woods started coming alive with the droning of insects and bees. The cattle showed the first signs of unease when a clap of thunder cracked in the dark sky above. The gentle breeze by now had picked up momentum and was taking the form of a gale, forcing the foliage lying on the earth to fly around.

Stephen Ron stood in front of the dilapidated wooden cottage at the edge of the woods. It stood weakly on the ground, with most parts of the wooden pillars eaten away by the carpenter ants, for depositing eggs. The wooden fence which had guarded the cottage fiercely once now leaned weekly, threatening to collapse any time. Weeds covered the ground like a roll of thick green carpet. The wind passed through the crevices of the planks in the walls, humming a soft tune. Ron stood without any movement fearing he would disturb the composure of the surroundings. He then stepped over the broken wooden fence, carefully lifting his legs, avoiding the wooden spikes. He dug into his bag pack and pulled out his digital SLR and positioned it in front of his eyes. Through the digital display he saw the stunning raw beauty of the cottage. The full moon slowly started crawling out of the clouds. He immediately realized the opportunity that was presenting itself before him; a perfect snapshot of an eerie looking cottage, with the full moon as the backdrop. He quickly selected the aperture settings and shutter speed. His right index finger slowly rested on the button and proceeded to depress it, when it stopped. For, through the display, Ron now saw a long haired girl staring at him through the broken glass window panes of the cottage. He watched as a chill continued to shot down his spine. She was watching him intensely through the long, dark tresses that fell in front of her eyes. With trembling hands, he depressed the button further. The moment the flash fell on the cottage; she let out a scream, which echoed across the woods. He turned back and ran when his legs slipped on the greenish wet carpet of weeds and his body tumbled forward. The SLR flew through the air and landed with a THUD on a piece of rock, shattering the lens.

He staggered up unsteadily and he felt terribly weak. He looked around; expecting to be haunted by the spirit, but the girl was nowhere to be seen. The woods had suddenly fallen silent. Not a blade of grass moved. Wiping the beads of sweat on his forehead, he lurched back in search of his camera. He found it lying on a rock, with deep veins of cracks running through the lens. He picked it up and examined it. He wasn’t sure of its ability to capture a snap. He instinctively turned around and focused the cottage. Through the cracked lens he saw it standing, shining in its full dilapidated grandeur with the glowing full moon behind. And over the fence, he saw his own body lying bent, with a sharp wooden spike running through the stomach and thrusting out through the back. Beneath the body, a deep thick stream of red flowed through the green carpet.

The woods lay dark and silent…