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The campfire crackled, casting flickering shadows across the faces of Sarah, Ben, and Emily. Nestled deep in the woods, their weekend getaway was turning colder than the fading embers. A sense of unease had settled over them ever since they'd stumbled upon the abandoned cabin, its windows like vacant eyes staring from the trees. Sarah shivered, not entirely from the cool night air.
"This place gives me the creeps," she whispered, her voice barely louder than the crackling fire. Ben, ever the jokester, nudged her.
"Relax, drama queen. It's just an old cabin."
But Emily, usually the adventurous one, was quiet. Her gaze kept darting nervously towards the woods. Just then, a twig snapped in the darkness beyond the firelight. All three teens froze, their hearts hammering in their chests. A low growl, more instinct than sound, echoed through the stillness.
"Maybe it's just a deer," Sarah offered, her voice trembling. No one dared to take their eyes off the rustling shadows. Then, a pair of glowing eyes emerged from the darkness, emerald and hungry. A large wolf, unlike any they'd ever seen, emerged, its fur matted and stained with something dark.
Panic surged through them. Ben, closest to the car keys, scrambled to his feet. But as he reached for them, a chilling voice, raspy and ancient, slithered through the trees.
"Leave them. They are mine now."
The wolf turned, its eyes locking with something unseen in the darkness behind it. Its growl turned to a whimper, cowering before the unseen force. Sarah, Ben, and Emily exchanged panicked glances. This wasn't a wolf. It was a puppet.
The voice called again, closer this time, a cold whisper that seemed to come from everywhere at once. "Join my collection. You'll never be alone again."
The cabin door creaked open a sliver, beckoning them with an unnatural darkness. The fire sputtered and died, plunging them into an inky blackness. The only light came from the wolf's eyes, reflecting a malevolent hunger.
With a choked scream, Sarah lunged for the car. Ben and Emily were right behind her, their breaths ragged gasps in the suffocating silence. They scrambled into the car, slamming the doors shut, the wolf's snapping jaws inches from the window.
As Sarah slammed it in reverse, the unseen figure reached out from the cabin, a skeletal hand with impossibly long, black nails scraping against the car's hood. The engine roared to life, tires spinning as they tore down the dirt road, the wolf's enraged howls echoing behind them. They didn't stop until they reached the first sign of civilization, a shaky huddle of teenagers forever marked by the chilling voice and the glowing eyes that watched them flee.
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I was sick, sick unto death, with that long agony, and when they at length unbound me, and I was permitted to sit, I felt that my senses were leaving me. The sentence, the dread sentence of death, was the last of distinct accentuation which reached my ears. After that, the sound of the inquisitorial voices seemed merged in one dreamy......
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