Isabella opened the door to her black Mercedes and cautiously scanned the surrounding woods as best she could in the darkness. There were no cars except hers and no sign of anyone having been there…except the fact that a dim lamp light glowed through the window of her fathers tiny cabin. She inhaled deeply, thinking to herself, “here goes…” as she shut the car door quietly behind her and approached the cabin from the dirt path she had driven down.
When she reached the door, she saw that it was not shut all the way, she examined the area surrounding the porch and saw an old shovel leaned against the cabin, so she grabbed it for protection—assuming there was even anyone in the cabin anymore.
She pushed the door; it creaked loudly as it slowly swung open. The cabin was much the way she had left it: there was still a broken kerosene lamp sitting by a burned spot on the floor, ash in the fireplace, and a blanket on the chair she had slept on, along with dust covering nearly everything in sight. She slowly stepped in and reared the shovel back, ready to swing, as she peeked behind the door; nothing. Isabella sighed with relief. Part of her wished that she would find nothing in the cabin, but there was another part of her that knew she needed to find Paige. Then she thought, “maybe it really was just a dream…” She saw Paige’s black heels sitting in front of the table where a burning candle sat across the room. Isabella’s heart sank. She needed to muster all the courage she had to call out for Paige, but she was much to frightened. She took a step forward and felt something crunch beneath her foot. She looked down and moved her foot back to see that she had stepped on a piece of something plastic. She leaned down and picked it up; it was part of a smashed cell phone—Paige’s smashed cell phone. “Someone must have smashed it when I kept calling.” She thought.
A bit panicked now, Isabella inhaled deeply to call out for her friend, but just before she was ready to call out for her friend, she heard a rustling sound in the other room. She stopped dead in her tracks, hoping that whoever was in the bedroom hadn’t heard her. “But what if it’s Paige?” she thought, “she may need my help.” Then another thought, “what if it’s not?” She swallowed hard then reared back with the shovel again, ready to strike.
She tiptoed as quietly as she could across the old wooden floor towards the nearly pitch black bedroom. “The rifle is over the door. There should be one bullet in it, so I just need to grab it before whoever is in there can.” She encouraged herself. She stepped into the room and looked down the wall into darkness. She stood still. The rustling stopped.
Whoever was in the room was standing as still as she was. She was so scared that her brain even stopped mid-thought. She heard a heavy boot take a step, presumably towards her, so she dropped the shovel, turned around and jumped for the rifle, wrapping her hand solidly around it. In one quick move, she swung the rifle around and took aim, unlocking the safety. She could feel the end of the rifle against someone’s chest.
“I am going to back slowly out of the room into the light, I advise you do the same.” She said to the darkness.
“Put the gun down, please.” A steady voice came back at her. The voice was familiar.
“I am an excellent marksman; I hunted with my father for years and I guarantee I won’t miss at this distance; I promise you will regret it if I pull this trigger.” Her voice was cold and hard, “into the light.” She commanded. With that, she faintly saw two hands rise up into the air, “Lead the way.” The deep voice said with a hint of defeat.
As Isabella backed slowly into the light, she could hear his heavy footsteps following suit. As he emerged from the darkness, she began to recognize features of his face. Once out in the light, she confirmed it: “Robert…” she said sullenly.
To Be Continued!
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