The Thing in the Cabin is a scary story about a creature in the woods that has the power to control men’s minds.
The old man was weak and sick. His body wouldn’t last much longer.
I made the old man get up and walk to the window. He looked out and saw them standing there in the snow. There were four hunters gathered outside the cabin. I saw them too, through his eyes.
The hunters carried long guns and they were shivering with the cold. One of them walked up and banged on the door.
“Hello in there!” he shouted. “Hello! We’re lost and we need a place to stay for the night!”
I pulled the old man away from the window and made him bar the door.
“We have a little money we can give you!” the hunter shouted. “We just need a warm place to spend the night and a little food if you can spare it. We’re freezing to death out here!”
I made the old man throw another log on the fire.
“You don’t need to be scared of us,” the hunter said. “We’ll leave our guns outside. We don’t mean you any harm!”
I made the old man pick up his rifle and aim it through a slit in the cabin door. Then, I giggled as I made him pull the trigger. There was a loud bang and one of the hunters dropped in the snow. He didn’t know what hit him. The others were taken off guard. They dragged their friend’s body away and took cover behind the trees.
Gunshots exploded, ripping through the wooden door and breaking some of the windows. I released my hold on the old man’s brain and he collapsed in a heap on the floor. I flew up the chimney and soared above the cabin. The gunshots stopped and the hunters retreated. They would be back.
I flew high above the treetops and followed them. When they stopped, I drifted down and landed in the branches of a tall tree. The hunters were below me. They were setting up camp and building a fire.
There were three of them now. A fat one, a skinny one and a bearded one. The dead one lay nearby, staining the snow red with his blood. I had no use for him.
The bearded one chopped wood with his axe. He looked healthy and strong. The skinny one was struggling to light the fire, while the fat one just sat there and watched. I listened as the fat one spoke to the others. He told them that they would camp there for the night and in the morning, they would attack the cabin and kill the old man. I sat there in the branches of the tree and waited for night to come.
When it was dark, the men curled up around their blazing fire and tried to get some sleep. I waited until they were lying still and then I dropped down noiselessly into the snow. I crept towards the fat man who was wrapped up in his fur coat, snoring peacefully. Slowly, I reached out and took hold of the fat man’s mind.
I made him get up and walk over to where the dead man lay in the snow. I made him kneel down beside the corpse and take out his hunting knife. Then, I made him saw through the neck of his dead friend. When he was done, I made him smear his face with blood. Then I made him pick up the severed head and carry it back to the fire.
I released my hold on the fat man’s mind and that’s where I left him, standing in front of the fire, smeared with blood and holding the dead man’s severed head. When he looked down and saw the head, he screamed and woke the others. They scrambled to their feet and stared in horror at the severed head the fat man was clutching.
I watched it all from the safety of the trees. There were shouts and more screams as the skinny one and the bearded one grabbed their guns and blasted the fat man until he lay in a bloody heap on the snow.
Now there were only two.
They sat by the fire and waited. I watched and waited too. They were waiting for dawn to arrive. Then, they would attack the cabin and kill the old man. The bearded one threw more wood on the fire. He was too scared to sleep. The skinny one was weaker. He lay down and closed his eyes.
I took my chance, creeping up to the skinny one and reaching into his mind. I made him take out his hunting knife. I made him slowly get to his feet. The bearded one stared at us, wondering what was going on. I made the skinny one leap across the flames and attack the bearded one.
The kinny one was weak and the bearded one was too strong for him. I knew he would lose the fight. I released his mind and flew into the trees to watch from a safe distance. There was a fierce struggle, but in the end, the bearded one prevailed. He plunged the hunting knife into his friend’s chest and left the skinny one to bleed out on the snow.
Now there was only one.
I flew back to the cabin and slipped down the chimney. The old man lay on the floor where I left him. I took hold of his mind again and we searched through the cabin. There was not much in the place that I could use.
In a rusty metal box, I found a pair of garden shears. The handles were rusty, but the blades were still sharp. I made the old man pick them up. I made him look out the window and, through his eyes, I saw the bearded one coming across the snow, his gun at the ready.
“Come out old man!” the bearded one cried. “Come out or I’ll kill you!”
He fired his gun and a bullet ripped through the cabin door.
I made the old man shout, “OK! I’m coming out!”
I made him open the garden shears and place the blades at either side of his neck. Then, I made him throw open the door and walk out into the sunlight. When the bearded one saw him, he stopped in his tracks and raised his gun.
“What are you up to old man?” he demanded.
The old man didn’t say a word. I wouldn’t let him.
The bearded man cautiously approached.
“Why did you have to start shooting at us?” he asked. “We didn’t mean you any harm. We just needed a place to stay.”
The old man resisted me and for a moment, I lost control. A thin wail escaped his lips. “Help me!” he begged.
I regained control of his mind and, summoning all the strength he had in his withered arms, I made him slam the handles of the shears together. The blades snapped together, slicing off his head. It fell to the ground with a thud, then his body crumpled and collapsed in a bloody heap. My grip on his mind was broken and I floated upwards.
The bearded one was so shocked and stunned that all he could do was stare in horror at the terrible sight. I took advantage of his momentary weakness, dropping onto his shoulders and reaching into his brain to take charge.
Now, he was mine.
After we dragged the bodies into the cabin, we feasted on the remains until I was satiated. I made the bearded man throw another log on the fire and we sat down in the rocking chair. Together, we rocked back and forth, enjoying the heat from the roaring flames.
The bearded man was strong and healthy. His body would last a long time.
I love this story! The picture is awesome, too!
i get it. The old man used to be strong and young, but when he died of old age and weakness, the spirit looked for another young and strong man to possess. Choosing the bearded one. When the bearded one dies, he will continue this pattern.
Moral of the story: Beards are cool
That picture, oooohhhh. Dat old man got rekt m8
Good story, it would have been scarier if it was told by the old man or perhaps one of the hunters.
– When blood is spilled, run
That cabin looks cool and kinda funny being all alone and stuff with trees surrounding it. Hmmmm😡… I don’t think the old man would look like that but I guess it adds to the “horror” and can u imagine that guy eating a body like that…sick man.
Great story <3
The picture gives me creeps though :-!
i wish i were dat thing i’ll rule the world
Was this a Wendigo?
Omg now this was really scary
This was REALLY good,, I was actually hoping the men would somehow win T.T
One of my favourite stories sfk
The picture gives me the creeps
Wow its a great great story.. !!!!!!!
Strange, but good story…
Superb Story! I wonder what the thing is? The second picture is quite creepy. All i know is the thing is waiting for it’s next prey.
GREAT STORY! :0