Lost in the Woods

A seasoned hiker decided to venture into the mountains alone—a challenge he rarely took on by himself. The day started perfectly. Sunlight filtered through the thick canopy as he trekked along rugged trails, surrounded by towering trees and wild undergrowth. The solitude felt refreshing at first, filling him with peace.

Hours passed, and as the sky turned a bruised shade of purple, he decided it was time to head back. Eight hours of hiking seemed enough for one day. But as he retraced his steps, unease slowly crept in. The familiar path twisted in unfamiliar ways. Trees he thought he recognized now stood like menacing sentinels. Every rustling leaf and snapping twig heightened his senses. He was lost.

Nightfall descended quickly, wrapping the forest in a suffocating blanket of darkness. His flashlight pierced the shadows but barely. Panic thudded in his chest as he realized he wouldn’t make it out before his flashlight died. He needed shelter—and fast.

Stumbling blindly through the trees, he spotted something through the tangled branches: a cabin, old and weathered, its decaying walls barely standing against the elements. Relief washed over him. It looked abandoned, but it was shelter. He knocked, but only silence answered. With no other option, he pushed the creaking door open.

Inside, the air was damp and stale. Dust-coated furniture lay scattered, and in the center of the room, a surprisingly clean, single bed awaited—like it had been expecting him. Desperation overrode caution. If the owner returned, he could explain himself. He convinced himself that whoever lived here must’ve been long gone.

As he settled into the musty mattress, something prickled at his senses—watching eyes. The cabin’s walls were covered in portraits—strange, grimy paintings of twisted faces, their features distorted into eerie grins. Each pair of cold, painted eyes seemed to follow him, their expressions locked in sinister amusement.

He shivered, but exhaustion from the day’s hike anchored him to the bed. His eyes drifted shut despite the unease.

When he woke up, the first rays of dawn streamed through the room, warming his face. Blinking away sleep, he slowly sat up...and froze.

There were no paintings on the walls.

Only windows.

And they were still watching him.