Last Resort

I always loved the quiet of the old cabin in the woods. It was my escape from the chaos of city life, a place where I could breathe and feel the peace of nature. Each visit, I'd spend days lost in books by the fireplace, the only sounds being the crackle of burning wood and the distant hoot of an owl.

This time, though, something felt off. The air was colder, the silence more profound. I chalked it up to the changing seasons, but as night fell, unease settled over me like a heavy fog. I decided to read, hoping to lose myself in a story and forget the creeping dread.

As I flipped through the pages, my eyes caught something odd. A passage in the book I was reading described the cabin exactly, down to the peculiar knot in the wood above the mantelpiece.

"That's strange"

I thought, 

"I've never read this before." 

But the next sentence gave me chills,

"Tonight, he will realize he's not alone in the cabin."

I looked up, heart pounding. And there, in the reflection of the window, a figure stood behind me and smiled before swinging his axe at me.