literature

The Doorbell

Deviation Actions

Published: Nov 7, 2013

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Literature Text

My friends and I would always go on a camping trip every summer. Even during College, when we had time off we would pack up and go off to the woods in Tennessee. My friend Samantha had a grandfather who owned a 100-year old cabin out there, and that's where we would camp out.

This year was no different. We left our busy lives, the four of us, and packed up and drove to Tennessee. The drive wasn't unbearable at a mere four hours, and we kept ourselves busy by singing to the latest pop music hits on the radio, catching up with each other and telling stories. Finally, the van turned onto the old dirt road that led deep into the woods, and we all let out a sigh of relief. Dusk was falling and the stars were just beginning to peek out from the purple and yellow sky, casting the orange leaves a pale gold.

The van bumped along the road with steady bounces and jars. Somebody's phone wen't off, ding-dong. Just like a doorbell. Kind of a weird text tone, but I thought nothing of it.

Jason, who was driving, suddenly slammed on the breaks. The rest of us cried out at the sudden halt, and began to question him, almost angrily. "I saw something move across the road;" he said, eyes frantically searching the small strip of road that was illuminated by the headlights. "It was probably a fox or something. Come on!" I said, smiling, and giving him a rough shake of the shoulders. "Don't let some animal scare you now!" I laughed. Jason looked as if he wasn't listening. "No, It wasn't a fox..." he said, sounding deep in thought. "It looked... human. But it was crawling."

The rest of us looked at each other. Jason's voice sounded oddly distant.

"Oh come on, Jason! Save the scary stories for the campfire!" Samantha said with a weak laugh, wrapping herself in her coat tighter. At last Jason began to drive again, and just as night fell we reached the cabin. It looked spooky and foreboding, illuminated by the headlights. It was a log cabin, and had belonged to Samantha's grandfather's father when he was young. Outside the cabin was a fire pit, and the rocks encircled the ashes from last year's camping trip. The original door had long since been replaced by a modern one, complete with a peephole. Sam's grandfather had really put that there as a joke, after all, who would come knocking on a cabin door out in the middle of nowhere?

We all hopped out of the van and removed our bags from the trunk, carrying them to the door as Sam unlocked it. As it opened, it let out a resisting creak, as if it was unhappy about being disturbed. The musty smell of dust and old wood wafted from the interior of the cabin, causing Sam and Juliet to sneeze. Girls.

We carried our bags in, and with childlike speed, Sam and Juliet both claimed the two top bunks. Me and Jason, who seemed to be back to normal, settled with the bottom bunks. My small lantern lit up the sparsely furnished cabin; two sets of bunk beds, a table and four chairs, and a modern bathroom. We began putting sheets on the old mattresses, then put our sleeping bags on those. After our beds were set up, we went outside to start the camp fire. We all searched around the cabin for suitable tinder and sticks, and piled them neatly in the fire pit. Jason, who was a smoker, always carried a lighter, so getting the flame in the pit was a breeze. Juliet went around the van to get the marshmallows. Ding-dong, there goes somebody's phone again, I bet it's Jason--

A scream pierced the air. We all jolted, and Juliet came tearing around the van, her eyes were wide and her face was pale. I swear I could hear her thundering heartbeat from where I stood. Jason jumped up and ran to her, and the rest of us followed. She was stuttering and pointing, and after some calming down, she began to make sense.

"I saw it, I saw it, I saw it;" She was repeating over and over. Jason shook her shoulders. "You saw it too? What did it look like?" Juliet swallowed hard, her face still pale. She appeared unable to speak. She shook her head furiously. Sam gave a nervous laugh. "You guys, stop it. You did something like this last year, we know your game." I remembered, too; Juliet and Jason had scared the willies out of Sam and I last year with a series of pranks.

After she had calmed down, Juliet came over to the campfire and sat down, marshmallows clutched to her chest. She appeared to snap out of her wide-eyed fear then, and opened the bag, found a suitable stick and began to roast her marshmallows. We all followed suit, and Sam pulled out graham crackers and chocolate to make smores with. We all munched and told scary stories, laughed and sang until three AM, and when we all began to yawn, we put the fire out and headed inside. I was the first to go in, because my lantern sat on the table and for some reason I was the only one that could ever work it.

"Alright," I said as the flame bounced around inside the glass. I stood up, triumphant, and turned around, lantern high. "I am the lantern maste-"

I stopped.

My tongue froze with what my eyes saw.

Juliet and Jason stood in the doorway, eyes wide and empty. Blood dripped from them, tracing down their faces, falling with steady plop, plops on the aged floor. Sam, seeing my face, turned around, and let out a terrified scream, covering her mouth in horror. I didn't know what to think, my rational mind told me that this was all fake, some sick prank; but my instincts were telling me to run. Run away and never look back.

My two friends' faces were pale and sunken in, and they seemed to be getting worse and more terrifying by the second. Suddenly Jason leaped forward, sending blood flying from his eyes, and grabbed Sam by the neck, pulling her towards him. I cried out, trying to grab hold of her, but they pulled her out of the cabin, and the door slammed shut, leaving me in awful, quiet silence. Not knowing what else to do, I ran forward and bolted the door, put the table against it, anything to keep whatever was outside, outside.

Part of me prayed that this was all a joke. A prank. Some sick thing that sound be told around the campfire and laughed at in years to come.

But as time passed and the silence grew, my terror clenched tighter around my lungs. Slowly, I pushed myself off the floor, approaching the peephole. Trembling, I put my eye to the hole.

Nothing. Just blackness and glowing embers of the fire met my gaze. This should have calmed me, but it make my fear grow, and I pulled out my phone, frantically dialing 911.

The phone rang and rang and rang.

No signal. Of course.

Anger mixed with my terror and I flung the phone across the room, not daring to look out the window that it had hit. I slunk down on my bed, wrapping myself in blankets like a child, as if that would keep me safe. My heart pounded still, my ribs were beginning to ache from it.

What felt like hours later, my eyes began to get heavy. I tried to fight off the sleep that dragged at my eyes, but it was no use.

I started.

Blinking, I glanced around. What had awoken me? Dawn was just barely beginning to peak between the trees outside the window. Remembering the night, I noticed, with a shiver going up my spine, that my friends had not returned Maybe it WAS all a joke, maybe they're in the van. My vain attempts to reassure myself only incited more fear.

Ding-dong.

The doorbell split the silence. My sleepy eyes blinked again, and I let out a sigh of relief, sure that it was my friends, who would come laughing into the room at any moment, recounting the look on my face last night.

I stood up and began to remove the furniture blocking the door, a smile on my face. But then, I remembered.

This was a 100-year old cabin.

It didn't have a doorbell.