Thursday. Goddamn Thursday was the earliest my breakdown cover could send a mechanic out to fix my car, due to being outside the usual radius of the service and the lack of availability. According to the person on the phone I was considered a ‘low priority’ case since I was ‘safe’ at a residential location.

“Low priority,” I scoffed. “I’m in the middle of a forest where the shadows are alive. Low priority my gruesome death, asshole.”

I glared at the figure outside. It wasn’t hiding anymore, not flickering in and out of my peripheral, instead just standing ramrod still at the edge of the clearing, watching the lodge like a ghostly sentry. I couldn’t make out any details in the darkness, but I could feel its gaze on me. It knew I was there and it knew I couldn’t escape. Who knows what it would do if I stepped outside and tried to run, if I didn’t get extremely lost and die of starvation first.

Adrian had officially announced that he thought I was crazy and only seemed to shut up when I sent him a photo of my car engine. He assumed that some other campers in the park had decided to make me their victim to mess with and just warned me to ‘be safe’.

“Low priority. Crazy. Be safe.” I sighed. “No one is listening to me here.” What camper could sneak up and destroy a car engine in less than a minute, then just vanish?

The figure twitched.

“I’d rather you didn’t listen,” I told it, as if it could even hear me from outside.

Then again, it probably could. Who knows what the monsters of the forest could or could not do. I just hoped I didn’t have to find out. Freaking me out and ruining my car would do, thanks, I’ll pass on the rest of the horror movie.

The figure twitched again, and I realized it had taken a step closer to the lodge.

I texted Adrian, almost begging for him to come and pick me up or even just stay with me. His reply was immediate - no. I was to enjoy my time away and not let the idiots get to me.

“I swear you’ll regret those words at my funeral.” I slammed my phone onto the kitchen counter and pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders. I hadn’t found any central heating and the lodge seemed to fluctuate between being too hot and too cold, the water either firing frozen bullets or burning my skin off my body.

Beside my phone lay the largest knife I could find in the kitchen drawers and I touched the hilt with my fingers, spinning it slowly on the counter. I just had to survive until Thursday, I told myself. Then I could drive away and follow the mechanic out of the forest, bumper to bumper.

I looked up and the figure was gone.

“Great…”

Then the lights started flickering, the generator coughing and spluttering outside. I was not going out there to sort it out, the food in the fridge could spoil all it liked.

Then the doorbell rang.

Wait, this place had a doorbell?

Then a knocking, harsh and demanding.

I’d ensured all the doors and windows were securely locked, but that didn’t help calm the fear shivering up my spine.

Then a hand pressed against the glass of the sliding doors, a hand as pale as the moon, nails so long they curled and clinked against the glass, fingers stained copper like rust.

I couldn't see anything behind the hand, but it started pressing harder against the door as if trying to push it open with mere strength. A slight crack splintered in the glass.

“Sleep well, Charlie,” a voice whispered, and the hand peeled away and disappeared like ash in the night.