The red-brown, battered pick-up coughed a plume of smoke one last time and stopped in front of a wood cabin in the middle of a small clearing in the woods. The ground was still green and the coniferous trees stood mighty and proud, somehow converging around the cottage like wolves around the dying prey. It was the second day of december and all the signs made it out to be a mild winter ahead.

Johnny got out of the pick-up truck, kicked it across the fender and turned to look at the cabin which had most surely seen better days. The construction itself looked solid enough to last a few more years without any the need for any structural reinforcement, however it lacked quite a lot on the aesthetic side.

“Maybe if someone would have given it a good scrub and made the fire before...” Johnny’s thought started and then trailed off to the reason he was here. He was offered his first writing contract ever, for a novel nonetheless.

After three years of submitting drafts, short stories, manuscripts, the works to all the publishing houses he could find online he finally caught a break. He’d submitted all types of stories ranging across all subjects, genres and styles of writing. Now, finally one of his ideas was chosen, discussed, a proposal was made and accepted and he was on his way to be a published writer.

So Johnny decided to ask for a spot to write thinking it would have the efect gasoline has on a fire for his imagination and productivity. He asked for a place away from the city and all distractions, somewhere secluded, a mountain cabin. He never thought to inspect the place before going for the first time. Standing in front of the cabin he was completely underwhelmed and pissed.

“Goddamn teenage chick-lit, rom-com steaming pile of horseshit. Fuck you Carrie Bradshaw!” Johnny yelled at the top of his lungs. No response, not even a bird chirp.

“Well, at least it’s quiet.” he sighed and started towards the cabin. The place looked just as deserted on the inside as it did on the outside. Even more so thanks to the cobwebs ever present at each corner, cranny and crook.

Johnny flipped the lights switch and the electric bulbs lit up the entire mess. Some of bulbs blew up, but that didn’t come as a surprise.

“What’s next? A werewolf, a skeleton in one of the closets, a demon all chained up in the fucking cellar?” he started thinking as he furiously carried boxes and crates over from the pick-up to the cabin. Most of the boxes were filled with bottles of whiskey and cans of beer, the cheapest blonde beer he could find when he left the city.

The sun went down early and Johnny was sitting at the big table on the first floor, drinking whiskey from the only unbroken and semi-clean glass he could find in the cupboard. The house was small, but spacious. The first floor served as a combination of kitchen, dining room and living room all in one. The open space made the room feel very large when in fact it wasn’t. There was also a bathroom there, the only one in the house. The second floor was a couple of bedrooms, one of them larger and equipped with a desk and wardrobe and the other one simpler, more spartan, with just a small bed.

As night came so did the cold and Johnny started looking around wildly for a way to heat all that space. He went through all the rooms looking for the heating system when he realized that the house probably used the 2 fireplaces, one in the main room downstairs and one in the master bedroom, for heating.

“Goddamn-fucking-piss-shit!” he yelled in frustration when he found not even a splinter of wood anywhere in the house. He finally fell asleep in the master bedroom under a pile of old blankets and rags, his boots, coat and outside clothes still on.

Johnny woke up the next morning with a sore throat, congested lungs and an overall ache in his body. He got out of bed, went out of the front door and started urinating up a corner of the cabin.

“Take this, you fucking frozen fortress!” he said while the steam was rising up from his stream. He felt better about himself and about life. A quick glance around revealed a pile of firewood built right along one of the sides of the house.

He swiftly carried an armful of them to the master bedroom and started lighting the fire. It was no easy feat for him, born and raised in the city. The only information he had on this subject matter were the cowboy films he had watched as a kid. His frozen fingers were not helping much either. After half an hour of toil and with the help of his trusty Zippo lighter he managed to get the fire going.

The warmth was starting to make its presence felt so Johnny laid down in front of the fire and fell asleep. When he woke up it was passed noon and the fire was dwindling down.

“Ok, now that we’ve had a good rest, let’s get to work!”

Johnny started unpacking one of the smaller boxes and took out a wireless router. He’d prepared for the eventuality of having no internet connection there so he’d bought a wifi router and a data plan card. He quickly installed it in the bedroom and heard his smartphone start beeping with notifications.

He had made a pact with himself not to use the internet for anything else except research. He was never big on scrolling through social media, however binging stupid shows on Netflix or spending hours on reddit was a different thing. So the idea was, no Netflix and reddit until the book was finished.

“Well, maybe a little reddit...for research purposes only.” he smiled and said under his breath.

“OK, now that we’re connected let’s get warm.” he said and set off for the wood pile and started bring in log after log until there was a big pile next to the bed.

“OK, great. Now dinner.”

Johnny brought four six-packs up to the bedroom and left them outside the door.

“No need for a refrigerator in this igloo.” he said taking an extra bottle of whiskey and a bag of chips in the room.

He put his laptoon on the desk, plugged in the wall socket, powered it and poured himself a large drink of whiskey.

“OK, let’s get crackalackin’!”

Three hours had passed, the whiskey bottle was empty, a couple of empty beer cans casually laid by the foot of the desk and no word had been produced.

“Jojo Moyes can gobble my hairy, sweaty balls.” Johnny wailed banging his fists on the desk on both sides of the laptop making it jump a few centimeters off the table. “Why is this so hard?”

He got up and started staring through the window in the absolute pitch black of the outside. Even the stars and the moon had gone away, like the whole cabin was encased in a velvety black box. There was no sound except the crackles of the fire.

“What the fuck am I doing? Here I am, 32 years old trying to turn buckets of beer into erotic fantasy novels for improperly fucked women. Here I am, with my beer gut, creating expectations that no man can fulfill.” The thought made him chuckle as he fell drunk into the bed.

When he woke up the fire had died for some time and the room was freezing cold. Johnny got out of the bed stiff and decided to take a shower. The cabin had running water and a small boiler for the bathroom. He came out the shower feeling refreshed and decided to take a walk around the cabin to clear his head and maybe come up with some ideas.

He never realised until that walk how out of shape he was. The only physical exercise he got in the city was running after a bus or tram. He’d never been one of those people to enjoy walks in the city, however here he felt the need to explore, know his surroundings.

After a couple of hours of walking he was completely spent and realized he might be lost. There was no sign of a trail and the cabin was out if view range. He started pacing fast then running through the woods. It was quiet besides of the rustling of the trees.

“Johnny, you shithead...” he thought “...did you even think of researching the area before? Maybe there’s wolves here or bears or motherfucking pterodactyls for what you know.”

He started panting and soon enough was out of breath. He stopped, closed his eyes for a bit and saw tiny light worms form behind closed lids. Johnny passed out on the damp soil.

When he came to the sun was getting close to the end of its shift and Johnny felt the hairs on his arms, back and legs prick up. “Danger!” his senses blurted out all at once. He started running knowing he might not survive a night in the woods.

After only half an hour he emerged from between some thick bushes to see the back of the cabin.

“You ugly beast! I never thought I’d be so happy to see you!” he yelled as small droplets of water were forming at the corner of his eyes.

As he circled the cabin he took an armful of wood for the fire and made his way to the front door. On the porch, right in front of the door was a big cardboard box without any markings. It was obscuring the door and Johnny tried to move it without any avail. He finally managed to squeeze himself through the small space between the box and the cabin wall to get inside.

When he had signed the book deal the publication assigned him a case worker, someone to be his first point of contact for any matter. Now, Johnny decided he would call her and see about the box.

“Hey, Dana, how’s everything?” he said jovially into the phone.

“Everything’s great Johnny, how are you?” the voice replied.

“Oh, you know, I’m fine, fine. Hey listen, did you guys order a refrigerator for the cabin or anything else big like that?”

“No, why? I thought the cabin was fully equipped. Do you need anything?” Dana said with some irritation in her voice. She knew these artist types, never happy. Signed a deal for something then kept asking for more and more, making her life a living hell.

“Oh, it is, everything’s fine. It’s just that there’s a big box on the porch and I have no idea how or why it got there. ”

“Well, look inside it.”

“I will, yeah, maybe. Anyway, thanks for clearing that up.”

“Hey, Johnny, just a minute please. How’s the book going?”

“It’s ok, fine, yeah, fine.” Johnny started lying badly. “I mean, words are just gushing out of me, pages are coming out one after another, lying everywhere.”

“I thought you worked digitally.” Dana’s flat voice pointed out the absurdity of his tirade.

“Well, yeah. I meant they were lying around in my head, just waiting to come out.”

“So by when do you think you can send over a first draft?”

“Well, I’d say a couple of months, three tops.”

“OK, Johnny. Just send me some updates from time to time, management is asking, you know.”

“Sure, will do, have a nice day, bye!” Johnny said in one breath, eager to end the conversation. He was sure she knew he hadn’t written a single word, he was afraid his deal would be canceled and they’d ask for the money back. He’d already spent part of the money paying some of his debts so that was not an option.

Dana heard the the call being disconnected and started thinking about these spoiled writers getting their check and getting drunk, stoned, coked-up somewhere with their friends and whores, not writing a single word. She’d got this job a few years back just so she could be in the business and maybe have it easier to publish one of her already written books. No luck so far.

In the cabin Johnny realised his circumstances, three days in and not a word produced. He rushed to his bedroom and started typing furiously. After two hours he had six full pages and a list of ideas for about half of the book, then he remember the box.

Pleased with his efficiency he went downstairs and took another look at the box. No markings, no sign, just a small delivery sheet.

“DrexLabs Company? No address, what the fuck is this?” he said looking over the piece of white paper. The only thing besides the name was a toll free phone number. He decided to call and see where that goes.

The call connected almost instantaneously.

“DrexLabs. How may we help you?” the automated voice said on the other end.

“Ummm, yeah, hello? I received a package from you apparently, but I didn’t order anything.” Johnny said.

“Please communicate the unit id?” the automated voice said in the same flat tone.

“What unit id? I have no idea what you’re talking about? Listen, whatever this is I didn’t order it and I’m not paying for it. Just take it back.”

“Please communicate the unit id?” the automated voice replied.

“Fuck you and your fucking unit id. Get me a real human to talk to.”

“Please communicate the unit id?” the answer was heard on the line in the same flat voice.