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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

Write about a character who, for whatever reason, retreats to a remote cabin.

Posted in Mystery on Jan 13, 2023

Submissions are closed

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✍️ 62 stories

“Writing in the Woods” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #181

Writing in the Woods.              I have always been a city boy, lived in the Big Town all my life. I really like being where everything and everyone is within close reach. The way I have long I seen the world is that if anything interesting is going on, it’s happening in the city – good jobs, good food, big league sports, and multiple movies and musical acts from which to choose.            So why am I heading for a...

10 comments 10
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“The Axe and the Egg” by Alyssa H

Submitted to Contest #181

I’m not used to running for my life. I crash through the woods, trying not to trip over my feet in the dark. My breaths come out ragged and my thighs burn with exhaustion. Slung over one shoulder is a bag containing all that remains of my possessions. Tucked safely under my arm is a golden Faberge egg, ridiculous in its opulence and heavy with encrusted jewels. This egg is my ticket to freedom, to a new life.  Barking dogs echo through the woodland behind me, all around me. I can’t tell how far away they are, but it isn’t far enough. ...

1 comment 1
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“Strains of Salvation” by Nada Elbehery

Submitted to Contest #181

TW: This story contains themes of violence, murder, and suicide. Walking around this place had always brought me peace. It was like a magic button to me—I set a foot here, and inspiration comes in like a raging flood. But not anymore. With a heavy sigh, I packed my belongings and got up, scanning my surroundings one last time. I promised myself to never come back again and cause myself more disappointments. I know a site famous for frequent suicidal attempts is not exactly the place to go looking for inspiration, but the sadness that o...

1 comment 1
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“Alice” by Mazie Maris

Submitted to Contest #181

For long as she can remember, Alice loved to hide. It drove her mother crazy, often literally to the point of panic, and just once to the point of a call to the town sheriff. The thrill of the hunt, the excitement of knowing the moment was focused on her, the game of hide and seek; it all made the blood flow through her veins like nothing she’d ever experienced. Sometimes she would hide for fun, other times for real. She had books stuffed in the back of her closet, stories of mermaids and fantasy lands when she was little, books of wizards...

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“Supernatural Consequence” by Sarah Goodner

Submitted to Contest #181

Larry checked his rear view mirror for the red and blue flashing lights he hoped he’d outrun. He glimpsed a reflection of himself, the baseball cap barely shielding his crazed brown eyes and half-grown, scraggly brown beard. The smell of acrid sweat rose off him like beer mixed with sour cream that had gone bad.  The wreck he caused by his drunken driving was miles behind him, but he kept running, just in case. He had accidentally swerved into oncoming traffic and then back into his lane at the last minute, but not before an oncoming c...

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“S.H.E.I.L.A.” by Andy Sinclair

Submitted to Contest #181

I needed a break from work, hell, I needed a break from life. My workload had tripled at work and there was no way I was going to be able to function at the end of it all. Deciding I had had enough for one day, I closed down my computer and headed out Unfortunately, going straight home was not an option. My four-legged friend, Artemis, was out of food. I teased her all of the time about how she was eating me out of house and home, but when you buy the largest breed of German Shepherd, a King Shepherd, you get what you pay for. As I was che...

3 comments 3
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“Supertramp Cabin ” by Ksenija Rubež

Submitted to Contest #181

Leaving the van, the headache would not stop. It all started this morning during his last running session in the city. He had to crouch, in order to try and regain his balance and clearness of sight. The pain was similar as if someone had put something around his head and was squeezing his skull to the inside.  The headaches were common since he quit drinking, among other things. They would just pop up anytime and anywhere.  When nausea and the unbearable wave of pain had passed, he got up. Out of his pocket, he took out a terribly...

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“What I Bare” by Barrett Windrow

Submitted to Contest #181

TW: Mentions of mild gore, death, and mental health issues. The mountains were something that I had always held near and dear. My family frequented them often; ski trips were an annual Christmas tradition that we took part in to make something out of the bitter cold. Our little cabin in the crook of the mountains became my happy place, that being the only place in the world where I could truly destress. We weren’t a particularly well-to-do family-- my mother worked night shifts at the hospital while my father ran a local cafe-- but my par...

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“Changing Spaces” by Tanya Daene

Submitted to Contest #181

Changing Spaces They stared each other down. Blue eyes met brown with a fierceness that could cut glass. How had they ended up in this predicament? Enemies for longer than they could remember, relying on one another for survival. Joe's knowledge of all things survival made him invaluable in their current situation. Manni's supplies, cabin and only water supply gave Joe a leg up in this crisis that he was not willing to sever. Basic words were the key, at this point. A series of grunts and acknowledgments were all that had passed b...

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“Incident at Resurrection Mountain ” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #181

Murder Cove was not named for the homicides that have taken place there, but there are many tourists who come here expecting to hear grisly tales of murders that have occurred here. Standing on Murder Rock, A person would suspect the three hundred foot drop would be the perfect place to commit a murder, but this would not be the case.  Murder Rock was so named for the abundance of crows that flutter among the steep terrain.  According to native belief, the crows are the carriers of the souls of the deceased.  Stories do tell o...

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“Safe Space” by James Bargent

Submitted to Contest #181

*Contains references to Mental Health and Self Harm.* The number of times I've walked these paths is beyond counting. Separate space just for me. Where I'm going, no one can harm me, no one can pass judgement, and no one can tell me what to do. Zero critics, I am who I am, and that's what makes me happy. Each of us has our own unique set of little secrets that define who we are. As one might expect, some are considerably larger than others. Nonetheless, pretend your entire existence is a fabrication. When you're around, the usual calmness...

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“The Cabin” by Lou Villalta

Submitted to Contest #181

It was warm. Wait, let me start again. …Feeling this pen, in my hand…it’s heavy. Isn’t that funny? A pen is what… can’t be more than a few grams…even a baby can handle one. But this one…it’s heavy. Maybe because of what I’m about to say, or write, rather. To be honest, I’ve been thinking about what to write since I’ve met you. No, I didn’t think I’d end up here, in the middle of the woods. No, this was a dream I had when I was living a life that was so long ago, I can barely remember it. I just had a baby. I was 15. Believe me. I ...

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“Gallows Hill” by David Ader

Submitted to Contest #181

In the old days, according to his people’s laws, it would have been perfectly fine to replace a relative who died with someone adopted into the family. That was especially the case if the relative had been murdered by a rival tribe. The tradition was straightforward. If justice was demanded, you would take the life of an enemy or take someone, preferably a child, as an adoptee. It had been that way since time began. All the groups, the tribes, understood this. Even the French did, those sour men in their lice-ridden black robes. But not Yan...

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“Petrichor” by Joe Owens

Submitted to Contest #181

Pop had a large smile. He was a large man after all with thick arms and callous hands. The other electricians called him “Big Tex.” He wasn’t from Texas though, but that didn’t matter. He was big, and that was enough. His eyes were not smiling now. They were staring through me—waiting impatiently.  Pop cleared his voice after a moment. “Look at her when you are talking.” He pressed his callous fingers into the crevice of my neck, forcing me to look at the cabin. The roof was covered in moss. The wood looked rotten; dark patches covered ...

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“Shelter” by Rebecca Morgan

Submitted to Contest #181

Soon the sun would slink below the mountains folding its golden patchwork of brilliance into murky shadows of the forest. Squirrels, chipmunks and rabbits out gathering their evening meal scattered at the thunk of a car door slamming. Shoulders slumped under the weight of luggage; she navigated the narrow boardwalk strung from the driveway to the cabin amongst a canopy of tall hickory’s oaks, pines, and cedars. Twice the shoulder bag wedged between the narrow handrails and crashed to the damp floor halting her forward motion. “Ugh”...

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