I Stayed with an Old Woman in the Mountains

I’ve had the same friends since high school, but as the years passed, it became more difficult to see them often. We used to live within ten minutes of each other; a nostalgic memory now that everyone had moved to various points around the country. To stay in each other’s lives, we decided to commit to meeting up somewhere each summer. I’ve never liked flying, but after last year, it has become a much more preferable option.

The plan was to stay at a cabin in Maine, and instead of flying, I elected to take the two-day drive. Luckily, a family friend knew someone who ran a bed & breakfast around the halfway point and offered to set up a reservation for me. At the end of the first day of travel, the sun had been down for nearly two hours when I happened upon a gas station. After parking, I read the rest of the directions given to me, only to realize they were far too vague. My exhaustion got the better of me, and despite the late hour, I called the B&B's number.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Marie?”

“Yes…”

“Hey, I’m Cal. I’m supposed to be staying with you tonight?” 

I paused for a confirmation, which didn’t come immediately. I thought that maybe she didn’t hear me or the line dropped, but when her tired and thin voice returned, she seemed more surprised than anything.

“Right… Okay.”

“Ya, it was booked by a woman named Carla Henning. Sorry, it’s so late, I’m just having a bit of trouble with the directions,” I explained.

There was another shorter silence followed by a sigh.

“Where are you?” 

It was a fair question, but one I was unprepared for. I frantically checked my phone for my location, relaying it to her as best as I could.

“I’ll be right there,” She said, hanging up. 

I was taken aback. I had expected her to explain the directions in more detail, or to possibly stay on the line while I drove. Instead, I felt a little silly that she was coming to get me. After about half an hour, a low sputtering reached my ears before I saw her truck drive up, red with faded paint and rust.

Marie rolled down her window, and I admit I was a little shocked at exactly how ancient she looked. The creases in her face seemed to force her expression into a permanent scowl, and her hair was sparse, yet curiously shaggy. 

“Are you Cal?”

“Yep, that’s me. Sorry about all of this,” I said, trying to be as repentant as possible.

“Oh, it’s no trouble. The roads around here have a mind of their own if you don’t know where you’re going. Just follow me.” She gave a small, but friendly smile as she rolled her window back up.

I got back into my car and felt a twinge of guilt, not only for putting her out but also my misjudgment. Her truck rumbled louder as she exited the gas station, and not wanting to betray her kindness any further, I quickly followed.

After turning off the highway, the road slowly winded and narrowed into a steep path as we entered the Goliath Mountains. Pine trees rose on either side and even if they weren’t so dense, the moonless sky kept me from seeing much beyond the road. Eventually, Marie turned into a large clearing and I parked beside her, looking around as much as I could. 

Straight ahead was a two-story house whose siding may have once been yellow, even if it seemed to have forgotten it. Shingles were missing from the roof, and the chimney was falling apart, but the lights on inside provided some sense of comfort. On the other side of the clearing was a smaller bungalow, with many of the same features and defects, but no warming light from within. I turned off my car before stepping out.

“Well, that’s your house over there. Sorry, it's not the bigger one.” Marie said with a chuckle, “I’ll unlock it.” 

She strode ahead through the unkempt grass to the guest house, and I quickly grabbed my bag before catching up in time for her to get inside and turn on the light. I stepped in and examined the decor that no doubt had existed long before either house. A dead fireplace sat across from me, and to my right a small table with a wood-burning stove behind it. On the other side of the room was a large orange couch, and in all the corners sat strange, but beautiful plants. Still, I could sense that something was off.

“Where’s the bathroom?” I asked. 

“You can use that bucket there.” She responded, pointing to a corner that indeed held a large, metal bucket. 

I thought she might be joking, but her expression suggested otherwise. My disbelief must have been evident since she was quick to offer an alternative.

“You can also use the bathroom in my house if you need to. I’ll leave the back door unlocked. That’s the pull-out bed there, and if you need anything else, I’m a pretty light sleeper.” She then bade me goodnight and left.

Fatigue washed over me, so rather than stay up to read or watch something, I decided to retire to bed. After wrestling with the pull-out and eventually pinning it, I turned out the light and laid down. A curtainless window hung to the right of the front door and directly across from my face. Through it, a quarter moon stared down at me, so I turned over and wondered how long it would take me to fall asleep.

I woke up after seemingly no time at all, as judged by the brightness of the moonlight still streaming into the guest house. I hadn’t moved, so I was still staring at the back wall and the projected silhouette of the window’s cross frame. In the frame’s bottom corner, I noticed a shadow and assumed it was a spot of dried paint or some other blemish. My exhaustion was winning once again when a chill ran through my body as I saw the shadow move.

It was only for a second, so my mind ran wild with rationalizations. I thought perhaps I hadn’t seen it move at all, and if I did, it may be just a swaying bush outside. Ten minutes passed by my guess, and the shadow remained. I knew that if I didn’t investigate, sleep would remain a stranger to me, so I decided to turn and look. After some self-persuasion, I spun around and the thing in the window moved out of sight. 

I froze, propped up on my elbow, and heard nothing but my heartbeat. I had seen it for barely an instant, so only made out one detail. However, it was all that was needed to send my fear over the edge. Because when I turned to the window, someone’s eye had stared back at me.

I jumped out of bed and instinctually went for the light, but stopped myself, knowing that it would only give an advantage to the watcher. Grabbing my phone, my worst expectations were fulfilled as it had no service. With my options diminishing, I summoned up a sliver of courage to confront my night stalker. Picking up a fire poker, I threw open the door before I could convince myself otherwise.

Beyond the threshold, I had anticipated the scariest person imaginable but horrifyingly found no one. I began to think more clearly and deduced that the person may have slipped around the back. Turning left, I crept around the side of the guest house, approaching the rear, and my guess was confirmed. I saw the back of someone just around the corner. They were cloaked and crouched, probably waiting for me to come around the other side. When I was a footstep behind, I swung my makeshift weapon at the figure's head, and stayed only long enough to watch them collapse before I sprinted to the main house.

Bursting through the back door, I called out to Marie. Without a response, I began to search the house for her, heading upstairs first. After checking a bathroom and a cluttered storage room, I finally found a bedroom, but the bed was empty. Instead, my gaze was drawn by a collection of scattered pages on a table in the corner. Turning on the light, I looked through them and, from what I could make out, they were the paranoid ramblings of someone far less sane than how Marie had first appeared.

Supposedly she had found something in the mountains. A map was enclosed, showing a nearby lake, and a small cave that had been circled with the word “CAMP” written in red. In these writings, along with her fear, she seemed also deeply regretful. She was desperate to return what she had taken but was somehow unable to. There was a constant dread, as she believed that someone was coming for her. While it was unclear who or what this was, she seemed to know when it would come, and that it was inevitable. That was all I could read, and I turned towards the door, only for my heart to drop to my stomach. There in the doorway, in a ragged and dirty cloak, stood Marie. 

The wrinkles of her face contorted to mirror her psychosis, now reflecting the woman in the papers behind me. A red trickle ran down her forehead, no doubt from the fire poker I still held. Noticing the kitchen knife in her hand, I froze once again. We stared at each other, waiting for something to happen, and my sight moved to the wall on her right. A calendar hung there, with an impressionist ocean painting, and a circle around today’s date.

“Marie, listen…” I tried to mediate. 

She interrupted by charging at me, blade first, and I jumped onto the bed to leap around to the doorway. She came at me again, so I swung the fire poker once more but only succeeded in embedding it into the wall. Unable to get it loose, and with my rampaging host before me, I chose to leave my only defense and flee.

I flew down the stairs but felt her bounding close behind me. Breaking through the front door, I ran to my car and tried to open it before realizing that my keys were still in the guest house. I barely had time to curse before Marie was upon me again, and I was forced to run in the other direction, into the forest. Branches whipped my face, and I stumbled over nature’s uncounted and unseen obstacles as I plunged into the dark of the wood. I’m not sure how long it was before I checked behind me, but once I did, I was punished with a large stump that sent me landing flat on my face. I quickly scanned my surroundings, finding that Marie was nowhere to be seen and hearing nothing of her strangely energetic chase. After making sure I wasn’t seriously injured, I dusted myself off and weighed my options. Going back was the obvious worst idea, but I struggled to think of much else. At last, I decided to walk further into the forest, hoping to discover my salvation elsewhere.

Either due to the cover of clouds or the density of the trees, the moon provided only a glimmer. I still had my phone, and although it couldn’t make calls, it could still light my way. With a half-dead battery though, I tried my best to feel my way around instead. Staying calm while doing that, though, was not an easy feat. It wasn’t enough that this forest was dark and alien, but like most others, it was loud. Trees creaked, the wind whistled, and animals called out to each other. More than once, the otherworldly cry of an elk sent me into a cold sweat before I realized what it was. Surprisingly though, and thankfully, none of my frequent stops to look around me ever came up with anything.

Before long I broke through the forest’s edge and the shimmering blackness of a lake lay before me. As expected, a cave emerged from the ground to the right. Marie had marked this area “CAMP,” so in my desperate mind I hoped that there may be something useful inside, even perhaps a radio. The entrance was smaller than expected and was so close to the shoreline that I needed to sidle along the water’s edge to enter. Once I did, I was met with a steep slope that almost got the better of me as I descended into the earth.

The moonlight reached about halfway down, so once I found the bottom, I was in complete darkness. It was at this point that I gave in, and sparingly used my phone to examine my surroundings. Ahead was a narrow hallway stretching forward into unseen depths. The suffocating shadow made pressing on difficult, but I still held onto my sliver of courage. With the hallway appearing perfectly straight, I tried to keep my light off as much as possible. However, the fear of walking into something horrible or falling into some unknown pit did not keep me blind for long.

The only sounds were my footsteps and breathing, echoing through the passage. The rhythm they formed only amplified the solitude that I was trying very hard to fend off. Of course, when that feeling disappeared, it became all the worse.

It started slow, a barely noticeable noise that likely occurred a few times before I became aware of it. Eventually, though, my foot scraped the cave floor at the same time that a heavier dragging sound came from behind. I turned around immediately and heard nothing, unsure if it was my imagination. Unfortunately, the disorienting blackness stretching out on either side didn’t help. After listening for several more silent moments, I turned back and continued. However, the noise was cruel, as right when I felt slightly comfortable again, it returned. Like before, I stopped and listened to the emptiness. Silence once again.

I was about to continue when a far worse rendition of the noise erupted. I could hear with certainty, something heavy, and rough being dragged on the ground in short repetition. I did not have time to analyze it further, since, after a pause, it transformed into a continuous slither. Without hesitation, I turned and fled, praying the hallway would finally end in safety.

My legs burned and I started to think the tunnel might indeed be endless. Finally, my hand left the wall as I entered a new area. I could make out a door behind me, so as my pursuer grew closer, I slammed the door and held it with all my weight. The horrible dragging became louder, and my confidence in that thin barrier waned. Right when it sounded as if the thing was about to crash through, a silence came instead.

I pressed my ear to the wood, holding my breath to hear the slightest indication of something on the other side. After waiting for what seemed like long enough, I stepped away. I almost opened the door again, but a second thought convinced me otherwise. Instead, realizing my phone light was still on, I used it to look around. The first thing I noticed was the circular room I was in, about fifteen feet in diameter. The second was my phone’s battery, which had dropped to nine percent. I would have turned it off right away if something on the wall hadn't caught my eye. 

There a mural of swirling designs formed odd shapes and menacing figures, despite appearing completely abstract. I followed the fresco until it culminated symmetrically across from the entrance. The patterns pointed down at a pedestal against the wall, with an indent carved into the top. I assumed it would have held some object or artifact, but there was nothing there. I searched the rest of the room, initially finding only dust and stone. Eventually, though, I discovered two familiar things, which at that moment had become truly terrifying. 

They were a pair of shoes, which as my light traveled upwards, I saw was attached to none other than Marie in the now open doorway. Dried blood plastered her face, and both her clothes and hair were caked with mud. Her eyes burned, seeming to make my light obsolete, and a kitchen knife was still clutched in her hand.

“Of course, you’re here,” she croaked out.

With a cry, she prepared to lunge at me, but something stopped her. In the tunnel behind, the heavy dragging had returned, and Marie turned to face it. It grew louder as it filled the chamber, and right before its source appeared, my phone died. A symphony of screams followed, both human and not, that I cannot recall without shuddering. I did not feel anything, but from what it sounded like, Marie would soon be no more.  

Sure enough, the screaming stopped, but it did not yield to silence as whatever the thing was slithered around. I stood as still and quiet as possible, praying it would leave and that I would finally be able to as well. This was proven useless, with something rough touching my leg before latching on in an instant. I soon felt my entire body immersed in this texture, no matter how much I fought. I wondered how long I would be able to stay conscious before finally being consumed.

I awoke to a lack of oxygen, and something still surrounding me, which I quickly realized was water. I saw the reassuring light of the moon above me and swam up, breaching the surface of the lake. After coughing up more water than I thought my lungs could hold I saw my surroundings, including the lakeside cave now crumbled, barring anyone else from entry.