What Happened at Hillview House

The chill air rushed into my car as I unlocked the door, taking a step outside onto the open road. It was late, much later than I'd feared. I was sure I'd followed the directions exactly, but I thought to check them again anyway, just in case. Searching my pockets, I soon recovered that crumpled scrap of paper Katrina had given me. My eye wandered to the clock on the dashboard - barely one in the morning. I'd driven well over fifty miles looking for the spot she'd recommended. There was no way in hell I could have stayed the night at her place - Derrick knew where she lived. No doubt he'd go there after realizing I was gone.

I'd left in a hurry, with her directions scrunched up in my jacket. I sat huddled uncomfortably in my car for hours on end, following the back roads up the hillside, looking for one of those cabins set up for hikers.

How had I gotten so lost? I pulled my phone out - once again my lock screen was lit up in unread messages. Every time I blocked him, he got a new number. Whenever I changed mine, he'd somehow find me again. By some curse or miracle, I had no signal, and the battery wouldn't last five minutes. Perhaps I should have given up - spent the night in the car and carried on in the morning. And then, just as I sat back down, I saw the sign ahead - nailed to a tree. 'Hillview House.'

I grabbed my pack from the back seat, slung it over my shoulder, and locked up before heading on. Luckily I kept an emergency torch strapped to the bag - it wasn't bright, but it was enough to help find the trail.

Then a half hour of walking later, I started to question my choice. I didn't do much hiking, the hill was steeper than I thought, and my left leg was throbbing something awful from hours of sitting still. The sky turned grey as I climbed, the clouds threatening to split open and send a rainstorm my way.

Just keep going, I thought. Five more minutes... Then five turned into ten. I crossed a bridge over the stream. Ten turned to fifteen. Someone had set up stone blocks to act as stairs. I rested for a second, my chest aching, and my left leg feeling even worse. Fifteen turned to twenty, twenty to thirty, and the sky opened up. My hair lay soaked against my head. I groaned - as if things couldn't get any worse.

Finally, I reached the clearing. The path snaked ahead up to the cabin. My salvation. The kind of place I had been to on scout trips as a kid - its name spelled proudly on the wooden sign attached to it. 'Hillview House.'

The front door was kept locked, but there was a key behind one of those tiny lockers. Anyone who was a member of the trust who maintained them was emailed the codes to use them. I wasn't, but Katrina and her family were lifelong members. I checked the numbers on the corner of her note and punched them in, the key dropping into my hand. I turned it in the rusted lock, letting myself inside. I flicked the lights on.

It had only the bare minimum in terms of facilities. A couple of folding beds, a table and chairs, a wood-burning stove on the back wall, a little kitchen area, and a toilet without a sink. The door off the kitchen led to a narrow cupboard, with a few packs of bedding and towels with instructions for washing them for the next users. It smelled awful - other people's sweaty feet, and the residual stench of the septic tank coming up through the pipes.

I think it had been a while since it was last used, but it had been even longer since it was cleaned. Taking my things off at the door, I poured myself a glass of water and downed it before finding a damp, matted cloth to wipe my face. I'd need to get the stove lit if I wanted hot water and some food.

There was no television. No radio, or phone reception, or internet. Just me, the trees, and the thundering rain battering down on the roof. I stoked the fire and took out the lighter from my pack.

I was sure I heard something outside. Probably just a squirrel, I thought, but to be safe, I searched around the cupboards for anything I could use to defend myself. A frying pan seemed to be my best bet. Double checking that I'd indeed locked the door, I went around the cabin, shutting all the curtains.

I felt so vulnerable - no radio, no TV, no phone. Just me, alone. I hoped to God I hadn't made a mistake. What if Derrick really had found me, and followed me? My mind wandered, and my heart pounded. Somehow I held it together long enough to get a pan of water boiling over the stove, preparing my instant noodles. Nothing fancy, but when you move about a lot, you're always grateful for a quick meal that doesn't spoil. I let them cook, then ate them in silence, as the thunder rumbled overhead.

I thought of calling Katrina, or at least sending her a text. I should have let her know I'd found the cabin, and that I was safe... Then my doubts festered again. The walls groaned and creaked in the wind, and the rain poured in buckets down the windows.

I wrapped myself in one of the musty, moth-bitten blankets they provided, warming myself before the flames. The cupboards rattled, and the logs shifted in the fireplace. The whole cabin shook, still it wasn't the worst place I'd stayed in. I would be okay. Soon I would fall asleep - by morning the storm would have passed, and I'd be able to carry on my journey.

But as I sat there in the dark, the fear crept back in. I couldn't have imagined how worse things would get.

***

I awoke with a start. I'd managed to drift off for a bit even with the cold biting at my ankles, yet I'd woken suddenly with my heart hammering against my ribs. My body seized up. Shaking, I turned my phone on again, daring to waste the last of the battery to check the time. It had only been an hour.

I knew something was outside. My thoughts kidded themselves with the idea it was simply a deer or a fox, but I knew those footsteps anywhere. I'd learned to recognise them, to dread them. As my breaths shortened, it scratched at the window over my bed. Then it moved, rattling the door handle. How the hell had he found me? I crept out of bed, as slowly as I could so it wouldn't creak. The lights were off but the fire was still lit. I dreaded to imagine that he wouldn't have known where to find me if I'd remembered to douse it.

I waited, led on the floor with my hands wrapped around the handle of the pan I'd set under there. My gaze snapped to the angled bed frame, cursing as to why the owners had decided to set up cots no one could hide under. Why wasn't there a closet, a back exit - anything I could have used to get away from him? I took a deep breath, bracing myself. If he broke through that door, there'd be nowhere to run.

I squeezed my eyes shut, listening to the rain and his scratching all over the cabin. I couldn't even shout for help - there was no one around for miles. Instead I would have to wait it out, praying for him to leave. He crept over the roof, along the back wall, clawing at the window behind me.

"Let me in..." He hissed. His voice was different - distorted and scraping up from his throat.

He was all around me, trapping me in his cage, walling me in. I shakily tapped the emergency number into my phone. It rang... Once... Twice... The battery died. While I fought to stay quiet, I couldn't do anything to muffle the shriek shivering up my chest. I crawled into the corner behind the bed, throwing my blanket over my head.

"I can hear you..." He muttered, tapping on the glass, turning the door handle this way and that, as if circling around the cabin. "I can smell you..." I choked on my breaths as he called out. It wasn't the same man I'd loved, or the man I feared. As chills shocked up my back I knew there was nothing left of him that was human. And as much as I wished to scream at him, to scare him away, all I could manage were tears. My stomach turned. I thought about the weapon I had - the only thing holding me together was the thought that maybe I could hurt him first, that I could make him bleed.

He fell silent for a moment... "LET ME IN!" He roared, throwing himself at the door. "I'LL RIP YOU TO PIECES!" The wood buckled, snapping, splintering. There was no escape. There never had been. I would die there, in the middle of nowhere, all alone. My face would be splattered over missing posters for miles around. They'd search for me, but no one would ever find me. He wouldn't leave them anything to find.

He howled, shaking the whole cabin as he brought down the door. I covered my ears with my hands, fighting to breathe, waiting for the hinges to break.

The window above me shattered, showering me with glass. As I scrambled away into the middle of the room, a monstrous, grey hand reached in, stabbing its claws into the blanket I'd hidden beneath. He released it, pulling his arm away, and smashing the window over my bed. I didn't know what else to do. His face loomed behind the slashed curtains - blood-red eyes, fangs dripping. I threw myself forward, smashing the pan down on his hand with all my might. The bones shattered - he yowled like a wounded animal.

Before I could catch my breath, he tore through the door, the splinters exploding into the room and shredding the skin on my arm. The air was knocked out of me as I hit the ground. He fell onto all fours, and I saw him for what he had become - a grey monstrosity, a face full of dagger teeth and furious eyes, black threads of hair fracturing his features in the darkness, a heaving fury of muscle and madness. Blood spilled from the open wound on his wrist, his fingers useless and shattered. But even so, he went to grab me. His other arm swung around, wrapping its long fingers around my ankle, digging his claws into my skin. My arms and legs skidded over the wooden floor, my fingernails failing to find a grip on the grain. I reached out, grabbing the leg of the stove. It burned, but I had nothing else. If I let go he'd kill me.

I realised I'd dropped my weapon when he'd attacked. Kicking and screaming, I fought him with all the strength I had. I couldn't stand the blisters on my palm any longer. So I grabbed the only other thing I could reach. I wrapped my hands around the pot still simmering on the stove, whipped myself around, and spun it into the side of his head. The boiling water scalded my legs and feet, yet he released me. I found a better grip, stood sharply, and as he screeched I hit him again. The impact rattled through me. Gasping, I only saw that his head was still up off the floor. Taking the pot over my shoulder, I put whatever I had left into my final strike. His skull crunched beneath me, blood splattered my face, and finally, he was down.

I waited a few seconds, gulping back air as I surveyed the damage. I was covered in burns. I stood there, my head spinning and my heart fighting to keep me alive. The stench of blood hung thick in the air, stinging in the back of my throat. I should have been sick, or fainted, or at least fallen to my knees. My vision darkened, my limbs weakening with each moment. Yet I did not fall. I let the pot clatter to the floor.

My eyes wandered over his body. He was no longer a monster, rather simply a frail, broken human - with the back of his skull caved in, replaced only with a mess of blood and hair. The air fell silent to me, with just the thudding of my own pulse ringing out in my ears. I suppose I was in shock - numb to everything going on.

Without thinking, I crept over him, grabbed my things, shakily stepped into my boots, and walked out the door. The rain washed the glass and blood out of my hair and face, the chill easing my burns.

I don't know how long I walked for, but downhill was much easier to navigate, and I soon found my car again. Derrick had parked his in front of mine - the doors left unlocked, and the keys still inside. Though I wasn't planning on taking it, I did think to take the charger he kept in the glove compartment, leaving the car abandoned.

I unlocked my own, sitting myself on the driver's side as I plugged my phone in. The screen lit up, to the image of a dead, red battery. I still wouldn't be able to use it for a bit, but I knew exactly who I would call as soon as I could.

As the engine grumbled to life, I strapped myself in, and drove off - back the way I came. My only thought was of Katrina, telling myself to ignore all that I'd seen and done. Although my heart refused to calm itself, and the blood and blisters on my skin were an ever-present reminder. But as I drove away, leaving the woods behind me, I sighed into my seat. That horrible chapter of my life was over, I was free.

I was returning to civilisation, back to normality, my own life... And then I saw the headlights behind me.