My wife and I spent the night in a cabin, but something strange happened. [Part 1]

The trip was a surprise anniversary present from my wife. The holidays had been busy, so we figured what better way to start the new year than in a cabin in the West Virginia woods.
My wife had found the place online. It was a newly renovated property right at the edge of a wildlife sanctuary?somewhere we could go to get away from the hustle of DC. A recent storm had just blown through the Mid-Atlantic, so snow still blanketed the ground. Out here in the sticks, the backroads had yet to be plowed, so I carefully maneuvered our vehicle down the gravel paths.
?Wow, it?s beautiful,? I said to my wife as I pulled up the cabin?s narrow driveway. Trees surrounded the property, branches and trunks glistening with ice.
?I told you,? she said gleefully. ?It looks even better in person.? The house sat at the top of a small hill so that it overlooked the wintery landscape surrounding it. Large windows adorned one side, and an expansive patio wrapped around the structure. It was raised off the ground, an impressive set of wooden steps leading up to the front door.
?It even has a fenced-in yard,? my wife said, ?so that Willow can play in the snow.? Willow, our three-year-old labradoodle, adored the snow, and a fenced-in yard meant she could be outside without me or my wife freezing in the winter weather.
?It?s perfect,? I said as I put the car in park. I leaned over the center console and kissed my wife. ?Thanks for such a wonderful present. It?s going to be a great weekend.?
It only took a few minutes to bring our things inside. The interior of the home was just as beautiful as the exterior. Plush rugs dotted the solid wood flooring, and modern light fixtures hung from the ceiling.
The cabin was small, but it was enough for the three of us. The main bedroom branched off to the right of the entryway, which lit up automatically when we stepped through the door. To the left stood the rest of the home. It was an open concept, with the dining room and kitchen flowing into the living room and door to the backyard.
I set our bags down in the foyer and walked through the home, taking in the rustic yet contemporary design. My wife followed close behind, Willow?s leash in hand. I crossed through the living room and opened the curtains to get a look of the backyard.
I heard a jingle behind me and suddenly Willow was at my legs, already eager to get outside. I laughed then unlocked the backdoor. Willow bolted outside but didn?t immediately go down the stairs. At first, I thought she was just hesitant of the snow-covered steps. I urged her to go down, but I realized she wasn?t staring at the steps?she was staring at something lower. I couldn?t see from my angle, so I poked my head out the door to see what it was, but there was nothing there; it was just the steps and the side of the house.
?Go on,? I prompted Willow, but she wouldn?t move. She just kept staring at the side of the house. Impatient in the cold, I nudged her back legs until she eventually ran down the steps.
?I took the bags into the bedroom,? my wife called from the kitchen. ?You should go check it out. The bed?s enormous, and the view?s great.? I told her to keep an eye on Willow then headed toward the bedroom.
The bedroom door led into a small hallway which then opened into the rest of the space. The king bed faced a set of double windows, which provided an almost uninterrupted view of the forest beyond. A small shed stood to the left of the window, only a few feet from the main house.
Because the house was raised, I could just make out the top of the shed. I was about to turn around and head back into the kitchen when something caught my eye. A thin layer of snow covered the shed?s roof, and near the edge, right next to a tree, looked like a small set of footprints.
?Isn?t it great?? my wife said, her sudden appearance making me jump. She stood in the doorway, the light from the entryway casting a long shadow into the bedroom.
?It is,? I said. ?These woods are amazing.? My wife smiled then walked to my side. ?Do you see those tracks?? I asked, pointing to the top of the shed. She squinted then nodded.
?Oh yeah,? she said, ?maybe a squirrel or something lives in that tree.?
?You think it?s a squirrel?? I asked. ?It looks too big to be a squirrel.? She shrugged then rested her head on my chest.
?Maybe a raccoon then??
I nodded but wasn?t convinced. A raccoon was closer in size, but the tracks still looked too big.
?Should we check on Willow?? my wife asked after a few minutes.
?You go ahead,? I said. ?I?m going to unpack in here.? She nodded then left the bedroom.
Grabbing our bags, I wheeled them over to the dresser and closet and began unpacking. We were only here for a few days, but I hated living out of a suitcase. Crouched over, I unzipped the luggage and started pulling out our clothes. I was about to open the dresser drawer when I heard a whisper behind me.
?What was that?? I asked, standing up and turning around to face the doorway. I expected to see my wife, but no one was there. The doorframe was empty, just the wall of the entryway staring back at me. I stood frozen in my spot, slowly looking around the room. I pressed the clothes against my chest, as if they could somehow protect me. I waited to hear the whispering again, but nothing came, just the wind outside and the creaks of the house.
Slowly, I opened the dresser drawer and placed the stack of clothes into it. I bent over to pull out more clothes when I heard the whispering again. This time, I snapped around, bringing myself to my full height. But again, the small hallway was empty. I was certain I?d heard a voice though?and not my wife?s. It had been high and raspy, like the person?s throat was raw.
I remained frozen for what felt like an eternity, but I didn?t hear anything else. Unsettled, I quickly made my way back to the living room. Rounding the corner, I saw my wife standing at the window with her back to me.
?Were you talking to me just now?? I asked, trying to stay calm. She turned around to face me.
?No,? she said, ?just watching Willow.?
?Did you have the radio on or something?? She looked at me quizzically then shook her head.
?Nope. Everything alright??
I bit the inside of my lip then nodded my head, a tad too aggressively.
?Just thought I heard something,? I said, making my way across the room. I rested my head on her shoulder and looked out at Willow.
We let her play outside for another few minutes before calling her back in. Like before, once she was at the bottom of the stairs, she stared at the side of the house instead of coming up. My wife had to call her three times before she eventually came.
We spent the rest of the evening playing games, eating dinner, and watching TV. Close to midnight, we decided to go to bed. After getting ready, we crawled under the blankets and my wife pulled up a show on her phone. Within a few minutes, I felt myself drifting off to sleep.
The next thing I knew, a soft thud woke me up. A jolt of panic ripped through me before I realized it was just Willow jumping down from the bed. Throwing the covers off, I followed Willow to the bedroom door. The entryway light bled in from underneath the door, so I closed my eyes before walking out. Blindly, I shuffled toward the backdoor, Willow right behind. As I placed my hand on the doorknob, Willow began to grow lightly at my feet. She?d peeked her head through the bottom of the curtain and was peering outside, staring at the darkened yard.
Goosebumps crawled across my arms, and I slowly lifted my hand from the doorknob to the light switch. I squinted to see outside, but I wasn?t wearing my glasses and couldn?t make out much. I scanned the yard but could only see the soft outline of trees and the small scattering of chairs that surrounded a fireplace in the back corner.
Willow let out another growl before releasing a clipped bark. She almost never barked at home?and it was only ever at people. My heart thumped against my chest as I pressed my face right up to the small pane of glass set in the door.
With a flick of my wrist, I turned on the porch lamp. Bright light instantly flooded the yard, and I scanned for any motion, any sign that someone was there. Nothing moved, and I almost let myself relax.
Then I saw it and my blood ran cold.
There, in the back of the yard, something sat atop one of the chairs. The trees cast long shadows over that part of the yard, but something was definitely there, a solid mass atop the chair farthest from the house. It looked to be about three feet tall, but without my glasses, I couldn?t make out any more details.
Cursing, I ran back to the bedroom. The sudden commotion set Willow into a barking fit as my feet slammed across the floor. In just a few seconds, I?d made it to our room and was scrambling for my glasses on my nightstand. My hands met cool metal, and I grabbed the glasses as I ran back toward the window.
Jamming the glasses onto my face, I nearly slammed into the door as I peered through the pane again. Immediately, my eyes found the chair. There, resting atop it, was a thick piece of firewood. I stared at it, as if my attention would suddenly reveal what it had been.
Had that firewood been there all day? Had I seen it when I?d let Willow out before?
I was ripped from my thoughts by my wife stumbling out of our room, shouting my name and asking what was going on. I told her what had happened: that Willow had woken me up to go outside, that she?d started to growl, that I?d seen something or someone in the chair, and that I?d run into our room to get my glasses.
She peered out the window before letting out a sigh and telling me it was a piece of wood. I agreed with her and apologized for having woken her up. Something was off about the scene, but I couldn?t figure out what, so we let Willow out and watched her together, me keeping a close eye on the area around the fireplace. After a minute or so, she came back inside and all three of us went back to bed.
For the next few hours, I still couldn?t sleep; something still bothered me. I tried to shut off my brain, but it kept working at some unseen problem that was just below the surface.
I was just about to drift off when I realized what had been bothering me?there hadn?t been any snow on top of the firewood. All the other chairs had an inch or so of snow dusting their tops, but the wood had been absolutely clean, which meant it couldn?t have been there when the snow had been falling just a day earlier. Either the log had been placed on the chair the day we got to the cabin, or someone had been sitting there and had used the log as a replacement when I?d run to grab my glasses.
A few moments later, a second realization hit me: when I?d gotten out of bed to take Willow outside, the light in the entryway had been on. Neither of us had stepped into the foyer yet, which meant someone else had triggered the light?someone else had been outside of our bedroom door.


Source.