The Cabin That Never Stood Still
Lina had chosen the cabin for its stillness.
After the divorce, she needed silence, an escape from the noise of the city, from the judgmental whispers, and especially from him. This house, hidden in the depths of an untouched forest, was perfect.
The first night, she slept peacefully for the first time in years. The sound of leaves rustling outside, the occasional hoot of an owl—it was everything she had craved.
But on the second night, something felt… off.
She awoke to a strange sensation, like the ground had shifted beneath her. The furniture was in place. The doors were locked. The forest outside was unchanged. Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had moved.
By the third night, she knew it wasn’t just in her head.
She left a cup on the kitchen counter before bed, but in the morning, it was on the dining table. A chair she had tucked in was now slightly pulled out. Her boots, which had been near the door, were now facing the other way.
It wasn’t ghosts—Lina didn’t believe in that. But she wasn’t alone.
Determined to prove it, she set up her phone to record overnight. When she woke up, the phone was still recording. She played it back. Hours of stillness. Then, at exactly 3:13 AM, the screen glitched.
And when it cleared—
The entire house had shifted.
Not the furniture. Not the doors. The house itself. The trees outside were in different positions. The deck, which had been facing the moonlight, now faced darkness. The whole cabin had moved.
Heart pounding, she ran outside, expecting to find evidence—tracks, something. But the soil was undisturbed. The cabin sat perfectly still, as if it had never moved at all.
Lina grabbed her phone, ready to call someone—anyone. But before she could dial, a notification popped up.
“System Update Installed: Location Recalibrated.”
She hadn’t installed any system.
She hadn’t chosen any recalibration.
And then, the final detail that made her drop the phone.
The time on her screen read 3:12 AM.
One minute before the cabin would move again.
