The Cabin That Never Forgets
Daniel had been searching for a quiet retreat when he found it.
A hidden cabin, tucked between towering trees. A little weathered, but still standing strong, with open doors and a warm glow inside.
It looked abandoned.
But it wasn’t.
The Names on the Walls
As he stepped inside, a comforting warmth surrounded him. The scent of aged wood filled the air.
The furniture was perfectly arranged, a cup sat on the counter, and the fireplace?
Still smoldering.
Like someone had just been here.
That’s when he saw them.
Carved deep into the wooden beams above the fireplace—hundreds of names.
Faded, some nearly unreadable.
He traced his fingers over them. The names stretched back decades.
Who were they? Why were they here?
Then he saw something else.
A small knife, resting on the mantel.
Still sharp.
The Name That Appeared
A sense of unease crept in.
Daniel turned to leave, but as he reached for the door, a sudden scratching sound filled the room.
He spun around.
The knife on the mantel was moving.
Carving something.
He stepped closer.
And there, right beneath the last name—
His own.
The wood groaned.
The fireplace flared up.
And from the shadows of the room—
Something shifted.
The House That Keeps Its Guests
Daniel ran.
He never looked back.
But weeks later, curiosity got the best of him. He searched online for the cabin’s history.
He found an old photo from 1952.
And in that photo, standing in the doorway—
Were people.
All staring.
And on the top beam?
The names.
The very last one?
Daniel.
And beneath it—
A space for one more.
Would you enter this cabin? Or leave before your name appears? Let me know in the comments!
