The Arrival

The van rumbled to a stop in front of a faded, weather-beaten sign. The wood was chipped, the letters barely visible under years of moss and grime. It read:

“Welcome to Nightfall Valley – Nature’s Untouched Gem.”

The four girls sat inside the vehicle, their breath fogging the windows as the rain finally let up. The trip had been long, the mountain road endless and winding.

Ana, always the most daring of the group, was the first to open the door. She stepped out, stretching. “Finally! This is going to be epic.”

Adeline, the more logical and grounded one, stepped out behind her. She scanned the darkened woods ahead, her brow furrowed. “It’s too quiet. Something about this place feels...off.”

Scarlett, the joker of the group, leaned against the van door with a grin. “Ooooh, spooky forest. Are we all gonna die in the first ten minutes, or do we get snacks first?”

Noelle, quiet and thoughtful, stood silently for a moment, looking into the trees. Her voice was soft. “It smells like something’s been buried here.”

Everyone paused at her words. Then Scarlett laughed. “Chill, Edgar Allan Poe. Let’s find the cabin before the serial killer shows up.”

They grabbed their backpacks and started down the muddy trail. The path was narrow and half-eaten by overgrowth. The further they walked, the darker it became—even though it wasn’t even 5 PM. The canopy above swallowed the sky, and soon the only sounds were their boots squelching in the mud and the occasional snap of a distant branch.

“Where’s the wildlife?” Adeline muttered. “No birds. No bugs. No...anything.”

“Maybe they know something we don’t,” Ana replied with a smirk.

After almost forty minutes, the cabin finally came into view—a crooked wooden structure tucked between twisted trees. It looked like it hadn’t seen visitors in years. One shutter hung broken, flapping lightly. The windows were dusty. The porch creaked as they stepped onto it.

“This place smells like old socks and death,” Scarlett said, pinching her nose.

Inside, the air was thick and cold. Cobwebs clung to every corner. The fireplace was filled with half-burnt logs, like someone had left in a hurry. The girls split up to explore, their boots echoing on the creaky wooden floor.

Adeline found a cracked mirror hanging in the hallway. As she passed it, she noticed something odd—her reflection lingered just a second too long.

Tensing, she stepped back. The reflection didn’t move.

Then it smirked.

She gasped and stumbled, knocking over a dusty lamp. The others came running.

“I swear the mirror—my reflection—it was wrong!” she said, her voice shaking.

Scarlett tried to joke. “Maybe you’ve got an evil twin trapped in glass. I always thought you had a twin.”

But when they looked, the mirror was just a mirror. Normal. Still. Unmoving.

Later that night, while unpacking in the kitchen, Ana found a note tucked behind a jar of salt. The paper was yellowed and brittle. The words were written in spidery, red ink:

“You shouldn’t have come.”

She showed it to the others, but none of them knew what to say. Noelle touched it and whispered, “This ink’s not dry.”

The cabin grew colder. The lights flickered once. Then again. Outside, the wind howled. A tree branch scratched against the window like fingernails.

None of them slept much that night.

And none of them noticed the small, smeared bloody handprint on the inside of the cabin door.

To Be Continued...

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