Into the Witch’s Den

Jack’s POV

As we all hopped on our bicycles and started pedalling in the direction of the witch's cabin, the weight of the situation pressed down on me harder with each passing second. The air felt colder, the sky darker than it should have been at this time of day. Every sound in the woods seemed amplified, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching us. Something much darker than we had ever anticipated.

But we had no choice. We had to find Suzan.

The forest path was winding, narrow, and overgrown with wild vines. The trees towered over us, their branches twisted and gnarled, as if they were hiding secrets in their shadows. It felt like we were riding deeper into a nightmare, each turn taking us further from the safety of our homes and into the unknown. I tried to push the fear down, focusing on the task at hand. Suzan was out there—alone—and we were the only ones who could help her.

Beth kept glancing over her shoulder, her face tense and full of worry. “Do you think we’re getting close?” she asked, her voice barely audible over the sound of our tires crunching on the gravel.

“I don’t know,” I replied, my voice tight. “But we can’t turn back now.”

Simon, ever the skeptic, was riding ahead of us, his expression unreadable. He didn’t speak much during the ride, and I could tell he was still hesitant about everything. But he wasn’t backing down either, and that gave me some hope. If we were going to face whatever was waiting for us at that cabin, we needed to stick together.

The path seemed to stretch on forever, and the deeper we went into the woods, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing up, and the unease in my chest was growing by the second. My mind kept drifting back to last night—the way Suzan had looked when I saw her walking alone down the street. Something hadn’t felt right about that moment, and now I couldn’t stop wondering if I’d seen something—or someone—else entirely.

“Hold on,” Simon called out, braking suddenly. We all slowed to a stop.

I glanced around, confused. “What’s up?”

He pointed ahead, his face pale. “We’re here.”

There it was. The witch’s cabin. The dilapidated shack I had heard so much about. It stood in the clearing, hidden between the trees, its roof sagging and windows covered in grime. The air around it was thick, heavy with a sense of foreboding that made my stomach churn.

We were here. And there was no turning back now.

We dismounted our bikes, each of us feeling the weight of what we were about to do. Beth reached out to grab my arm, her grip tight. “Are you sure about this, Jack? We don’t know what’s in there. We don’t know what we’re up against.”

I swallowed hard, staring at the cabin. “We don’t have a choice. Suzan’s in there. We’re getting her back.”

I took a step forward, the others following close behind. As we approached the cabin, the sense of dread grew stronger. It felt like the world had gone still, like time itself was holding its breath when Simon took a step back.

“Wait,” he whispered. “Before we just walk up to the door without knowing what we’re up against, let’s just throw a rock at it first.”

Beth whipped her head toward him, eyes wide. “And disturb whatever’s inside so it can come out and kill us? Are you crazy?” she hissed.

“We need to know what’s in there!” Simon argued, keeping his voice low. “What if it’s empty? What if—”

Before he could finish, the door suddenly flew open with a deafening BANG!

The force sent dust and leaves flying into the air, and in that instant, everything went still. A cold, suffocating presence filled the space around us, making my breath hitch.

Then—

A shriek tore through the silence as Simon was yanked off his feet.

Something unseen had grabbed him by the hair, dragging him toward the cabin. He kicked and flailed, his screams splitting the air as we lunged forward to grab him, but the force was too strong.

“HELP ME!” Simon’s terrified voice echoed as he was pulled inside, the door slamming shut behind him with a final, chilling THUD.

Silence.

Beth and I stood frozen, our hearts pounding so loudly I swore the whole forest could hear.

Simon was gone.

Beth fell to her knees, her hands covering her mouth as tears streamed down her face. She was shaking, her breaths coming out in ragged gasps. I knelt beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder, trying to ground her.

“Don’t give up, Beth,” I said firmly. “We will get him back.”

“With what?” she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. She wiped at her face, her fingers trembling. “Did you even see what took him? She was fast, Jack. How are we supposed to beat her?”

She paused, staring at the ground, lost in helplessness.

I swallowed hard and quickly scanned the area. There had to be something we could use—anything to defend ourselves. But all I saw were sticks, scattered across the dirt like pathetic excuses for weapons. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

I ran over, grabbing as many as I could, and rushed back to Beth. “Here,” I said, thrusting them toward her.

She stared at me, her tear-streaked face twisted in disbelief. “You want u-us to fight with sticks, Jack?” she stammered, shaking her head as if I had lost my mind.

I sighed, pushing the sticks toward her again. “It’s better than nothing. Take it. We have to try.”

For a moment, Beth just stared at the dirt, her shoulders rising and falling with each unsteady breath. Then, hesitantly, she reached out and took one.

I helped her off the ground, gripping my own stick tightly. My heart was racing, but I couldn’t afford to be scared. Not now.

Together, we stepped toward the cabin.

Every inch of my body screamed at me to turn around, to run, but I shoved that feeling down. Simon was in there. Suzan was in there.

We had no choice.

I reached for the door, my fingers trembling as I pushed it open. The creak of the hinges echoed through the trees, a slow, agonizing sound that sent a chill crawling up my spine.

Inside, the air was thick with dust, stale and unmoving, as if the place had been sealed away from time itself. The floor was littered with debris, old wooden planks warped from years of decay.

Strange symbols covered the walls, their jagged shapes illuminated by the dim flicker of a single candle resting on a crooked table. The shadows in the room seemed alive, shifting in unnatural ways, stretching and curling as if they were watching us.

Beth shuddered beside me. “Jack,” she whispered. “I don’t like this.”

I gripped my stick tighter. “Let’s go,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “We’re getting Suzan and Simon out of here.”

We stepped inside, our footsteps muffled by the thick layer of dust. The silence was suffocating, pressing down on us like a heavy weight.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that the witch was here.

Watching.

Waiting.

And she wasn’t going to let us leave.