​Maria, a petite woman whose sharp features contrasted with her heart of gold, had known Kati since their vibrant high school days. They had been inseparable, bound together by shared secrets and dreams that wove their lives like a rich tapestry. When the first spirit visited Kati, she confided in no one but Maria, her trust unwavering. Yet, Maria observed her best friend with a growing sense of worry. Over the weeks, Kati's once vivacious spirit had been slowly dimming, like a candle flickering in a draft. The memory of Kati’s infectious laughter and her bright, radiant smile, which could light up the dullest of days, now seemed like a distant echo, fading into the recesses of time.

"We need to pull her out of this slump," Maria said to her husband, Mike, her voice laced with an urgent plea. She had never seen her best friend, Kati, so withdrawn and distant before, and it weighed heavily on her heart.

Mike, a tall and solid man with a gentle soul and eyes that conveyed warmth, paused in the middle of packing his well-worn duffle bag. He turned to face Maria, concern etched deeply into his features. His brows knitted together, creating furrows that mirrored the anxiety he felt. "What can we do?" he asked, his voice resonating with genuine care for Kati's well-being.

Maria shook her head, her thoughts swirling like leaves caught in a gust of wind. "I don't know," she confessed, frustration mingling with her worry. "Has she told you what's troubling her?" Her eyes searched Mike's face for answers, hoping to unravel the mystery behind Kati's silence.

Mike's expression turned grave, his brows furrowing and lips pressing into a thin line, as he recalled Kati's recent conversations with him. "She mentioned feeling like something was missing in her life," he said, his voice tinged with concern. "But she wouldn't tell me any more than that." He paused, a flicker of realization crossing his face. "Maybe you can plan a girls' day out. Take her mind off things for a while."

"No, she shuts down every time I try to ask," Maria replied with a heavy sigh, her voice laced with frustration. Her hands moved briskly, folding T-shirts with precision. “Fold those T-shirts, Mike! Don’t just shove them into the bag.”

“Okay, miss perfection!" Mike chuckled, his laughter echoing softly in the room. "Who will see us in the woods to complain about my wrinkled clothes?” He stared into the distance for a moment, his eyes unfocused, deep in thought. "I know she hates camping, but suddenly, I’m getting this strong urge to take her with us… so strange," he mused aloud, his tone filled with a mix of curiosity and bewilderment.

"It’s strange indeed,” Maria said, casting a glance at her husband with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. “But I think that's a great idea," she agreed, her spirits lifting at the mere thought of the plan. The prospect of crisp, invigorating air and an escape from the relentless chaos of the city seemed like just the remedy they all needed. "I’ll call her," she decided, a note of determination in her voice.

Kati, though hesitant at first, reluctantly agreed. They arrived late on a Friday afternoon, the sun already dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. After parking their trailer amidst the towering pines, Mike extracted a hefty pile of firewood from the trunk and expertly constructed a campfire. The women busied themselves preparing sausages and potatoes, ready to be baked to a golden perfection, and assembled a fresh salad and a decadent dessert.

Kati settled by the crackling campfire, her feet resting comfortably on a sturdy log, while a thick, cozy blanket enveloped her shoulders. She had been hesitant to abandon the familiar comforts of her apartment and venture into the vast, rugged embrace of the mountains. Yet, the serene beauty of nature, with its whispering trees and gentle rustle of leaves, seemed to soothe her troubled mind, offering a balm to her soul.

The crisp, invigorating air filled her lungs as she stepped out of the car, the refreshing chill awakening her senses. She stood still for a moment, absorbing the breathtaking panorama of majestic mountains that embraced them on all sides. The lake, a mirror of liquid sapphire, shimmered under the sun's golden rays, casting a dance of light that seemed to speak directly to her soul. She couldn't help but feel a profound sense of tranquility envelop her like a gentle breeze.

"Wow, this is beautiful," Kati remarked, a genuine smile spreading across her face, lighting up her features for the first time in weeks with a warmth that had been long absent.

Maria's heart soared at her friend's reaction, a wave of optimism swelling within her as she hoped this trip would mend Kati's weary spirit. Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she replied with a wide grin, "I'm glad you like it. We have a lot planned for the weekend."

Kati raised an eyebrow in surprise, the expression of curiosity and intrigue dancing across her face. "Oh really? I thought we were just going to relax and enjoy nature," she said, her voice tinged with playful curiosity.

"Well, that too," Mike chimed in with a hearty chuckle, his voice a lighthearted melody as he unloaded their bags from the trunk of the car. The sun had begun to dip below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the campsite. "But we also have some fun activities planned," he added, a hint of excitement dancing in his eyes.

As they settled into their campsite, surrounded by towering pines whispering in the gentle breeze, Kati felt a profound sense of calmness envelop her. The earthy scent of the forest mingled with the crisp, cool air, creating a soothing balm for her senses. She hadn't realized how much she needed to disconnect from the cacophony of daily life until this very moment. Setting up their tents beneath the canopy of twinkling stars, she felt the weight of the world slowly lift from her shoulders, replaced by the serene embrace of nature's tranquility.

Maria and Mike were bustling around the campsite with the energy of a busy kitchen, preparing dinner under the fading light of dusk. They had brought enough food to feed an army, and Kati couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt for being such a burden on them. The camping area was enveloped in the rich aroma of roasting sausages and potatoes, mingling with the crisp scent of pine trees.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Maria called out warmly, her voice a gentle balm as she approached with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. "You look like you could use a pick-me-up." The mugs were wrapped in Maria's hands, and wisps of steam danced in the chilly evening air.

Kati managed a weak smile as she accepted the mug from Maria's outstretched hand. The mug was warm to the touch, and the hot chocolate felt like a soothing embrace as it slid down her throat, leaving a trace of sweetness. She watched as Maria rejoined Mike, their laughter and easy banter creating a light-hearted atmosphere that lifted Kati’s spirits, if only for a brief moment.

The mouthwatering scent of the meal wafted through the air, tantalizing Kati's senses and reminding her of her empty stomach. She picked at some salad, the crisp greens crunching softly between her teeth, trying her best to hide from her friends how little she was actually eating.

Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion crashed over Kati, enveloping her like a heavy blanket, and she yawned loudly, the sound echoing through the crisp evening air. "I think I'm going to turn in early tonight," she said, her voice tinged with apology.

"Don't worry about us," Mike replied warmly, flashing a reassuring smile. "We'll clean up and join you later."

As Kati retreated to the cozy confines of their trailer, a persistent, unsettling sensation crept over her, as if unseen eyes were peering at her from the shadowy depths of the encircling woods. She tried to banish the thought, convincing herself it was merely her imagination, as she climbed into the welcoming embrace of her bed and gently closed her eyes.

Yet sleep proved elusive, as the night came alive with eerie, dissonant sounds: the soft whisper of rustling leaves, the haunting call of hooting owls, and the distant, mournful howling that seemed to drift on the chill breeze. She tossed and turned beneath the covers, her mind restless and uneasy, as the hours stretched on interminably, until finally, she slipped into a fitful slumber.

The following morning unfolded in serene tranquility; the air was filled with the joyful melodies of birds as the sun slowly ascended over the majestic mountains, casting a warm glow on the landscape. Kati stepped out of the trailer, her body stretching and yawning as if waking from a long slumber. She took a deep breath, the fresh scent of pine and dew filling her lungs, and a contented smile spread across her face. Suddenly, the sharp cries of a baby pierced the peaceful morning, causing her breath to catch in her throat. She strained her ears, but the only sound that followed was the gentle rustling of leaves stirred by a soft breeze.

Throughout the day, Kati's stomach was a tangled knot of anxiety, though she tried to project an aura of calm. Her friend Maria, however, sensed the underlying tension and unease. "Is something troubling you? Are you alright?" Maria asked, her eyes filled with concern.

"Don't worry about me," Kati replied, attempting to reassure her friend with a brave smile. "I'm alright. It's just... I'll be okay."

Maria decided not to probe further, respecting Kati's need for space. Together, they spent the day by the river, casting lines into the water with hopes of a good catch and diving into its cool depths, letting the gentle current wash away their worries, if only for a while.

After a hearty dinner, they nestled themselves by the crackling fire, its warm, golden glow casting flickering shadows that danced across their faces and the surrounding trees. The soothing symphony of the forest wrapped around them like a gentle embrace: the whispering rustle of leaves stirred by the gentle breeze, the haunting, distant call of a night owl echoing through the tall, ancient trees, and the soft, rhythmic chirping of crickets harmonizing perfectly with the crackle of burning wood. The night air was refreshingly cool, infused with the earthy scent of the damp forest floor, and above them, the stars twinkled brilliantly like scattered diamonds strewn across a vast velvet sky.

“It’s so peaceful here,” Kati sighed, her voice barely above a whisper, as if not to disturb the tranquility. “I know you’ve been worried about me, and I love you for that,” she added, turning to look at Maria with gratitude in her eyes. “I wanted to tell you but… okay, I’ll tell you what’s been bothering me.” Her voice was a soft murmur, almost lost amidst the sounds of the night.
Understanding and compassion in her eyes, Maria silently wrapped her arms around her friend, offering warmth and comfort without the need for words.

“I’ve been searching for Amaya’s little girl,” Kati sobbed, her voice trembling with despair. “And I can’t find her.”

“Is… is she?” Maria asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid of the answer.

“Yes, both of them are dead,” Kati confirmed, her words heavy with sorrow. “The first time I saw Amaya's ghost was two weeks ago. She appeared to me, her ethereal form shimmering with an otherworldly glow, and showed me what was once a magnificent house, now reduced to a charred skeleton by a fire ignited by her husband’s hand. I could feel the oppressive weight of the tragedy that had befallen her, pressing down like a suffocating shroud. She had been searching for her baby, their once peaceful home now nothing more than a haunting, chaotic memory. Yet, she believes she’s been doomed to wander this earth, forever seeking her lost child, never to find her.”

“That’s terrible!” Mike whispered, his voice filled with shock and sympathy, but Maria silenced her husband with a stern look, her eyes conveying a mixture of caution and deep sorrow.

Kati continued, her voice quivering with emotion, “She could still see the unbridled fury blazing in her husband's eyes as he accused her of infidelity. His rage was a storm building within him, a tempest that finally erupted with devastating force, ending her life and that of their precious 3-month-old baby girl. Amaya had been powerless to shield her innocent child from her husband's wrath, and now, she is left to bear the unbearable agony of loss. She yearns desperately to cradle her child once more, to feel the warmth of her tiny body nestled in her arms. Yet, it’s all in vain, for she can’t find her baby.” Kati's tears flowed freely as she spoke.

Maria gently patted Kati's shoulder, her touch a soothing balm against the raw pain. “There, there,” she murmured softly. “Did you see Amaya’s ghost again?”

“Yes, I see her every day. She’s feeling a surge of anger and despair and lets out a mournful wail. It’s heartbreaking to see Amaya's translucent form floating through the charred remains, her eyes glimmering with grief and determination. The memory of acrid smoke and the feeling of the searing heat that had consumed her flesh is still vivid in her thoughts, but she is a ghost now, and the pain no longer affects her in the same way. But her soul is in agony. She told me she had heard whispers from other spirits that the baby's spirit lingers and moves from place to place, crying for her mother. With renewed hope, Amaya searches, calling out for her child in a voice that only the dead could hear. But as the hours turned into days, Amaya's hope began to dwindle. She could feel herself losing her grip on this world, the pull to the afterlife growing stronger with each passing day. But she refuses to leave without her baby.”

“Is there any way you could help her?” Maria cried out.

Kati clutched Maria’s hand tightly, her eyes wide and fixated on the lake shore. The moonlight cast a serene glow over the water, creating a silvery path that seemed to lead to another world. "Oh, they’re over there!” she whispered, her voice a mix of awe and emotion. “Amaya is holding her baby girl in her arms.” Kati sighed deeply, tears cascading down her cheeks like a gentle stream. “Amaya is smiling, showing me how her little girl urged Mike to invite me on this trip. She wanted me to know she’s at peace now. Oh, it’s so beautiful! They’re floating toward the brilliant light.”

Maria and Mike turned their heads in unison, their expressions a blend of curiosity and disbelief. Yet all they could see was the full moon’s shimmering reflection dancing on the water, its silvery beams weaving a tapestry of light across the lake's surface, enchanting yet elusive to them.

Mary and Michael enjoyed a peaceful life in their cozy countryside home. The spacious backyard and garden flourished under Michael's gardening skills and Mary's passion for nature. Their two large German Shepherds, Tucker and Hazel, took their job seriously, vigilantly overseeing the chickens, geese, and ducks that wandered freely in the expansive backyard and garden. Michael had been raising and training the two dogs since they were puppies, teaching them to patrol the property to ensure safety and protect their animals from predators, whether they walked on four legs or two.

Their neighbors were like-minded people, appreciating the uncomplicated and serene lifestyle their environment provided. No one was bothered by the early morning chatter of roosters or the lively songs of birds. The bleating of lambs and goats contributed to the natural symphony that welcomed them each day.

Mary sat on the porch, enjoying her morning coffee and the serene beauty around her, feeling thankful for the life they had created together. It was a stark contrast to the city's hustle and bustle, but it was their own slice of paradise, and they wouldn't trade it for anything. Michael soon joined her, carrying a plate of freshly baked scones. While enjoying their breakfast, they talked about what they would do for the day. They chose to spend the morning working in the vegetable garden and then enjoy a peaceful afternoon reading and unwinding under the shade of their prized walnut tree.

As the day progressed, Mary and Michael's tranquil life was unexpectedly interrupted by some unsettling news. Their neighbor, George, drove into their yard on his way to town and asked, "Have you noticed anything missing from your property recently?"

"No, why are you asking?"

"Well, five of my chickens vanished from the coop this morning, and Charlie said two of his were gone yesterday."

"It might be a stray fox or coyote. They're common predators around here," Mike suggested.
"I doubt it. I talked to Joe down the road, and he mentioned two of his ducks went missing without a trace the day before yesterday. I'm heading to town to discuss it with others. You coming?"

"Absolutely!" Mike replied enthusiastically, kicking off his gardening boots and stepping into his sneakers.

They drove into town and heard similar stories from other neighbors they met at the Pub.
“It can’t be a coyote or a fox. There weren’t any feathers or bloodstains around the henhouse,” one man said.

Another farmer added, “It’s like the birds just disappeared into thin air.”

A stocky man exclaimed, "One of my piglets disappeared three days ago, and I haven't heard a peep. Even my dogs were quiet all night, and those monsters usually wake me up a few times a night because a leaf falls off the tree or an owl hoots nearby."

George, while scratching his stubble, concluded, “Now that you mention it… My dogs were strangely quiet all night. It’s definitely a two-legged thief, and the dogs might even know who it is. We need to keep watch!”

Everyone was anxious and uneasy about these strange events, as nothing like this had ever happened in their peaceful community before.

When Michael got home, he sat on the porch with Mary telling her about what he learned in town. Just then, the mailman pulled into the yard with his small white car, and getting out, he walked up the steps and handed a stack of envelopes and newspaper to Michael. “Beautiful day,” he smiled.

“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” Mary asked.

“Thank you, but I have to go. Lots of mail to deliver,” the mailman turned and started walking down the steps. “Enjoy your afternoon.”

As he drove down the driveway, Hazel and Tucker followed the car. They usually followed every visitor’s car or truck until they reached the road and turned, but this time they stopped halfway. They stood looking down at something and Hazel let out a short bark. “Wonder what they’ve found,” Michael said and walked toward the dogs.

The dogs standing over a piece of raw meat drooled but didn’t touch it. They were trained to start eating only when they heard the command.

Michael picked up the meat and took it up to the porch where Mary sat, waiting to find out what the dogs found. “I bet this meat is spiked with something to make the dogs sleep,” Michael mused. “The neighbors said their dogs never barked the night their livestock went missing.”
“That dirty weasel!” Mary shouted. “So, he’s the thief!”  

“This is no proof, we have to catch him in the act. I'm going to stay awake tonight," Michael resolved.

“I’ll stay up with you,” Mary said, quickly forming a plan. “We’ll sit on the porch hidden by the rhododendron bushes. Tonight is the full moon, we’ll see if anyone comes to the property.”
“Sounds like a plan!” Michael smiled. “Let’s do it.”

That evening, Mary and Michael settled on their porch, Tucker and Hazel lying at their feet. To fend off the cool night air, they wrapped themselves in blankets, sipping hot tea from a thermos and nibbling on snacks. Meanwhile, the dogs remained vigilant, their sharp senses attuned to any potential threats in the air.

They sat quietly, their eyes scanning their surroundings. The idea of an intruder sneaking into their tranquil neighborhood and robbing their neighbors was disturbing. Hours slipped away without any hint of suspicious behavior. The only noises were the natural ones—crickets chirping, owls hooting, and leaves rustling every so often. Suddenly, Hazel perked up, sniffing the air and giving a gentle snort. Tucker rose, his fur bristling. Mike placed his hands on the dogs' heads to keep them quiet as they detected faint footsteps.

Michael kept a firm grip on the dogs, determined not to let them bark and reveal their hiding spot. The sound of footsteps intensified, and soon they saw the shadowy outline of a man pausing beneath the walnut tree. Mary and Michael exchanged anxious looks as the figure stepped into the moonlight, moving toward the fenced area where the henhouse and pigpen were located. "Hazel, Tucker, pay attention!" Michael whispered to the dogs, capturing their focus.

The dogs stood attentively in front of Michael, their eyes locked onto him as he softly commanded, "Track. Tackle. Hold. Go!" The dogs stealthily moved through the shadows of the flowerbeds toward the fence, where the man was struggling with the gate's lock. Just as he managed to unlock the gate and step through, Tucker sprang forward with incredible speed and brought him to the ground face down.

The man yelled in terror and attempted to crawl away, but Tucker pinned him down, growling, while Hazel bared her razor-sharp teeth just inches from his face. Paralyzed by fear, the man didn't dare move. Michael and Mary quickly approached with a flashlight, and when they illuminated the man's face.

"Well, would you look at that!" Michael remarked. “Mailman in the daytime and a chicken thief at night.”

"Wait, please, let me explain!" the man pleaded.

"There's no need for an explanation right now. We've caught you in the act," Michael stated firmly.

“But wait!” the mailman begged. “Paul, who owns a restaurant on Main Street, made me do it. You see, I lost a lot of money playing cards and borrowed from him, and he said I could pay him back in livestock. I had no choice.”

"So, Paul thought he could serve us our own livestock for dinner, huh?" Mary huffed. "I'm calling the police," she said, pulling her phone from her pocket.

Michael put his hand on Mary’s arm. "Hold on, don't call them just yet. We'll contact them in the morning, along with the neighbors. Everyone needs to know, and Paul has to pay for his crime."

"But..." Mary glanced at her husband, concern etched in her expression. Michael offered her a reassuring smile before addressing the dogs, who were fixated on him. "Tucker, Hazel, hold him!" he commanded.

Hazel sank onto her stomach inches from the man’s face, eyes locked on the thief, while Tucker stretched across the man's back, growling whenever he attempted to move.

"We should get some rest," Michael said, wrapping Mary in a hug. "He's not going anywhere, and we can still catch a few hours of sleep."

We tell spooky stories around a campfire because the flickering flames and the surrounding darkness stir an innate fear inside us. The wind whistles through the trees, and shadows move over the forest floor, prompting our imaginations to conjure up all the creatures that might be hiding at night. This is a way to confront our fears in a safe environment, surrounded by friends who feel the same unease. Sometimes, these stories carry a grain of truth, a whisper of something ancient and malevolent that still haunts these woods...

​The fire crackled and sparks flew in the dim light, casting a warm glow over the faces of the group huddling around it. The flames reached for the sky, providing much-needed heat against the chilly night air. Jack, Peter, the twin brothers Sam and Charlie, all in their late sixties, sat together by the fire with beers in their hands.

They had grown up in the same small town near the woods. After graduating, three of them moved away to start their adult lives in different states. Only Jack remained, marrying his high school sweetheart and starting his own construction business.

“Tell us a story, Jack,” Sam said. “Like in the good old times when we were young.”

“Yes, those were good times,” Jack sighed. “We were young and carefree. We all thought we could change the world.”

They sat deep in their thoughts for a while. The fire continued to crackle and pop as Jack's deep voice filled the silence. The group leaned closer, anticipating a good story. "My grandfather told me about the cabin after the Witherby brothers disappeared.”

“I remember!” Peter said. “The whole town was looking for them for weeks.”

“And they were never found,” Jack replied, poking at the fire with a stick. “That’s when my grandpa told me about the legend. He said that deep in these woods, there is a cabin. A cabin that holds secrets and mysteries beyond our understanding."

Sam's eyes widened with curiosity. "What kind of secrets?" he asked.

Jack's lips curved into a sad smile before continuing, "The legends say that anyone who finds this cabin and dares to enter will never return."

The group fell silent, the air seemed to chill with each passing moment and Jack's words hung in the air like a heavy fog.

"But...but that can't be true," Charlie stammered, breaking the tension. "People go hiking in these woods all the time and come back just fine."

Jack's expression displayed anxiety as he slowly replied, "That may be so, but those hikers didn’t search for the cabin."

Peter leaned forward, his hands gripping his knees tightly. "So, what happens to those who find it? Do they just disappear into thin air?"

Jack's gaze seemed to intensify as he spoke again. "Some say the cabin is a portal to another dimension, that’s why no bodies were ever found."

A chill ran down Sam's spine as he imagined himself stumbling upon this mysterious cabin and being trapped somewhere forever.

"Do you know where this cabin is?" Peter asked eagerly.

Jack's expression darkened at the question. "I do...and I have seen it with my own eyes. But I didn’t go inside," he paused for a moment before adding quietly. "And I will never lead anyone there."

"Why not?" Charlie asked.

"Because if the legend is true, once you enter that cabin, there is no turning back," Jack responded gravely.

The crackle of the fire seemed to intensify at this statement as if emphasizing the danger and mystery surrounding the mysterious cabin. The group sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, and a sense of unease settled over them.

Sam shivered and wondered if there was any truth to this legend and what secrets may lay hidden within the depths of the forest. His mind raced with questions and couldn't shake the feeling that they were not alone in these woods, that something was watching them from the shadows.

Suddenly, a loud crack echoed through the forest, causing all of them to jump. "What was that?" Charlie whispered, his voice trembling with fear.

"Probably just a fallen tree branch or an animal," Jack reassured them gruffly. But even he seemed a little on edge.

As if on cue, another loud noise rang out, followed by rustling in the bushes nearby. The group huddled closer to the fire, their eyes darting around.

Sam's heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the darkness for any glimpse of movement. "Maybe we should head back to town," he suggested nervously.

But before they could move, dark figures emerged from the shadows. As they got closer to the fire, the group saw them clearly. Just two old guys. Sam thought, relieved. The men's faces were weathered and wrinkled with age, their clothes tattered, and their long grey hair hung loosely around their shoulders.

The group was surprised by the sight of the disheveled old men, unsure of what to do or say.
"Are you lost?" Jack finally managed to ask, his voice shaking.

One of the old men let out a low chuckle that sent shivers down Jack's spine. “Nope, we know these woods, we live here, just like you.”

“I’ve never seen you before,” Jack said, frantically searching his mind.

"You kiddin' old man?” the taller man snorted, his voice sounding irritated. “Of course, you know us. I’m Paul Witherby, and this is my brother, Joe," he said in a raspy voice.

“You can’t be!” Jack shouted, his voice trembling, and he shrank back in shock. Thoughts began to swirl in his mind. Could it be… nah, it’s impossible! Could these old men be… Jack swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and asked as if he were talking to teenage boys, “What are you doing in the woods so late, boys?”

The man, who said he was Paul Witherby, gave him a sheepish look. “We… we went to find the cabin.”

“And did you find it?”

“We did,” Paul confessed. “We searched for the treasure, but there was nothing in there but dusty old junk, so we left.”

“Who are these men, Jack?” Sam whispered, tugging at Jack's shirt.

“I’m not sure yet,” Jack whispered back, keeping an eye on the brothers.

The brothers looked at Jack, astonished. “Can’t you recognize us?” Paul shouted.

“Do you know me?” asked Jack, forcing himself to stay calm.

“Of course I know you! You’re Jack’s father,” Paul shouted and leaned closer to his brother while keeping an eye on Jack. "Senile old fool," he whispered.

Joe snickered and glancing at the old twins, he said, "Paul, I didn't know Sam and Charlie had twin dads, did you?"

"What?" Paul stammered and turned his head to look at his brother. Suddenly, he took a deep breath and shouted, “Dad, when did you get here?” Then he frantically looked around. “Joe, where are you?”

Joe turned his head, and his jaw dropped. “I’m here, but where is Paul?” 

Sam's eyes were fixed on the brothers who stood there, stunned, staring at each other with a bewildered expression on their faces. Sam tugged at Jack's shirt and whispered, “What the hell is going on, Jack?”

Jack sighed and whispered back, “My grandfather said those who entered the cabin never returned. But these two must've been trapped in there for decades and somehow found their way back."

"So, you mean those..." Sam's shaky fingers pointed at the brothers.
​
Jack nodded. "Those men are the Witherby brothers. They were trapped in another dimension for fifty years, and they didn’t age until they left the cabin just a short time ago.”

The man's tears fell onto the dog's fur as he held his loyal companion.
It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision for the man to visit the animal shelter that day. He had been feeling particularly low and thought that spending some time with animals might help lift his spirits. As soon as he walked into the shelter, he was greeted by a cacophony of barks and meows.

But then he saw the dog sitting quietly in its kennel, looking up at him with soulful eyes. He felt an instant connection with the dog. He knew right then that he had to adopt it, but at first, he was hesitant. He didn't know much about caring for dogs, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to handle the responsibility. But the shelter staff assured him that Pepper was gentle and easygoing, perfect for someone looking for emotional support. So, after filling out all the necessary paperwork and undergoing a brief home check, the man brought home his new best friend.

In the beginning, it was a bit of an adjustment for both of them. The dog, who had spent most of its days in a shelter, was now being introduced to a warm and loving home for the first time in its life. And the man was learning how to take care of this beautiful creature who seemed to sense his every emotion.

As days went by, their bond grew stronger as they got used to each other's routines and habits. The dog quickly became attuned to the man's mood, sensing when he needed comfort or when he just wanted some space.

Whenever the man felt overwhelmed with his depression or anxiety, he would turn to his dog for support. Pepper would rest its head on his lap or nuzzle against him until he calmed down. It was like having a constant source of love and understanding by his side. The man also found himself opening up more to the dog than anyone else in his life. He would tell the dog all his fears, worries, and doubts without any fear of being judged or pitied.

He remembered the time when he had lost his job and felt like his whole world was crashing down. He had sat on the couch, feeling defeated and hopeless, when the dog came and curled up next to him. Its warmth and presence were enough to make him feel better.

Then there was the time when his doctor tried to find the right medication to control his panic attacks, he had gone through a tough time. He cried himself to sleep every night, but the dog would lie next to him, offering silent support until he fell asleep. The man realized that the dog had been his emotional support long before it became an official therapy animal. Its natural instinct to offer comfort and love was exactly what he needed during those difficult times.

The bond between them only grew stronger with each passing day. The man found himself relying on the dog more than ever, not just for emotional support but also as a source of joy and happiness.

Together, they would go for walks in the park, play fetch in their backyard, or simply cuddle up on the couch watching TV. The man couldn't imagine his life without this furry friend who had brought so much love into it.

And as they continued their journey together, both man and dog knew that they had found something special in each other - a bond that could never be broken.

But now, as he sobbed into Pepper’s fur, he knew that their time together was limited. The vet had just given him the heartbreaking news that the dog's condition was terminal, and it would only be a matter of weeks before it passed away.

Through tears and sobs, the man whispered words of love and gratitude to the dog, thanking it for being there for him when no one else was. As they sat together in silence, their bond grew even stronger, knowing that they were both there for each other until the very end. As he wiped away his tears, the man made a promise to always be there for this loyal companion who had never left his side. And with that thought in mind, he hugged the dog tightly once again.
​
The man knew that no matter what happened in life, this dog would always hold a special place in his heart for being more than just a pet, but a true emotional support companion who had changed his life forever.

Nothing last forever. Time has a way of slipping through our fingers like grains of sand, each moment fleeting and precious. Cherish every laugh, every shared meal, every quiet moment spent together. Our beloved pets scampered around our feet, their playful energy a constant reminder of the joy found in simple moments. Though we can’t stop time from marching on, we could hold onto these moments tight, savoring them like rare treasures.

Margaret sat in her kitchen, staring out the window, feeling the weight of the empty house. It had been a month since her daughter Wendy had moved out after getting married. The silence was overwhelming, and Margaret felt lonely. She had been so used to having Wendy in the house with her, and now she was all alone.
​
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Margaret's heart leaped, hoping it might be her daughter coming for a surprise visit. But when she opened the door, there was a man in uniform with a package in his hands.

"Ma'am, I have a person-to-person delivery for you," he said, smiling. “You need to open the package as soon as possible.”

Margaret signed for the package and carried it inside. She carefully opened it, her hands trembling with excitement. She held her breath I awe when a soft-haired, cuddly St. Bernard puppy looked into her eyes. Margaret's heart melted as she picked up the little creature, feeling the small body’s warmth radiating through her hands.

On the puppy’s collar, there was a note in Wendy's handwriting: "To keep you company. Love, Wendy."

Margaret named the puppy Maci, which meant "little bear" in her native language. From that moment on, Margaret and Maci were inseparable. The affectionate little bear brought so much joy and love into her life that loneliness disappeared from her heart. They spent every minute together, playing, napping, and exploring the outside world. Margaret couldn't imagine her life without her little bear, and she was grateful for the unexpected gift of love from her daughter.
As Maci grew, so did the bond between her and Margaret. The St. Bernard grew into a gentle giant, always by her owner's side, ready to offer comfort and love whenever needed.

Maci loved taking naps on Margaret's lap or snuggling up close to her on the couch. And as she grew bigger and bigger, it seemed like she would never stop growing. By the time she was a year old, Maci had reached the size of a small lioness. But despite her size, she remained gentle and calm, never once showing any aggression toward anyone.

Margaret was proud of her fur baby and often boasted to her friends about what a great companion Maci was. She would tell them how the dog always knew when she needed some extra love and attention, how she could sense when Margaret wasn't feeling well and would stay by her side until she felt better.

One day, as they were out for their daily walk in the park, Margaret tripped and fell to the ground with a thud. She let out a cry of pain as she landed on her hip. But before Margaret could even think about getting up or calling for help, Maci was already by her side, offering her strong body for support.

"Thank you, sweet girl," Margaret said with tears in her eyes as she wrapped her arm around Maci's neck and carefully moved her legs. When she didn't feel pain, she held onto Maci and stood up. "I think I'm okay, I'll just a little sore for a few days," she murmured touching her hip. "I don't know what I would do without you," Margaret whispered to Maci as they walked home.
Maci may have been large, but in Margaret's heart, she was still that tiny puppy that had filled the emptiness in her home after Wendy had left. And with each passing day, their bond only grew stronger and stronger.

As Maci reached adult size, she became quite an attraction in their small town. Everyone loved her, and many would stop to pet her as she walked by with Margaret. But despite her size, Maci remained a gentle and calm dog. She never barked or showed aggression toward anyone, even when children pulled on her tail or tried to climb on her back.

Wendy would often ask about Maci whenever she called her mother. "How's Maci doing?"

"She's on the lazy side, you know, she naps a lot," Margaret would reply with a chuckle. "But I’m happy that she's such a quiet and good-natured dog. I would go insane if I had a constantly fidgeting, yapping Chihuahua like Mary.”

“Yes,” Wendy laughed. “I always wondered how that little menace could bark so loudly. His lungs must be the size of walnuts. Maci must be huge by now. She was four months old when I saw her, and she was already big.”

“Oh, yes. She's grown so huge, and I feel like instead of me walking her, she's taking me for walks," Margaret continued jokingly. "Sometimes when my legs hurt, I feel like I could just ride on her back as if she were a horse."

Wendy laughed at the thought of her petite mother riding on top of her giant dog. "As skinny as you are, she probably could give you a ride with ease," Wendy joked. "I miss you, Mom! I can hardly wait until next month to visit you."

"I miss you too! See you soon."
***
A week later, while watching a movie, Margaret heard footsteps and saw someone trying to peek through the curtains of the bay window. She straightened up on the sofa. Who could that be? She thought nervously when the footsteps were getting closer and closer to her front door. Her heart racing, she glanced at Maci, who slept soundly beside her on the sofa. As the doorknob began to turn and the door rattled, Margaret held her breath in fear.

She grabbed her phone and pressed 911. “Someone is breaking into my house, 19 Mulberry Street, and I’m alone,” she whispered into the phone in panic.

“I’m sending a patrol car right away. Stay on the phone,” the operator instructed.

Margaret put the phone next to her when suddenly, the door swung open, revealing a large man wearing a black mask. He had a knife in his hand and took a step toward the terrified old woman.

"What are you doing in my house? What do you want?" she whispered, trembling with fear.
"Where's your money?" growled the intruder. "Give it to me and I won't hurt you."

Countless thoughts raced through Margaret's mind as she cowered on the sofa. This man is going to kill me before the police get here. She grasped at the dog’s fur, who remained motionless, but Margaret noticed that Maci was watching the man under half-closed eyelids. She could feel the dog's muscles tensing as if she was getting ready to jump.

“It’s over there,” Margaret stammered pointing at the mantel. “I… I don’t have much, but it’s in there, in that red box.”

The man turned and walked to the mantel.

Maci slowly, without making a sound, got down from the sofa and reached the man with a few, soundless steps on the thick carpet. She stood behind the man, watching him.

The man reached for the red box, opened it, and jammed the handful of cash into his pocket with a grunt. “Where’s your jewelry?” he demanded, turning back, but took a frightened step backward hitting his shoulders on the mantel when he faced the huge dog. Maci opened her mouth showing two rows of teeth and let out a thunderous bark that vibrated through the house. The man shrunk back in fear. “Call this monster off!” he shouted.

Margaret stared at the trembling man and heard Maci’s throaty, threatening growl. “I wouldn’t move if I were you,” Margaret said, suddenly feeling safe and calm. She picked up her phone while keeping an eye on the man and her dog.

“Keep talking to him, ma’am. The patrol car will be there in a minute.” Margaret heard the voice of the operator. “Are you safe?”

“Oh, yes, I’m safe,” Margaret answered the operator’s question, chuckling softly. “My dog is holding the man hostage.”

Margaret watched as Maci stood motionless in front of the masked intruder until the man made a slight move. Then, the huge dog let out a deafening bark and with lightning speed, she jumped up and placed her enormous front paws on the man’s chest, her massive mouth open and lined with sharp teeth just inches from his face.

The man froze and whimpered in fright.
​
Margaret watched with satisfaction as the terrified intruder stood frozen. He seemed to be afraid to move a muscle, only his eyes darted between Maci and Margaret, begging for help.
As she heard the siren from the driveway and running footsteps, Margaret stood up, feeling a bit shaken but no longer scared as she watched her furry guardian keeping the man trapped. She snickered when she noticed the expanding wet spot on the front of the man’s pants, which was clear evidence of how terrified he was.

The gentle glow of the morning sun filtered through the moth-eaten curtains, dancing across Anna’s face and causing her to sneeze. She reached out lazily, pulling the covers up to her chin, savoring the warmth that enveloped her. For a blissful moment, she allowed herself to let go of all worries and simply bask in the comfort of her bed. But as the outside world began to creep in, reality nudged at her perfect moment, threatening to shatter it with its demands.
***
Before the war, they lived in a comfortable two-story house in bustling Budapest. Michael, with his strong build, worked as a railroad engineer while Anna, petite yet fierce, was employed as a skilled seamstress. Together they raised two bright and lively children - Sammy, a curious six-year-old with sandy blonde hair, and Barbara, a sweet four-year-old with big blue eyes. But then, their idyllic life was shattered. Michael was called to serve, and Anna spent her days hiding in the musty basement with their children, never knowing if each passing moment could be their last. The once vibrant city was now a shadow of its former self, fear and uncertainty filling every corner.

The grueling months of trying to stay alive took a toll on everyone. Looters quickly emptied the stores, offering food for jewelry and other valuables. The once friendly and helpful neighbors didn’t care for others anymore; they fought for every bite.

As the sun slowly rose on the desolate streets, Anna ventured out in search of anything edible to feed her starving children. The air was thick with the stench of decay and despair, and she felt a constant pang of fear gnawing at her insides.

Suddenly, she noticed her old neighbor across the street, sitting on the steps of his house, shoulders shaking as he sobbed uncontrollably. "They threw me out," he whimpered between gasping breaths. "My son said there's not enough food for us all, and I should just be on the street waiting to be hit by a bomb or jump under one of the tanks patrolling the streets. I have nowhere to go, maybe I should just…"

Hearing his words, Anna's heart ached with empathy. This man had always been kind to them, often surprising her children with small toys that brought joy to their difficult lives.

"There, there..." she consoled him gently, offering a comforting hug. "We don't have much ourselves, but you can stay with us."

While Anna went out in search of sustenance, John kept the children entertained with his animated storytelling. But when she returned with only a small sack of potatoes - exchanged for her last remaining possession, a simple ring - their future became even more uncertain.
"I don't have anything left," Anna cried tearfully. "What are we going to do now?"

John's voice was heavy with concern as he asked, "Have you heard anything from Michael?"
The woman shook her head, her eyes downcast. "Not since he left," she replied, her voice trembling. "I'm not even sure he's still alive."

Determination flickered across John's face as he made a decision. "I'll go over to my house tonight," he announced with conviction. "I was weak when I let him throw me out because I thought he was right. I lived a long life, and it was time for me to step out of the way. But you took me in and showed more kindness than my own flesh and blood. I'm going to beg him. If there is some of the gold I gave him, still left, he can't be so stone hearted to refuse to help your children."

But John's son had a heart of stone. His words reverberated in John’s mind like a sharp slap in the face. “Why are you still alive?” he shouted from behind the closed door, his voice laced with bitterness and resentment.

John could feel his heart clenched at the sound, knowing that their once close family had been torn apart.

“How could you be so cruel to your own father?” John's voice broke as he cried out in disbelief. His eyes were red and swollen from tears, his chest heaving with emotion. “I raised you and did everything I could for you. All I’m asking now is some of the gold I saved for hard times like this,” he begged, his voice cracking with desperation.

“That gold is mine! You’re old, you lived long enough. I have to feed my wife and kids.” His son’s voice was cold, unfeeling. “Why can’t you just do the right thing?”

John's heart ached as he shuffled across the deserted street, his sobs echoing through the empty buildings. He had never imagined that his own son would turn him away in his time of need. “My own son! My flesh and blood,” he whispered, tears streaming down his wrinkled cheeks.

Anna let the old man in through the back door and tried to console him. “We’ll get by, somehow,” she whispered, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

That night, they huddled close to each other in the dark basement, the air thick with fear and tension. They could hear explosions and gunfire outside, the sounds getting closer with each passing minute.

“That was very close,” Anna cried out in terror, hugging her children tightly to her chest.
“Momma, I’m scared!” Little Barbara screamed in fright as the building above them shook violently.

But despite their fear, they held onto each other tightly amidst the chaos of war raging outside.
“Shh…don’t be scared, munchkin, I’m here. We’ll be alright,” Anna cooed choking back her tears.
The bombing stopped around midnight, and the children fell into a restless sleep. Sammy trashed and whimpered in his sleep and Barbara clung to her mother.

John crept to the small, cloudy basement window at the first sign of dawn and looked out. “Anna!” he cried out. “My house…”

“What is it, John?” Anna asked, frightened.

“It’s gone! My house…the bomb that hit close last night,” the old man wept.

The streets were quiet when John went looking for his son and his family. He couldn’t find any sign of life, only rubble strewn around and a deep crater where the bomb hit the house. He searched for a long time, falling over broken bricks, and calling their names to no avail.

“They’re all dead,” he sobbed when giving up returned to Anna and her children. “The house he wanted so badly killed him.”

Just when all hope seemed lost, Anna's heart skipped a beat at the sound of a weak voice coming from the street and saw a crouched figure desperately trying to look inside. “Anna!” They heard a man’s voice. “Dear God, let them be alive.”

“Michael?” Anna jumped up and ran to the window. “Michael, is that you?”

“Yes, thank you, Lord! The children?”

“We’re all fine,” Anna sobbed, her heart bursting with joy. “I’ll open the back door,” she shouted and ran up the stairs.

As she hugged her husband tightly, Anna's breath caught in her throat when she noticed Michael's missing left arm. His uniform's sleeve hung empty, a painful reminder of the horrors of war. But in that moment of reunion and gratitude for their survival, it didn't matter - they were alive and together, and that was all that truly mattered.

“We were under attack and the medic couldn’t get there on time. He couldn’t save my arm…he had to cut it off and they discharged me,” he whispered.

“It doesn’t matter!” Anna cried out, smiling at him through tears. “You’re alive and you’re here. Come, the children will be so happy to see you.”

After they filled their stomachs with the food Michael had in his bag, they discussed the possibilities.

“The war is not going to end soon,” Michael said. “We have to leave the city.”

At those words, John's shoulders slumped, and sobs wracked his body. But deep down, he knew Michael was right - his family needed a place where they could truly be safe. A place where they wouldn't have to constantly fear for their lives.

John bowed his head and broke out in tears. “You’re right, Michael. Your family needs a safe place.”

“You’re coming with us,” Anna's voice wavered, but her determination was clear. “We’re now your family.”

With their meager belongings carefully packed into a hand-pulled wagon, they set out on their journey away from the city. The nights offered a brief respite, as they traveled quietly on foot with their children nestled atop the wagon, exhausted and believing this was all just a bad dream. But as dawn broke each day, reality set in once again.

The path ahead was treacherous - rocky terrain and winding roads leading them through thick forests and abandoned towns. They sought shelter wherever they could find it - under fallen tree branches or in dilapidated buildings, always on guard for any danger that may lurk nearby.
As they journeyed, they faced desperation at every turn - food was scarce and stores were closed, leaving them to scavenge what little sustenance they could find in the countryside. Each day brought new challenges and dangers, but they persevered with hopeful hearts set on finding a safe place for their family. The weight of uncertainty hung heavily in the air, but they held onto each other tightly, knowing that as long as they had each other, they could face whatever came their way.

Tucked away in the remote northeast corner of the country, they finally arrived at the small, mountainous village where Michael had spent his childhood. As they made their way through the quaint streets, curious faces peered out from behind curtains and doorways, watching their arrival with suspicion. When they came to a stop at the weathered gates of Michael's family home, six burly men charged towards them wielding pitchforks and axes.

"What business do you have here?" The man who appeared to be their leader barked, his stance defensive. "We don't need no strangers here. Move on!"

But Michael recognized his old classmate from school. "We're not strangers, Paul!" He called out. "It's me, Michael Varga. We were buddies back in elementary school. This is my parent's house."

There was a brief exchange of hushed whispers among the group of men before their leader spoke again. "We don't want you here, city boy! Especially now that you’re a cripple," He spat out the words with contempt. "You abandoned your hometown so stay out! We have enough mouths to feed as it is."

“What are we going to do?” Anna whispered, holding onto Michael’s arm. “We can’t fight them. They’re going to hurt us.”

“They’re hostile,” he whispered back. “My parents had a haunting lodge up in the mountain. We’ll find it.”

The small family was watched closely as they started moving, their steps heavy and hesitant. Michael took the lead, pulling the wagon with determination, while Anna and John pushed from behind with all their strength. Sammy and Barbara huddled together, whimpering softly as they clung to each other in fear, refusing to look at the group of men tracking their every move.

As the sun began to sink toward the horizon, casting an orange glow over the rugged landscape, they finally reached their destination - a decaying building with peeling paint and broken windows. The once vibrant garden that had been Michael's mother's pride and joy was now a tangle of overgrown weeds, a stark reminder of the passing of his beloved parents fifteen years ago. The air was thick with a sense of sadness and loss as they gazed upon the empty shell of what was once a thriving homestead.

They entered the small house in gratitude for the roof over their heads. The walls were weathered and cracked, with patches of peeling paint revealing the faded wood underneath. Outside, wild plants twisted and tangled around each other, a stark contrast to the once neatly cultivated garden.

Despite the wild overgrowth of vegetation surrounding the house, they still managed to find fruits, corn, and some vegetables that reseed themselves year after year.

“People in the village have probably forgotten about this place,” Anna pondered, her voice laced with unease. “Otherwise, they would’ve taken everything.”

Michael’s face grew serious as he replied, “Yes, more than likely...” He gently stroked his wife’s back. “And let’s keep it that way. This house is far enough from the village. They don’t need to know we’re here until we can learn more about the people who still live there. There are bad people everywhere, and I can’t protect you all with only one arm.” Tears welled up in his eyes as he thought of the danger they were in, but he quickly wiped them away and put on a brave face.

Anna wrapped her arms tightly around her husband, children, and the old man she learned to respect and love, tears streaming down her face. “We’ll get by,” she sobbed, holding onto her family.

Despite the harsh winter ahead, they persevered and were able to carefully pack away enough food to sustain them through the long months. Michael found the root cellar stocked with jars of pickled vegetables, bags of dried beans and lentils, and even some canned meats that Michael’s mother had wisely stowed away for emergencies. They also found hidden treasures in the basement. Bags of salt, sugar, and various spices would add flavor to their otherwise plain meals.

The children took part in the hard work and gathered wild berries in the woods with John. One day, they stumbled upon two scrawny hens and excitedly carried them home as if they were prized possessions.

“Mommy, mommy!” Sammy burst into the kitchen, his face beaming with pride. “Look what we found!”

“Oh, perhaps they ran away from the village,” Anna wondered.

“Or maybe they’re the grand chickens of my mom’s hen that escaped from the butcher knife when I was a kid.” Michael laughed.

Barbara eagerly chimed in, “Can we cook chicken soup?”

But Anna’s frown quickly put a halt to the little girl’s plans. “I think we better keep those hens,” she said thoughtfully. “They will lay eggs, and maybe I can use some corn flour to bake a cake for Christmas.” The mere thought of having something special to celebrate lifted everyone’s spirits and made all their hard work worth it.
***
Anna gazed at her husband lovingly. His chest was rising and falling in a steady rhythm as he lightly snored beside her. She smiled softly, thinking of all the struggles they had faced together - the rundown house with its leaking roof, the constant struggle to put enough food on the table for their growing children. But none of it could overpower the love she felt for her family. She knew they would get through this, as they always had before. With a sigh, she pushed aside the warm blanket, rose from the bed, and shivered when her bare feet touched the cold floor.

Reaching for her clothes, she quickly dressed, preparing herself for whatever challenges lay ahead. In the quiet of the kitchen, she took a moment to savor the peacefulness that surrounded her before beginning another day of hard work with unwavering determination.

As tears welled up in her eyes, she couldn’t help but think of her young children and husband, out in the forest every day collecting fallen branches in the snow to keep their home warm.

The fire was soon crackling in the wood stove, and Anna wasted no time in getting started on their usual breakfast: creamy grits. The smell of cooking corn filled the air as she stirred the pot with practiced hands. Despite the hardships they faced, she found solace in these small moments and felt grateful for the simple joys in life.

Suddenly, her heart started beating faster when she heard footsteps and stumping feet by the door. “It’s me.” She sighed in relief when she heard John’s voice.

“I didn’t hear you going out,” Anna said watching the old man as he dragged a small pine tree through the door.

“If my calculation is correct, today is Christmas Eve,” John smiled, his eyes misting over.

“Oh, John,” Anna hugged the old man.

John cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. “The war destroyed my family, but I still don’t know why, fate let me survive. Let’s make the best of the time I have left. The children need a Christmas tree to restore some normalcy in their lives.”

As the sun rose over the frosty forest, Sammy and Barbara eagerly put on their hats and gloves to venture out into the winter wonderland surrounding their home. They strode through the fresh snow, their breaths creating puffs of white in the crisp air, collecting pinecones along the way.

The children's excitement was contagious as they returned home, bringing their treasures with them to decorate the tree. With each pinecone, small apples, and cutout snowflakes from old paper placed carefully on the branches, they sang Christmas Carols with joy and enthusiasm. Meanwhile, Anna busied herself in the kitchen, the scent of warm spices and freshly baked rabbit, pumpkin, and potatoes filling the cozy house.

Finally, after dinner, the family gathered around to enjoy the long-awaited cake together. Each bite was savored; the sweetness of the treat matched only by the love shared between them.
When Christmas morning arrived, the children's eyes widened with delight at the sight of presents waiting for them under the tree. John had spent hours carving intricate animal figurines from softwood, while Michael had crafted snowshoes for them. And Anna, always resourceful, had discovered a bundle of wool yarn hidden away by her mother-in-law long ago, using it to knit cozy scarves and hats for her beloved children.

Although fate had thrown many life-altering challenges at them, they never lost hope for a better future.