The Cottage

All aspects of this story are fictional.

On a small mountain by a small village there was a house. The house at one point had been a small, two room cottage and was bought and sold as the years passed. After 50, 60 years of this rinse - and - repeat formula, the house was looking run-down. Fewer and fewer people bought the cottage, and sales declined until it was practically abandoned.

But one day, someone appeared in the house. No one knew how they got here, and reports of the house being bought appeared where there were no signs of them the day previous. As if the records had rewritten themselves. When did this happen, you may ask? All Hallow’s Eve.

The next day, October 31st, a pumpkin was put out. Carved like any other pumpkin, a smile and silly eyes to match. A candle was put inside, the wax dripping down the sides and onto the base of the pumpkin.

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As trick-or-treating started, an eerie green fog loosely hung around the building - barely distinguishable, yet noticeable all the same. People dared each other to go up to the door, to knock and say “Trick-or-treat!.” But it seemed as though no one had the courage to do so, and when the threats and dares were retaliated, teasing faded and stopped. No one dared go near this house.

Then, as suddenly as they had arrived, they disappeared without a trace. No one knew who they were, but the fog was gone and the pumpkin was too.

Life went on and soon no one remembered what had happened on that night. Until the next Halloween. Decorations were put out and on Halloween eve, the empty cottage was once again inhabited. The pumpkin reappeared, softer and more fragile than before, as if midway through decaying, and the fog settled thicker around the house this time - yet still, you could only notice the fog if you were looking for it.

Wallpaper peeled and the wooden steps were worn and cracked, as if years of trick-or-treaters had stained them with scuff marks of rubber soles. Window panes were dirty and stained, as if little fingers were pressed against them, peering inside - or outside, wanting to get out.

But none of that could have happened, as no one dared go near the cottage.

New decor was put up. A new pumpkin was out, with an unsetting leer, as if it knew what you were thinking.

From : Pexels

A scarecrow was added to the collection, leaning over the fence and leering at you, as if it could just walk down and chase you. And when you would stare at it for long enough, you would swear you saw it blink.

Again, no one dared go near this little cottage, and no one even dared speak about it.

The next day it was all gone.

Year after year, the cottage would appear and disappear every halloween, each time more and more grimy and run down, the pumpkins decaying and the new decor only piling on to the clutter.

One year, someone - a very dumb one - dared say something about the cottage, as all had done their best to ignore it.

On All Hallow’s Eve, a party began and people were chatting. One of them, the aforementioned dumb one, began to speak.

“You know what?! This cottage is stupid and we should take it down next year - everyone hates it!” Everyone else in the room was uncomfortable, as they tried their best to forget about the cottage. “And I say, tomorrow we go and burn it!” Yet still silence ensued this remark and everyone in the room was getting more and more uncomfortable as people left, as if to flee from the thoughts of the cottage. But no matter what they did, the thoughts chased them the whole day, though no one brought up the topic again.

The next morning he was gone. The next halloween there was a new decoration, looking oddly human, with glazed eyes and not-quite-fake-but-not-quite-real skin.

After this, no one dared speak out against the cottage. But one brave and curious soul tried to speak up for the cottage. But their words were spoken without real conviction. They, too, added to the collection - the cottage knew.

From then on, no one dared speak about the incident, or even write about it - nothing. All evidence from any standpoint was missing - yet it was there. Everyone knew it, but no one dared do a thing.

Until on it’s 100th occurrence, everyone decided to speak up.They were sick of the strange disappearances, sick of the fear they felt every year. They wanted to burn the cottage, they knew it was no match for the thousand people in residency.

“Wow, what a ghost town. I wonder who was originally here and what made them leave.” The amature scientist said, wishing he did not get separated from his group - on halloween at that!

“Woah! This cottage had over a thousand decorations! Why would someone come all the way out here to set up decorations for this cottage?” They wondered out loud. “And what is that smell?”

As they turned to leave, the faces all turned to him, watching him go down a path.