I’d hiked that trail dozens of times. I knew every curve, every tree, every landmark by heart. But that morning, something was different. Nestled between two pine-covered hills was a small wooden cabin weathered, silent, and completely out of place. I was sure it hadn’t been there before. Curiosity got the better of me. I approached cautiously, calling out. No answer. The door creaked open at my touch, revealing a dim interior thick with dust… and something else. On the table, there was a photo. Of me. Standing right where I was, outside the cabin.
A chill ran down my spine. I backed out, heart racing, only to find the forest around me had changed denser, unfamiliar. The trail was gone. Trees leaned in closer than they should. I turned to leave, but the cabin door slammed shut behind me, and the windows were now covered in black soot. When I checked the photo again, there was a new figure standing beside me tall, shadowed, with no face. The cabin may not have been there yesterday… but it had been waiting for me for a long time. Shutdown123