Have you ever been so incredibly frightened by a dream that you carry it with you? A dream so real, so chilling that, even after waking, months, years later, you still remember it? A dream so scary that it still brings a chill to your spine when thinking of it. I had a dream like that.
I grew up in rural Tennessee. We had rolling hills filled with dark woods all around our house. When I was younger, my cousins and I would play in these woods. Creating narratives and imaginary worlds. We would get so far from our house, so deep into the woods, that our parents yells for our return would go unheard. On different occasions, we have gotten so deep into the woods that we’ve found an old rusted car, a trail tree, and even old cabins. Coming across old cabins happened often. You’d come across a part of a chimney, or a wooden frame of a door, or a set of stairs going up to nowhere. There is one cabin in particular that always sticks out in my mind.
It was a spring day. Bright and sunny with a slight breeze. The honey suckles were blooming and the sweet scent was drifting through the trees. I had decided to go exploring in the woods by myself that day, always following the creek to find my way back. I had wondered the furthest into the woods that I had ever been before. I knew this because the creek now lay before me split into two parts. One going to the left, and the other going right. I had never been to the split before and was very excited to be this far along. I chose my way and continued to follow the creek. While walking, I kept my eyes low to the ground seeing my footsteps before they fell. Making sure to not step on a rock or tree branch and keeping an eye out for snakes. Rattlesnakes, Cotton Mouths, and Water Moccasin are just a few of the sneaky serpents that will be under your foot quicker than a chicken on a June Bug. Something moves in the brush ahead and that’s when I see It. Hidden behind trees and bushes waiting for me. Dreams and memories abandoned for unknown reasons under wooden beams. The excitement I felt was uncontrollable. I sprinted towards the cabin and already was basking in the jealousy my cousins will have felt for me finding this amazing abode. The cabin sunk into the earth almost as if it had been melted by time. No door or windows left upon it. Vines, bushes, and leaves coating the surfaces. I walked in through the front doorway. The hallway opened with a kitchen on the left. Cabinets yellowed with time. There was a wooden, round kitchen table with three wooden chairs. They all had the same ornate carving pattern on them. The counter tops were beige and shielded by pieces of rubble and dirt and leaves. An old yellow fridge sat in between pieces, its door hanging from a single hinge. I begin to walk further down the hallway, noticing more rooms. I pass a small room containing a white bookshelf, completely abandoned by all books. A mattress thrown against a wall slanted diagonally, and more wooden scraps than a carpenter would care to have. Adjacent from this room is a small bathroom with the toilet missing, sink rusted and the door lying on the floor. The whole room was pink. Not a cute fun pink that girls would like their room to be when they dream of castles and unicorns, but a Pepto Bismol, sickly pink. As I continued to the end of the hallway, there was one more room at the end. To my right, the room opened up into a large family room. A fireplace painted the far wall ahead of me with an orange floral print couch resting in front of it. Over me, a hole gaped at the top of the roof, exposing the tree canopy from above. The walls were grey, with vines stretching up to the exposed wooden beams and wrapping their green fingers around the splintered slats. To the right of the fireplace was a dark opening. At first glance, I thought it was another room. As I approached the shadowy entrance, my stomach began to get uneasy. A sinking dread feeling crept into my soul and began to whisper, “Leave! Leave now!”. I pushed those voices to the back part of my brain filing it away with the other thoughts that had felt unnecessary to me. The steps were wooden box steps leading up to a black second floor. “How exciting!” I thought. We had never found a cabin so complete, but especially a multi-level one. I headed up the steps. Right foot on the first step. Left foot on the second step. As I approached the third step, my brain rushed away from my body. In an instant I was at the top of the stairs. A dark room lay around me. Covered in shadows. Furniture just out of sight and pushed to the far sides of the room. Guarding the walls like soldiers, and hidden by the layer of darkness created by the house. I am walking around, but not intentionally. Not exploring anymore, but just walking. Aimlessly. Blank. Suddenly, I hear a noise behind me. A creak from a floorboard, perhaps. I whipped around to see what made the old timber moan, and that’s when I saw it. Razor Sharp and overweight, the axe hit me like a train. Like a heap of laundry, I rest on the floor. Blood covering my clothes and seeping from my mouth. I can see myself. An out of body experience, I believe they call it. Only me. In an old melting cabin. No one else in the room with me. No axe. Just my lifeless body in a dark abandoned room, vines slowly devouring my body in a fit of hunger. Forcing themselves around me and down my throat. Pulling me towards the ground where no one will ever find me.
“CREEEEEK”, the sound of the trees bending in the spring breeze brought me back to the second step of that dilapidated cabin. “Leave! Leave now!” screamed again in my head, but this time I listened, not wanting to see my disturbing dream prove true. I turned and ran back through the dark hallway afraid to look back, unsure of what I would see. An axe murderer? A ghost? Vines waiting to drag me to hell? Back through the front door I bolted, with much less enthusiasm and curiosity running through my veins. I made my way to the creek that had led me to this hell house, running along side it not slowing down until I approached the split, yet again. It is at this point when I finally stopped. I knew the house would no longer be in my sight. Too many heavy footsteps had passed between us. I put my hands on my knees and began to heave. Breath after breath, trying to bring air into my lungs. I slowly began to inhale at a steady pace. Taking in the sweet scent of the honey suckles. Listening to the groans of the trees. Feeling the breeze brush it’s fingers through my hair. I looked around and felt comfortable with my surroundings. “You were just being silly and paranoid”, I thought. “I will bring my cousins back to the cabin and show them what I found. I found it all on my own. I just spooked myself!” I thought, and laughed to myself. “How silly of me to be so scared of wood! Dead wood, making a dead house, with dead memories in it!” I said aloud. “SNAP” a tree branch broke behind me. I turned my head to see what had split the twig. Coming at me, eye level was a shiny, sharp, heavy axe.
And I woke up. I woke up in a cold sweat so bad my sheets had to be changed, but the cabin and the axe and the woods were all left behind in my dream. But that feeling. That deep, heavy, sinking feeling of dread and death and misery. That feeling continued into my waking hours. It followed me like a dark cloud for days. Even now, when I think of the dream, or the woods, or the old cabin, my heart hurts. And that image of myself lying on the cabin floor blanketed by blood and vines returns to my mind. Ready to prey on the next nights slumber.
submitted by /u/JessicaMac09
[link] [comments]Have you ever been so incredibly frightened by a dream that you carry it with you? A dream so real, so chilling that, even after waking, months, years later, you still remember it? A dream so scary that it still brings a chill to your spine when thinking of it. I had a dream like that. I grew up in rural Tennessee. We had rolling hills filled with dark woods all around our house. When I was younger, my cousins and I would play in these woods. Creating narratives and imaginary worlds. We would get so far from our house, so deep into the woods, that our parents yells for our return would go unheard. On different occasions, we have gotten so deep into the woods that we’ve found an old rusted car, a trail tree, and even old cabins. Coming across old cabins happened often. You’d come across a part of a chimney, or a wooden frame of a door, or a set of stairs going up to nowhere. There is one cabin in particular that always sticks out in my mind. It was a spring day. Bright and sunny with a slight breeze. The honey suckles were blooming and the sweet scent was drifting through the trees. I had decided to go exploring in the woods by myself that day, always following the creek to find my way back. I had wondered the furthest into the woods that I had ever been before. I knew this because the creek now lay before me split into two parts. One going to the left, and the other going right. I had never been to the split before and was very excited to be this far along. I chose my way and continued to follow the creek. While walking, I kept my eyes low to the ground seeing my footsteps before they fell. Making sure to not step on a rock or tree branch and keeping an eye out for snakes. Rattlesnakes, Cotton Mouths, and Water Moccasin are just a few of the sneaky serpents that will be under your foot quicker than a chicken on a June Bug. Something moves in the brush ahead and that’s when I see It. Hidden behind trees and bushes waiting for me. Dreams and memories abandoned for unknown reasons under wooden beams. The excitement I felt was uncontrollable. I sprinted towards the cabin and already was basking in the jealousy my cousins will have felt for me finding this amazing abode. The cabin sunk into the earth almost as if it had been melted by time. No door or windows left upon it. Vines, bushes, and leaves coating the surfaces. I walked in through the front doorway. The hallway opened with a kitchen on the left. Cabinets yellowed with time. There was a wooden, round kitchen table with three wooden chairs. They all had the same ornate carving pattern on them. The counter tops were beige and shielded by pieces of rubble and dirt and leaves. An old yellow fridge sat in between pieces, its door hanging from a single hinge. I begin to walk further down the hallway, noticing more rooms. I pass a small room containing a white bookshelf, completely abandoned by all books. A mattress thrown against a wall slanted diagonally, and more wooden scraps than a carpenter would care to have. Adjacent from this room is a small bathroom with the toilet missing, sink rusted and the door lying on the floor. The whole room was pink. Not a cute fun pink that girls would like their room to be when they dream of castles and unicorns, but a Pepto Bismol, sickly pink. As I continued to the end of the hallway, there was one more room at the end. To my right, the room opened up into a large family room. A fireplace painted the far wall ahead of me with an orange floral print couch resting in front of it. Over me, a hole gaped at the top of the roof, exposing the tree canopy from above. The walls were grey, with vines stretching up to the exposed wooden beams and wrapping their green fingers around the splintered slats. To the right of the fireplace was a dark opening. At first glance, I thought it was another room. As I approached the shadowy entrance, my stomach began to get uneasy. A sinking dread feeling crept into my soul and began to whisper, “Leave! Leave now!”. I pushed those voices to the back part of my brain filing it away with the other thoughts that had felt unnecessary to me. The steps were wooden box steps leading up to a black second floor. “How exciting!” I thought. We had never found a cabin so complete, but especially a multi-level one. I headed up the steps. Right foot on the first step. Left foot on the second step. As I approached the third step, my brain rushed away from my body. In an instant I was at the top of the stairs. A dark room lay around me. Covered in shadows. Furniture just out of sight and pushed to the far sides of the room. Guarding the walls like soldiers, and hidden by the layer of darkness created by the house. I am walking around, but not intentionally. Not exploring anymore, but just walking. Aimlessly. Blank. Suddenly, I hear a noise behind me. A creak from a floorboard, perhaps. I whipped around to see what made the old timber moan, and that’s when I saw it. Razor Sharp and overweight, the axe hit me like a train. Like a heap of laundry, I rest on the floor. Blood covering my clothes and seeping from my mouth. I can see myself. An out of body experience, I believe they call it. Only me. In an old melting cabin. No one else in the room with me. No axe. Just my lifeless body in a dark abandoned room, vines slowly devouring my body in a fit of hunger. Forcing themselves around me and down my throat. Pulling me towards the ground where no one will ever find me. “CREEEEEK”, the sound of the trees bending in the spring breeze brought me back to the second step of that dilapidated cabin. “Leave! Leave now!” screamed again in my head, but this time I listened, not wanting to see my disturbing dream prove true. I turned and ran back through the dark hallway afraid to look back, unsure of what I would see. An axe murderer? A ghost? Vines waiting to drag me to hell? Back through the front door I bolted, with much less enthusiasm and curiosity running through my veins. I made my way to the creek that had led me to this hell house, running along side it not slowing down until I approached the split, yet again. It is at this point when I finally stopped. I knew the house would no longer be in my sight. Too many heavy footsteps had passed between us. I put my hands on my knees and began to heave. Breath after breath, trying to bring air into my lungs. I slowly began to inhale at a steady pace. Taking in the sweet scent of the honey suckles. Listening to the groans of the trees. Feeling the breeze brush it’s fingers through my hair. I looked around and felt comfortable with my surroundings. “You were just being silly and paranoid”, I thought. “I will bring my cousins back to the cabin and show them what I found. I found it all on my own. I just spooked myself!” I thought, and laughed to myself. “How silly of me to be so scared of wood! Dead wood, making a dead house, with dead memories in it!” I said aloud. “SNAP” a tree branch broke behind me. I turned my head to see what had split the twig. Coming at me, eye level was a shiny, sharp, heavy axe. And I woke up. I woke up in a cold sweat so bad my sheets had to be changed, but the cabin and the axe and the woods were all left behind in my dream. But that feeling. That deep, heavy, sinking feeling of dread and death and misery. That feeling continued into my waking hours. It followed me like a dark cloud for days. Even now, when I think of the dream, or the woods, or the old cabin, my heart hurts. And that image of myself lying on the cabin floor blanketed by blood and vines returns to my mind. Ready to prey on the next nights slumber. submitted by /u/JessicaMac09 [link] [comments]
