Cinnamon and Honey

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Emily frowned at the flickering orange flame, a beacon against the dark tangle of oak trees.

"Something isn't right, Katie," Emily whispered. "No one ever mentioned there being candles in the cabin before."

Katie rolled her eyes and began carefully climbing down the sloped dirt toward the cabin. "Don't be a baby. Allison and Steph probably set some things up to try to scare us. The seniors do that to pledges all the time."

Emily scowled, and hoisting her backpack higher on her shoulders, climbed down after her roommate "I still think this is a stupid tradition. Whoever heard of having to spend the night in a creepy old cabin just to get into a sorority?"

They quickly reached the bottom of the slope and stood in a small clearing in the trees. The full moon above had so far rendered flashlights unnecessary.

Katie turned around abruptly, hands on her hips. “We both agreed that joining was a good idea. Remember how this is supposed to help us get jobs after graduation? And I think it’s totally worth it not to have to live in crusty old Wheeler for three more years. The sorority house is way nicer.” She turned and began walking toward the cabin. “If you’re going to be a downer all night you can leave.”

Emily took a deep breath, then set off after her friend. “I’m sorry. I still don’t like it, but you’re right. I’ll be better, okay?”

“Good,” Katie smiled over her shoulder. “Now come on. I’d rather spend the night inside than out.”

The pair crossed the clearing, eyeing the structure before them.The moonlight did little to brighten the small, dark cabin. There was no porch, just a simple flat face with a door and two windows set into it. The leftmost window was dark, but the right window showed the orange flame from a single candle. It gave off a soft, flickering glow that stood in stark contrast to the dark wooden exterior of the cabin in the woods.

Katie tested the door knob. It rattled slightly, but did not turn. Emily reached in her pocket and pulled out a large, slightly rusted key that Allison had given her earlier that day. It turned in the lock with a high-pitched groan before emitting a soft click. Katie pushed the door, which swung inward with a low creeeak.

The flame from the lone candle in the window cast odd, flickering shadows on the wall, but did little to illuminate the dark interior before them. The girls stepped inside and pulled out their flashlights, allowing the bright white beams to wander over their surroundings. The main room was small, about fifteen feet across in any direction. On the left side of the room was a simple rocking chair and a black, wood burning stove. On the right side of the room lay the remnants of a broken wooden table and several mounted, cracked shelves. On the opposite wall was an open doorway that led to another interior room.

Katie sat her backpack down and strode toward the open doorway. “Lock the door, Em. I don’t think we should give anyone the opportunity to surprise us tonight, ya’ know?”

Emily suppressed a shudder as she locked the door and tested it for good measure. She returned the key to her pocket and sat her own backpack down, exploring the main room with her flashlight more carefully. A thick layer of dust coated the floor and walls. Cobwebs hung from several points on the ceiling. A few corners of the room had small piles of debris, mostly empty coffee cups and candy bar wrappers.

Then there was the candle.

Unlike the other items in the room, the candle was clean and free of dust. It sat in a polished gold chamberstick holder. It was untarnished, and even the white wax rolling down the side of the candle hadn’t blemished the smooth surface.

Emily slowly approached the candle, transfixed. She had to touch it, hold it. She stowed her flashlight and reached out her hand. The white of her hand was reflected in the dark window, so close to the intoxicating flame. As her fingers neared the looped gold handle of the holder, she caught a strong whiff of cinnamon and honey.

Suddenly, a high-pitch squeal pierced the quiet of the cabin.

Emily. whirled around, reverie broken. She gripped her flashlight tightly and ran into the other room.

“Katie! Are you okay?”

Katie sat on the floor of a decrepit bedroom, clutching her chest and panting. She nodded at Emily, wide-eyed, and held up a finger. Emily’s tense muscles loosened slightly, and she examined the room while Katie caught her breath. A single bed frame lay in pieces in the middle of the room, with no sign of a mattress or blankets. A small table in the corner held a chipped, white ceramic wash basin and pitcher, decorated with painted pink flowers. Another table in the opposite corner contained a couple of long-dry, cracked oil lamps.

The thudding of her own pulse just started to fade from Emily’s ears when Katie took a deep breath. “Sorry, Em,” she said sheepishly. “I told you the girls would try to scare us and I’m the one they got. Look at what’s written above the door.”

Emilly took another step into the room and directed her flashlight beam above the door frame. Despite Katie’s warning, her stomach lurched at the words written in a dark, red liquid.

Get out.

Emily forced out a shaky chuckle. “We better get good rooms in that stupid house after this.” She looked up at the message and squinted slightly. “I think they wrote it with a paint pen.”

Katie stood up and followed Emily back into the main room. “That’s mean,” she pouted. “But I guess we really shouldn’t be surprised. Let’s look for other things they may have planted to scare us. While we’re ready for them.”

Emily nodded, scanning the main room again from the new angle of the bedroom doorway. She moved her flashlight slowly, looking for other pranks from the sorority girls. There were the shelves and table, devoid of function and cryptic writing. The impossibly perfect candle in the window. The still shut and locked exterior door. The cold wood burning stove and occupied rocking chair.

Emily did a double-take, breath catching in her throat. Occupied rocking chair?

Her stomach turned to ice as her flashlight focused on the rocking chair in the corner. Where there once was only a dusty wooden seat there was silky, tailored blue fabric embroidered with crisp, white lace. Small, pale hands and feet stood in stark contrast to the dark blue dress. Out of the collar sat an intricately formed white face, with expertly painted red cheeks and lips and dark eyes framed by long strands of silvery blonde hair.

A porcelain doll sat in the rocking chair, staring blankly toward the center of the room.

Bile rose in Emily’s throat. The white beam of her flashlight quivered as she tried in vain to steady her shaking hands. She drew in a shaky breath, filling her lungs with the now overwhelming smell of cinnamon and honey.

“Katie, let’s go,” Emily stammered. “I don’t want to stay anymore.”

Katie glanced to where her friend’s flashlight was fixed and drew in a sharp breath. She took a few hesitant steps forward, then slowly crossed the room to the doll. Emily let out an involuntary yelp as Katie picked up the doll, examining it closely.

“This is why you don’t want to stay?” Katie sat the doll back in its chair and retrieved her backpack from the wall by the door. “The painted message was way scarier. It’s just a doll.”

“A doll that wasn’t there when we got here.”

“You mean a doll we didn’t see when we got here,” Katie rolled her eyes and began unrolling her sleeping bag. “Come on, Em. Steph collects old dolls, doesn’t she? I think that was her ‘fun fact’ on the sorority’s webpage.” Katie smiled softly at Emily, still rooted firmly in the bedroom doorway. “She just put it here to scare us, just like the message.”

Emily quickly crossed the room to her own pack, pulling it on. “I don’t think so. I was in here for a minute while you were in the bedroom. I know that doll wasn’t here when we came. There’s something not right about this place, Katie.” She fumbled in her pocket for a moment before her fingers found the old, rusted key. “I’m leaving.”

Emily turned toward the door, but before she could fit the key in the lock Katie put a gentle hand on her shoulder. She turned back to her friend and was surprised to see tears in her eyes.

“Please, Emily,” Katie whispered urgently. “We’re so close. It’s already late, and I don’t want to stay by myself.” She stared down at her feet. “And I don’t want to join the sorority just to live in the house. I don’t want to join at all.” She grimaced and looked up to meet Emily’s gaze. “I have to join. It’s the first time I called home with an update on school that my mom was excited about.”

Emily stared intently at her friend. Katie could be dramatic, but she was not one to tell outright lies, especially since she knew Emily was scared. She sighed heavily, then removed her backpack from her shoulders and sat down beside Katie in the center of the room. Emily had no desire to stay in the cabin overnight, but she was also lucky to have parents who were proud of her no matter what. She knew Katie had strict, demanding parents, but if she was willing to spend the night in the middle of the woods just to have a chance at their approval, it must be serious.

“Let’s at least take turns sleeping,” Emily suggested, glancing warily at the doll. “I don’t really want to be surprised by any more hilarious pranks tonight.”

“Agreed. You sleep first, okay?”

After a few minutes of restless tossing and turning, the girls moved their packs and sleeping bags next to the back wall, opposite the door. Emily positioned her back against the dusty wooden wall, eyes flitting between the candle, the door, and the doll. Katie sat beside her, humming softly and hugging her knees to her chest. The quiet stretched on, broken only by Katie’s gentle voice and the occasional creak of wood as one of the girls adjusted her weight on the floor. Emily’s eyelids grew heavy, and her breathing slowed comfortably. She eventually drifted to sleep to the sound of Katie’s song and the smell of cinnamon and honey.

~~~~~~~~~

Emily startled awake. Her muscles ached from at least a couple of hours of sleep on the cold, hard floor. She lay still for a moment, straining to listen for the sound that must have awoken her so abruptly. All was quiet. Emily was just about to let herself drift back off to sleep when she realized Katie was no longer beside her. Emily sat up slowly and scanned the cabin. Sunlight was still conspicuously absent from the front windows, but Katie was standing still by the leftmost one. Emily’s question died in her throat as Katie picked up the candle, held it above her head for a moment, then put it back down, staring intently. She did this a few more times over several minutes before huffing slightly and turning around to face Emily.

“This candle is weird. Did you notice?”

Emily’s heart dropped into her stomach. “Yeah,” she wiped her suddenly sweaty palms on her sleeping bag. “Isn’t cinnamon and honey a weird combination for a candle?”

Katie crossed the room and sat next to Emily. “That’s not what I meant,” she frowned. “We’ve been here for hours and the candle still hasn’t melted at all. The plate isn’t even hot.” She pulled a water bottle out of her bag and took a long drink. “And the candle doesn’t have a smell.”

Emily stood up and sniffed loudly. She took a few steps toward the candle and sniffed again. And again. She repeated the process until she stood where Katie had moments before, sniffing the flickering orange flame as close as she dared. Katie was right, the candle neither smelled like anything nor showed any signs of melting. What was more, the room smelled only of dust, decay, and slightly spoiled coffee. Emily stared at the candle in bewilderment for a few seconds before sighing and turning to rejoin her friend. She cast a cursory glance at the rocking chair, then froze, her heart thudding loudly in her throat and ears.

The doll was gone.

“Katie,” Emily whispered, staring at the rocking chair. “Did you move the doll?” She pulled out her flashlight and clicked it on, moving its harsh, white beam into the corners of the room. She peered carefully around the room, looking for any hint of blue silk. Or fine, silvery blonde hair. Or porcelain skin.

After a couple of minutes Emily shook her head slightly. She’d been so intent in her search that she hadn’t registered Katie’s response. Fighting down the hot waves of panic rising in her chest, she repeated, “Katie, did you move the doll?”

Silence.

Emily’s stomach turned over as she moved her flashlight beam to the wall where she and Katie had been sitting. Katie’s sleeping bag and backpack lay on the floor next to her open water bottle. But there was no Katie.

Emily’s heart pounded in her chest as she moved slowly toward the bedroom doorway. “Katie,” she called, “This isn’t funny. Where are you?” She walked a small circle around the bedroom, examining every corner. She checked under the broken bed. The cabin was painfully quiet. Only Emily’s soft, squeaky footsteps on old wooden floorboards broke the oppressive silence.

Katie was not in the bedroom.

Emily took a deep, steadying breath, then coughed loudly as a strong smell perforated her nose and lungs, overpowering the constant musk of dust and decay. Cinnamon and honey.

Emily whirled around in the doorway and scanned the cabin. The room was exactly as it had been a couple of minutes before. The candle flickered in the window. Cobwebs hung gracefully from the ceiling. The front door remained shut tight. The wood burning stove sat next to the empty, motionless rocking chair.

She took a couple of hesitant steps into the room, looking for any sign of Katie. Her curly brown hair. Her yellow t-shirt. Emily glanced back to where Katie’s things still lay and immediately stifled a scream. Her stomach lurched painfully and she began backing slowly across the room, toward the front door.

A small porcelain figurine, clad in blue silk, sat on top of Katie’s sleeping bag.

Panic rose in Emily’s chest, hot and wild. She blindly fumbled with the door for a moment as she felt for the handle without taking her eyes off the doll. It sat squarely in the center of Katie’s bag, dark, lifeless eyes staring toward the door. Even from across the room Emily could tell its blue dress showed no traces of dust or grime, and every strand of silvery hair was styled neatly into place.

Emily finally found the door knob behind her back and twisted it. Locked. She dropped a trembling hand to her pocket, feeling for the large, rusted metal. Emily frowned, rifling first the left pocket, then the right.

The key was gone.

She tasted bile in her mouth and shuddered, glancing at her feet quickly for any sign of the key. There was nothing. Emily forced her eyes away from the doll across the room and began retracing her steps, focused on the ground before her. After checking around both of the cabin’s rooms in vain, Emily’s heart sank. The key must have fallen out of her pocket in her sleep…which meant it was in or under her sleeping bag. She fought back a wave of panic as she left the bedroom slowly. There was no way to get to her own bedding without passing the doll atop Katie’s. She took a deep, steadying breath, the smell of cinnamon and honey almost oppressively strong in her head, and turned her light to the sleeping bags.

The doll was gone.

Emily took a few hesitant steps forward, looking for signs of the doll as she moved. A hint of blue silk peeking out of Katie’s backpack. A small lump in the middle of her sleeping bag. A silvery-blonde head emerging from under a pillow.

Nothing.

Emily grabbed her sleeping bag and shook it hard. She needed to get out. Katie had to be outside somewhere. She had to get back to campus. She needed to call her parents. She needed to tell the Greek life advisor what sick pranks the sorority was pulling on pledges. She needed to –

A soft thud of metal on wood interrupted Emily’s frenzied mental checklist. She grabbed the key and her backpack, not bothering to collect the large, unrolled sleeping bag. She rushed toward the door, zipping her bag with shaking hands and hoisting it onto her shoulders. She was only a few feet away from her escape when she looked up again.

The doll sat on the floor in front of the door.

Emily screamed. She stumbled and fell, dropping her flashlight and landing hard on her elbow and tailbone. Ignoring the throbbing in her arm, Emily scooted backward until she felt the opposite wall. The doll sat serenely in its place in front of the door, dark eyes staring at Emily. A chill ran up her spine as her eyes flitted between the cabin’s only door and the figurine that sat in front of it.

She stood up slowly, wincing at the burning pain across her low back. Could she unlock the door without taking her eyes off the doll? Emily took a deep breath and coughed, choking slightly on the cinnamon and honey that blanketed the air. She took slow, measured steps toward the door, key gripped firmly in her hand. When she was only a few feet away, she kicked something, sending a flash of white light across the doll’s beautiful face and the still dark windows.

Emily involuntarily glanced down at the rolling flashlight. She tore her eyes from the spinning white light and refocused on the doorway. The now empty doorway.

Her breath caught in her throat. Emily’s muscles tensed as she turned her head from side to side, peering into the dark room for any sign of porcelain or silk. After a moment’s pause, she sprinted the last couple of feet to the door. Her hands trembled and she attempted to jam the key into the knob. Emily’s breath was hot and ragged, and tears stung her eyes as she struggled with the door. After a few seconds that stretched into an eternity, she managed to awkwardly slide the key into the lock. She turned the knob and –

A loud, tortured scream split the eerie silence of the cabin.

Emily screamed in response and clasped her hands over her ears. She whipped around, eyes roving the room frantically for the source of the sound. It was definitely Katie’s voice, but her roommate was still absent. Emily inched along the wall toward the candle, craning her neck for any sign of Katie. The room was too dark to see into the corners, but the fallen flashlight cast a narrow stream of white light. Emily swallowed the lump in her throat when she spotted the illuminated doll in the center of the room, its face turned toward where Emily stood motionless by the window.

Emily picked up the candle, desperate for a source of moveable light without getting closer to the doll. She braced herself for some kind of attack, but nothing happened. Emily held the candle in front of her and sidled along the wall back to the door. She peered intently at the center of the room, where the doll sat motionless. No matter how far Emily moved, the doll was always facing her, staring.

She was at the door. She fumbled behind her back for the knob, keeping her eyes trained on the motionless figurine framed in the flashlight’s harsh, white beam. Finally, she found it. Emily drew a deep breath and slowly twisted the cool metal.

“No, stop! PLEASE!”

Emily wrenched her hand away from the door once more as Katie’s frightened, anguished voice pierced the air. She froze, pierced to the spot she stood. Katie’s disembodied voice continued to tear into the silence around the cabin. White hot tears coursed down Emily’s cheeks in a steady stream as wracking sobs broke out of her chest.

She’s in so much pain.

The thought steeled Emily momentarily, and she took a step into the room again, looking desperately for Katie. Immediately, the flashlight went dark. She moved across the pitch-black room, unable to see anything outside of the foot of dim orange light the candle provided. Her free hand groped desperately along the cabin floor for anything she may have missed. A trap door. A wire. A switch. Anything that might lead her to Katie. Emily screwed her face up against the sounds of Katie’s screams and continued her search, brushing tears out of her eyes impatiently.

As abruptly as the screams had started, they stopped. Ears ringing in the sudden silence, Emily stood upright and began making her way to the back of the cabin. Emily stepped toward the bedroom, the strange, never-melting candle serving as her only safeguard against the oppressive darkness. Maybe if she checked the bedroom floor or walls she would find something. Katie had to be here. She had to be close.

“EMILY!”

“Katie?” Emily whirled around, frantically gazing into the darkness of the main room for the source of her roommate’s voice. She held the candle out and glanced upward. Then she screamed.

The doll was soaring toward her from above. It glided smoothly through the darkness, its white face approaching Emily with an otherworldly grace. The doll’s silver-blonde hair flowed behind it like a small waterfall. Its blue dress flared out at the bottom as if the doll were dancing. Emily stared as the porcelain figure descended on her, a combination of terror and awe settling into her stomach. With a yelp, she ran out from underneath the falling doll. Behind her she heard a soft thud on the wood.

Emily ran to the cabin door, heart pounding in her ears. She threw it open, sobbing as Katie’s screams intensified. Before she could run outside, a white figure blurred into view beside her. Emily turned her head in time to see the doll’s face mere inches from her own. It hung in the air for a long, endless moment, arms outstretched toward Emily. Its large, shiny black eyes bored holes into her as it flew forward, rooting her in place. The smell of cinnamon and honey filled her entire body and fogged her thinking. The doll's hand hovered a hair’s breadth away from Emily’s cheek. All the air left her body in an instant as she and the doll stared at one another.

“RUN!”

Katie’s scream shattered Emily’s trance. Without thinking, she shoved the candle she still held into its polished, white face.

A high-pitched, otherworldly screech filled the cabin. The doll immediately dropped to the floor as the orange flame licked hungrily at its hair, dress, and painted skin. Emily dropped the candle and fled the cabin, followed by the doll creature’s unholy wails. She tore madly through the clearing and up the small slope, clawing at roots and rocks to expedite her escape. The large oak trees overhead blotted out any remaining moonlight, enveloping Emily in complete darkness. Still she ran, not bothering to slow. She tripped several times, cutting her palms and knees in the process. But Emily continued running, haunted by the cacophony of Katie’s screaming mixed in with the doll’s inhuman cries. She ran with all her might until her lungs burned and her muscles ached. Emily fled for over an hour, not stopping until she suddenly broke through the thick wall of trees, stumbling onto the dewy, manicured lawn of Edgewood University.

She sank to her knees, wheezing loudly and clutching her side. Her eyes were swollen and red from the constant flow of tears as she ran, and her muscles screamed for relief. Emily willed her breathing to slow and immediately retched on the grass. When a few minutes had passed and she regained control of her stomach, Emily glanced over her shoulder into the woods. A few birds sang loudly nearby to bring in the day. The sun was beginning to rise, soft streams of pink and yellow coloring the very tops of the oak trees. And over the top of the wood rose a small, dark plume of smoke.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emily stared at the ceiling, willing her exhausted body to relax. She had been home for a week and was finishing the semester online at her advisor’s suggestion. Even in the familiarity of her childhood bedroom, Emily still struggled to sleep at night. She clutched the top of her comforter and squeezed her eyes shut. Her stomach churned. Every muscle of her body knotted and ached as she tried in vain to sleep. Her breath caught in her throat and her hands trembled. She might have to sleep on the floor of her parents’ room again. But before she resigned herself and headed down the hallway, she started a relaxation exercise the school psychologist had given her. Emily took a deep breath, trying to focus on the air in her lungs, and not the events of the past week.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe –

Campus and local police forces had immediately instigated a search for Katie. They deployed helicopters and K9 units, searching every part of the small wood that bordered the college. First responders followed the trail of smoke in the sky to the cabin, which was not listed on any official county records. Officers reported that their dogs would not approach the cabin, but rather retreated, whimpering loudly.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe –

Officers may have found the cabin by following the column of smoke in the trees, but when they arrived there was no trace of a fire on the cabin itself. The fire chief and lead arson inspector both found evidence of scorched leaves and branches in the trees immediately surrounding the structure. The cabin itself was untouched.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe–

While officers and first responders combed the forest for Katie, detectives questioned the sorority members responsible for orchestrating the overnight cabin stay. Allison and Stephanie had no idea who originally discovered the cabin – the sorority had used it as a scary hazing activity for pledges long before they joined themselves. The key was passed from leader to leader, and Allison did not know where it came from either. Stephanie admitted to scrawling the threatening message in the bedroom, but claimed not to know anything about the doll or strange candle. Emily’s insides turned to ice when she learned that neither the doll nor the candle had ever been seen by any of the pledges before them.

Breathe in. Breathe–

A few days later, Emily reluctantly joined law enforcement back at the cabin to see if anything had changed. The room was strange in the daylight, almost homey, but none of its features had changed. The wood burning stove and rocking chair lay innocently on the left side of the room, with the broken table resting to the right. Katie’s backpack lay next to two crumpled sleeping bags along the wall. The back bedroom was just also the same, broken bed, unusable oil lamps, and wash basin all untouched.

However, there was no candle in the windowsill, or anywhere else in the small cabin. No silk-adorned, porcelain doll.

And no Katie.

Following Emily’s pleas, police officers began pulling apart sections of wall and floor in the cabin’s two rooms. They searched for evidence of hidden rooms, false panels, and even open graves.

Nothing. Katie and the doll had simply vanished without a trace.

Breathe –

Emily jolted awake and sprang out of bed, panting. Like every other night over the past week she only managed to sleep for a few minutes before the memories clawed at her resting mind. The oppressive darkness of the cabin. Katie’s tortured screams. The doll’s white face and dark eyes, barely illuminated by the flickering orange candle in Emily’s hand.

She ran a hand over her weary eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. But it died in her throat. Her stomach clenched and body ran cold as she froze in the moonlight of her bedroom window. An involuntary scream ripped its way out of her throat as she suddenly sprinted out of the room, door banging against the wall. She ran wildly, sobbing and calling for her parents.

The overwhelming scent of cinnamon and honey wafted behind her in the darkness.