Alan

Alan pressed on the handle and the doors opened. Not locked. Great.

The first thing he noticed as he stepped inside was the smell. It wasn’t anything he recognised, but it almost made him gag. Pinching his nose, he felt the wall by the door for a light switch. Feeling plastic underneath his fingers, he pressed. After a second, a single light flickered and came alive, banishing the darkness from the room.

It wasn’t big. By the door was a small iron furnace, likely meant to drive away the cold. Besides the furnace stood a single chair, with a desk attached to the single armrest. A space-saving idea? Behind the chair, in the corner, was a bed.

Walking over to it, Alan felt it. Barely a bed. A wooden plank with a blanket on top of it. Grunting, he turned to the other half of the room. The majority of it was just a single big closet. He pulled on the handles and the wooden panes opened smoothly. They revealed a small armoury. Three rifles, four pistols and a whole bunch of ammunition for it all.

So, it was a hunting cabin. He had been surprised to see anything manmade this far out into the woods when he’d first seen it. Build beneath a ridge, it looked almost natural. Almost. If it hadn’t looked a bit out of place, he wouldn’t have found it and he would’ve probably still been lost among the trees.

Alan checked the closet for a phone charger. When he didn’t find one, he sighed and closed it. Pulling the phone out of his pocket, he put it on the small chair-desk. Of course, his battery ran out while outside. He really should’ve started charging it before it hit 20%.

But who could’ve known the dog would run away!?

Thankfully, everything he needed for a fire was piled by the furnace. If there wasn’t a charger, he couldn’t call for help. He needed somewhere to spend the night if he couldn’t call for help. And since the bed was a disappointment, he would at least warm the room. While it wasn’t yet freezing cold outside, he had been out in the woods for hours now, searching for Kel. The dog was named after an ancient warrior but would be helpless in the wild by itself.

Soon, a little fire burned in the furnace, and Alan sat down on the chair. Good thing he’d been a scout as a kid. Otherwise, he’d be cold. He looked up, through the only window of the cabin, next to the chair.

A shadow moved and he flinched. Was that Kel? Or a wild animal? Regardless, he moved a bit on the chair and moved his gaze to the flames in front of him. He knew how to start a fire, not track an animal in a forest. Especially not at night. Kel would have to wait until morning.

He only hoped that his family wouldn’t be too worried. Although, if someone came looking for him, he’d be home sooner. But Kel couldn’t simply be left in the wild either. He had been Alan’s late father’s dog and Alan wasn’t quite ready to part with him.

Movement in the corner of his vision made him look through the window again. Besides the branches swinging in the wind and the occasional leaf falling to the ground, nothing moved again. Was it simply his imagination?

Just to be sure, he stepped to the door and opened it.

“Hello? Is anyone out there?”

Only crickets replied. He backpedalled back inside, when an owl replied as well, making him jump.

“Damn nature. This is why I quit the scouts,” he muttered.

He checked around the room again, looking for the door’s key. He didn’t feel good leaving it open. He didn’t find it.

Opening the closet again, he pulled out a pistol and loaded it. He’d never shot before, but how hard could it be? Besides, Alan wasn’t planning on using it. He took it just to feel safer.

Sitting back down in the chair, he looked into the fire again. The orange tongues of destruction waved around the wood, crackling. It almost seemed as if they were dancing in a circle. His fingers played with his phone, while he was thinking of his dead father. He’d died two years ago. The cause of death is unknown. The Salidetarian (Christian) priest told them that demons had killed him. That he’d worked with them and helped them.

Ridiculous. He had been one of the most pious men in town! He’d even moved here from Nothia because he deemed the city to be full of non-believers! He, a demon worshipper? Bah.

Another shadow moved outside, and Alan sharply looked up into the darkness. The way his head had been hanging, he would’ve seen something only if it had passed right next to the window. He fixed his gaze on the door. Was something out there?

For a minute, nothing happened. He stayed still, holding the pistol tightly, for another. Nothing. He looked through the window again. The trees and their branches moved in the wind; no other movement was seen.

Was it truly so windy outside? The branches were swinging quite aggressively. Was there a storm announced?

As he gazed outside, a figure stepped out of the darkness, into the light coming from the cabin. Completely black, it stood on two legs, tall and with arms too long, almost touching the ground with them. Black smoke drifted around it. That was no human. It was staring right at Alan.

Jumping to his feet, he clenched the pistol in his hand. His face became ghostly pale as he watched the being retreat into the darkness. As he jumped, he hit the chair’s desk and his phone fell to the ground, the screen cracking. Not that it mattered since it was already dead.

What was that?!

Then Alan remembered his father again. Were demons real?! Had his father truly given in to them?! Have they come to take him because of what he had done?!

Shivering, he moved away from the window. A howl resounded in the distance, but he paid it no mind. A wolf, he could deal with. He knew for a fact that bullets worked on them. The black monster he’d seen? He wasn’t sure.

Midmons Pass had always been known for its beautiful, untainted nature. Had it been so untainted that even such creatures lurked in the expansive woods?

Oh, God, why had they moved here!?

The room seemed darker, except for the furnace fire, which burnt brightly. Standing in the corner, clutching the pistol, Alan started calming down. When his heart rate reached a semi-normal beat, he moved towards the closet. He pulled out a belt for the pistol and a few boxes of ammunition. He also took a rifle and an old oil lamp.

He wasn’t going to stay in the cabin. He’d rather try his luck out there than sit and wait for them to return. Because they were bound to return. He felt it.

Taking some fire from the furnace to light the lamp, he turned to the door. He opened it and braced for the wind.

There was none. Alan stepped outside. The branches were still swinging around, but he felt no wind upon his skin. He shivered again. Cursing his father and his stupid idea of not training the dog, he started walking.

After reaching the edge of the cabin’s light, he looked over his shoulder. He’d left the door open. Animals would enter it and likely wreck it. He turned back to the dark forest. If the owner cared, he wouldn’t have left it unlocked.

Gripping the rifle with his right hand, and holding the lit lamp in his left, he left the hidden cabin behind him.

Immediately, the forest enveloped him, sounds and scents coming from all around. Yet, his vision, which he needed the most, was limited to the light circle of the oil lamp.

He kept walking. At first, he kept on looking around, trying to spot the black creature. It taxed his mind too much, so he later decided to simply look straightforward and just keep on walking. Every once in a while, he checked the trees for moss. Moss grows on the northern side of the trees. Usually. It was the best hint he had.

Then, he saw a bright light ahead. Flickering between the trees. A fire? Campers? He hurried his steps.

As he moved through the bushes, he kept the rifle close to his chest, so as not to lose it. He dropped the lamp, for it disturbed his pushing through the bushes. When he came through, to the clearing, Alan covered his eyes. The fire was big and was almost white in his eyes. It was hot.

Lowering his hand, he looked around.

Five shadowy figures danced around the fire, which rotated in the opposite direction of their dance. Then they stopped. They snapped their faces towards him. He screamed.

He turned to rush back into the bushes, but the demons lunged at him. Grabbing him by his clothes and pulling his hair, they pulled him to the fire. There, they threw him to the ground. The rifle and pistol were taken and thrown into the fire.

Through tears, Alan looked around for any possible escape, but the demons stood too close to one another. There were no gaps. He looked up at them. His thoughts blanked out.

The faces. He knew them. His father was the one with the long arms. Next to him was his first and last girlfriend. Then a girl and a boy who he recognised as two murder victims from his life in Nothia. He’d been a witness.

He screamed again.

“What are you!? What do you want!”

They stared at him without an answer.

His body shook and he pulled himself in the only direction he could. Towards the white-hot fire. The dark figures followed him, not making a sound. Reaching the fire, Alan turned back to him, his eyes bloodshot.

“I couldn’t have helped! I couldn’t have!!” he screamed towards the boy and the girl. They looked like twins. Both gave him empty stares.

He turned to his girlfriend, “You wanted it! It’s not my fault!” He broke down and sobbed. “It’s not my fault…”

He looked up at his father last. His eyes filled with anger.

“It’s all YOUR fault! You and your stupid religion! I had to do it! You were hurting us! All of us! What kind of God, what kind of Saviour demands sacrifice!?”

None of them replied. Or moved.

Then, something walked onto the clearing. A dog.

Kel.

Alan smiled. Undoubtedly, the dog wouldn’t leave his master like this.

Kel approached. But as he did, black smoke started to go up from his fur. He lifted himself to his hind legs and transformed into another of the demons. The others made room for him in their barricade. Alan gasped.

This one. It had Alan’s own face. It smiled.

“But you could’ve helped them,” it nodded to the twin demons. “You simply wanted to see what would happen if you didn’t”

It waved at his girlfriend “It wasn’t her fault. You kept on squeezing even after she started flailing around and scratching your arms.”

Lastly, it looked at his father.

“He wasn’t hurting you. You’ve been born hurt. You took it out on the world and your father only tried to help you. Then you had enough and ended it with poison.”

The Demon Alan leaned forward. It loomed above the real Alan, blocking some of the fire’s light. “They’re not the demons. You are.”

The Demon turned and the others stepped forwards. They lifted Alan in the air.

“Who are you?!” Alan shouted at his doppelganger.

It turned and approached the held man again. “Me?”

Its face twitched and Alan’s face lost all colour. His eyes rolled back in his head and he started spasming. As if he’d seen death itself.

When the Demon turned away, its face was another.

“I am #&#. What you would call, the Devil.”

The others threw the shaking Alan into the fire, watching him for a second, then melting away into the dark night. Alan started screaming as the flames burnt him.

The next day, a searching party found him in that clearing, shaking and speaking of demons. Besides him, they found a rifle and a gun. Nearby, an abandoned lamp which, if it had been summer, could’ve easily burned down the forest. Along with Alan.

Locked away in a mental hospital, the man kept on repeating the word “Demons” for the rest of his life.