The Old Cabin by the Lake

My father and his wife live in a cabin built in the 1930s. It sits deep in a forest, near a wide, calm lake.

One Saturday, I was visiting. My dad told me something strange had happened the day before. He had been alone, reading a book in the loft. Their dog, Rusty, began to growl at the front door. My dad checked the window, but the long driveway was empty. He went down to the main room, but Rusty kept growling at the solid wood door. Peering outside, he saw nothing.

He returned to his chair in the loft. A moment later, he heard the distinct sound of someone climbing the creaky stairs. He spun around, but the staircase was empty. He stood up quickly, his heart beating fast, and searched the small cabin. He found no one.

His story made me nervous. The following weekend, I brought my friend Clara to stay. I warned her the cabin might not be entirely quiet. She just laughed and said I was being silly. That evening, we watched an old scary movie, which put us both on edge. Finally, I said we should try to sleep. Just as we settled into our beds, we heard the distinct sound of the old water pump by the lake beginning to churn.