The Uninvited Third

I had been lurking on this site for over a year, devouring every story, but I never thought I’d have one of my own. That changed after a weekend at my friend’s cabin, and I’m still shaking as I type this. I need to get it out there, maybe someone can explain what happened, because I feel like I’m losing my mind.

It started with a cheap spirit board I’d bought on a whim at a yard sale. I know, I know, all the warnings, but I was curious, and my friends were into that stuff. My name is Alex, and my two friends were Maya and Josh. We were all in our early twenties, and we’d rented a remote cabin for a long weekend, hoping for some hiking and campfire stories. The cabin was nestled in the woods, miles from any town, and it had a creepy history, or so the owner said. He told us that a family had vanished there in the 70s, and the cabin had been abandoned for decades before being renovated. He laughed it off, saying it was just a story to scare tourists, but I felt a chill.

We arrived on a Friday evening, and the cabin was charming, all wood and stone, with a big stone fireplace. But something felt off. The air was heavy, and the silence outside was unnatural. No birds, no insects. I tried to shake it off, blaming the long drive. That night, after some drinks, Maya suggested we try the spirit board I’d brought. Josh was hesitant, but I was intrigued. We turned off the lights, lit some candles, and placed our fingers on the planchette. We asked simple questions, and it moved, spelling out ‘HELLO’, then ‘WELCOME’. We were excited, thinking it was one of us moving it, but then it spelled ‘ALEX’ and I felt a jolt. I hadn’t told them I’d bought the board, so it couldn’t have been a prank.

We continued, and the entity claimed to be a little girl named Lily who had lived in the cabin. She said she was lonely and wanted to play. We played a few rounds of ‘I Spy’ through the board, and it seemed harmless, even fun. But then the temperature in the room dropped, and the candles flickered. Lily started spelling out things that were too specific: my childhood dog’s name, Maya’s secret fear of spiders, Josh’s childhood nickname. We pulled our hands away, but the planchette kept moving, spelling ‘DON’T LEAVE’ and ‘PLAY WITH ME’ in frantic strokes. The room felt suffocating, and we heard a faint giggle from the hallway. We slammed the board shut and hid it under a cushion, but that night, we all heard footsteps in the attic.

The next morning, we tried to laugh it off, convincing ourselves it was our imagination. But then we noticed the mirrors. The cabin had a large mirror in the living room, and we’d covered it with a sheet, not thinking much of it. When we uncovered it, the glass was fogged, and someone had written ‘LILY’ in the condensation. But the windows were closed, and it was warm outside. We decided to burn the board in the fireplace. As it caught fire, it emitted a high-pitched scream that sounded almost human. The flames turned green for a moment, and the room shook. After that, the real horror began.

That afternoon, Josh went into town for supplies, but he came back after an hour, pale and trembling. He said he couldn’t find the road. He’d driven for a while, but the GPS kept leading him in circles, and he ended up back at the cabin. We tried to call for help, but our phones showed no signal, even though we had full bars. The landlines were dead. We were trapped.

As dusk fell, we started hearing things again, whispers in the walls, and the occasional giggle. We decided to search the cabin for any clue, and in the attic, we found a trunk with old photographs. They showed a family, and in one picture, there was a little girl, but her face was smudged, like something had tried to erase it. Behind her, in the background, there was a shadowy figure with no discernible features. I turned the photo over and read the inscription: ‘Lily, age 7, and friend.’ That was all.

Later that night, we were in the living room, trying to stay calm, when the TV turned on by itself. Static filled the screen, and then a distorted voice whispered, ‘Why did you burn my present?’ The lights flickered, and a cold wind swept through the room, extinguishing the candles. We ran to the bedroom and barricaded the door. But as we sat in the dark, we heard scratching at the window. We looked out, and there was a face, pale and childlike, with black eyes, pressed against the glass. It smiled, and its mouth stretched too wide, revealing needle-like teeth. It mouthed, ‘Play with me.’

We didn’t sleep that night. We huddled together, reciting every prayer we knew. But as the sun rose, the face was gone, and we thought maybe we’d survived. We packed our things, determined to drive out on foot if necessary. But when we opened the front door, we weren’t outside. We were in a hallway that shouldn’t exist, a long corridor with doors on either side. Behind us, the cabin was gone. We had no choice but to walk forward.

The hallway was endless, with flickering lights and the smell of decay. Each door had a name plaque, and we recognized our own names: ALEX, MAYA, JOSH. We opened Josh’s door, and inside was a room that looked exactly like his bedroom at home, but everything was slightly off, the colors muted, the air stale. In the corner, a figure sat in a rocking chair, facing the wall. As we watched, it turned its head, and it was Josh, but his eyes were black, and his mouth was sewn shut. He motioned for us to enter. We slammed the door and ran.

I don’t know how long we ran, but we finally came to a door that said ‘LILY.’ It was ajar, and a child’s voice emanated from within, singing a nursery rhyme: ‘Ring around the rosy, pocket full of posies…’ The singing stopped, and the door creaked open wider. We looked in, and there was a little girl in a white dress, playing with a doll. She turned to us, and her face was blank, no features, just smooth skin. She spoke, but her voice came from all around us, ‘You’ll never leave. I need friends to play with forever.’

Maya broke down, crying and apologizing. Josh grabbed my arm and pulled me back, but the hallway began to morph, the floor becoming soft and giving way. We fell into darkness, and then I woke up.

I’m in a hospital now, or at least I think it’s a hospital. They say I was found wandering the woods, alone, with no memory of how I got there. But I remember everything. They’ve diagnosed me with a dissociative episode. Maya and Josh are missing. I’ve tried to tell the police, but they think I’m crazy. I’ve tried to leave, but every door I open, I see that hallway again. I’m writing this from a room with no windows, and I can hear a child giggling in the walls. I think she followed me. And she wants to play.

If anyone has any idea how to send her back, please, I’m begging you. I can’t stay here much longer. The lights just flickered, and I can see a shadow under the door. I’m not sure if it’s a nurse or something else. I’m going to try to hide. If you read this, please don’t ever play with a spirit board. Some doors should stay closed.