Samantha (Corrections Officer)

I tried shutting my eyes, but rest stayed out of reach. My friends seemed restless too, tossing and turning. We both tried to pretend we were fine, but an uneasy tension hung in the stale air. Maybe it was just the unfamiliar stillness, or maybe a deeper instinct was telling us this trip wasn't going to be the peaceful getaway we'd planned.

I tried shutting my eyes, but rest stayed out of reach. My friends seemed restless too, tossing and turning. We both tried to pretend we were fine, but an uneasy tension hung in the stale air. Maybe it was just the unfamiliar stillness, or maybe a deeper instinct was telling us this trip wasn't going to be the peaceful getaway we'd planned.

Either way, that sense of being cut off from everything familiar didn't ease up. If anything, it got heavier as the night wore on. I must have dozed off at some point because the next thing I remember was a jarring sound against the cabin door, a rasping scrape that snatched me right out of that half-sleep haze. My friend and I locked eyes in the darkness, our breathing shallow.

Either way, that sense of being cut off from everything familiar didn't ease up. If anything, it got heavier as the night wore on. I must have dozed off at some point because the next thing I remember was a jarring sound against the cabin door, a rasping scrape that snatched me right out of that half-sleep haze. My friend and I locked eyes in the darkness, our breathing shallow.

We waited, hoping it was just a branch brushing the wood. Then the tapping started, a deliberate sequence that couldn't be ignored. I froze, unsure if I should call out or pretend we weren't there. The knocks continued, steady and too confident for a random animal. It felt like the whole cabin was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

We waited, hoping it was just a branch brushing the wood. Then the tapping started, a deliberate sequence that couldn't be ignored. I froze, unsure if I should call out or pretend we weren't there. The knocks continued, steady and too confident for a random animal. It felt like the whole cabin was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

My friend's bunk creaked as he shifted and I could sense his alarm. We didn't dare say a word. I had no clue who or what stood on the other side, but the notion that someone had walked all this way in the dead of night, without any announcement, clutched at my nerves. When the sound finally stopped, the silence that followed was worse.

My friend's bunk creaked as he shifted and I could sense his alarm. We didn't dare say a word. I had no clue who or what stood on the other side, but the notion that someone had walked all this way in the dead of night, without any announcement, clutched at my nerves. When the sound finally stopped, the silence that followed was worse.

We strained to hear footsteps fading into the woods, or a whispered voice, but nothing came. The air in the cabin weighed on me like a wet blanket, thick and oppressive. Every so often the wind outside would stir the branches, and I'd jump, certain it was another signal at the door. My friend kept switching his gaze between the entrance and the dusty windows, expecting a figure to materialize.

We strained to hear footsteps fading into the woods, or a whispered voice, but nothing came. The air in the cabin weighed on me like a wet blanket, thick and oppressive. Every so often the wind outside would stir the branches, and I'd jump, certain it was another signal at the door. My friend kept switching his gaze between the entrance and the dusty windows, expecting a figure to materialize.

We each quietly debated if we should check what was out there, but neither of us could muster the courage to actually get up. The rest of that night crawled by. I tried to distract myself by counting our supplies in my head, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the phantom visitor. Who knocks in the middle of nowhere and then vanishes without a single word?

We each quietly debated if we should check what was out there, but neither of us could muster the courage to actually get up. The rest of that night crawled by. I tried to distract myself by counting our supplies in my head, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the phantom visitor. Who knocks in the middle of nowhere and then vanishes without a single word?

I wasn't sure if it was safer to cower inside or go outside and risk finding out. Time stretched into a sleepless blur. Every creak in the rafters and groan of the cabin walls seemed ominous, like the forest was trying to swallow us whole. At the first trace of dawn, we forced ourselves out of our bunks.

I wasn't sure if it was safer to cower inside or go outside and risk finding out. Time stretched into a sleepless blur. Every creak in the rafters and groan of the cabin walls seemed ominous, like the forest was trying to swallow us whole. At the first trace of dawn, we forced ourselves out of our bunks.

The light filtering through the small window offered a hint of relief, but I couldn't ignore the lingering sense of unease. We stepped out onto the porch together, bracing for anything, a confrontation, footprints, something. Instead, the area was perfectly still, like nothing unusual had happened. No tracks in the soft dirt, no scrapes on the door.

The light filtering through the small window offered a hint of relief, but I couldn't ignore the lingering sense of unease. We stepped out onto the porch together, bracing for anything, a confrontation, footprints, something. Instead, the area was perfectly still, like nothing unusual had happened. No tracks in the soft dirt, no scrapes on the door.

My friend stared at the ground, muttering how it made no sense that someone could have walked away without leaving a single clue. We circled the cabin, searching for anything that might explain the nighttime visitor. There was nothing. No bent grass. No scuffed earth. No litter. It was as if the forest had erased all signs of an intruder. Neither of us wanted to say it out loud, but we both knew.

My friend stared at the ground, muttering how it made no sense that someone could have walked away without leaving a single clue. We circled the cabin, searching for anything that might explain the nighttime visitor. There was nothing. No bent grass. No scuffed earth. No litter. It was as if the forest had erased all signs of an intruder. Neither of us wanted to say it out loud, but we both knew.

We weren't imagining this. We heard those knocks. It wasn't a wind-blown branch. This discovery left me more unsettled than before. The morning sun didn't do much to calm my nerves. It just highlighted how isolated we truly were. By the time we finished our loop around the perimeter, I was torn between finding the courage to stay or packing up and getting out.

We weren't imagining this. We heard those knocks. It wasn't a wind-blown branch. This discovery left me more unsettled than before. The morning sun didn't do much to calm my nerves. It just highlighted how isolated we truly were. By the time we finished our loop around the perimeter, I was torn between finding the courage to stay or packing up and getting out.