Emily looked up at the stars; it was such a perfect clear night. Her head was perched on a fallen log next to her newfound love, Ed. This was their weekend, their third date, and they wanted to be alone. The long-abandoned woods of Camp Maple Lake provided the ideal spot. The camp itself had closed, leaving only a series of abandoned cabins and a few private log homes scattered sparsely throughout the forest. Old folk in town warned of an entity haunting the area, but the young seldom heeded the warnings and would travel to see the legendary spot. Even the ongoing disappearances did little to thwart the small influx of guests.
Emily’s long, dark hair fanned across Ed’s sleeping bag. Emily was far too hot to snuggle down into her bag. The fire made from gathered wood blazed furiously and lit the shores of the water. Ed’s hand rested on Emily’s head and occasionally caressed her long locks as she smoked an exotic cigarette. After several puffs, she nonchalantly handed the smoke to Ed. Wind breezed daintily through the trees and created a few ripples on the lake.
‘You know what would be nice?’ Ed asked as the smoke was stubbed out. Emily shifted her gaze from the lake to meet his eyes.
‘What?’ she sniffed.
‘A beer!’ Emily pulled herself up moodily.
‘They’re back in the car,’ she moaned. They had left Ed’s Mustang up by the abandoned cabins and hiked along a trail through the woods to reach the lake. ‘And,’ Emily continued, ‘it’s dark. Anyone could be out there.’
‘No one’s out there,’ Ed laughed. ‘We’re alone.’ Emily tutted and swept her hair back, revealing her large, moody blue eyes, her lip dropped as she feigned sadness.
‘Go on, Emily,’ Ed continued, ‘and I will roll another one, then we can have some fun.’ He cupped her face and planted a lingering kiss on her lips. Emily smiled cheekily and let out a slight giggle.
‘OK, if I must,’ she teased, sweeping her tiny hands through his close-cropped sandy hair. She rose and brushed the dust and smatter of leaves from her jeans.
‘Bring the crate!’ Ed stated. Emily sniffed again, a snort of derision. ‘You know I love you,’ Ed hummed. Emily reached down for the torch that lay in the dirt next to Ed’s sleeping bag. She gave him a last peck on the cheek and uttered,
‘I’ll be right back.’
Ed watched as Emily disappeared into the shroud of the forest. He then turned his attention to his tobacco pouch and began to roll. The smell of crushed grass crept into his nostrils and he breathed in the aroma deeply as the sound of Emily’s footsteps melted into the distance. He sat up slightly and peered at the trail. The glow of the torch was gone. Ed finished rolling his smoke and lit it up, taking a deep, relaxing pull. His eyes partially closed, and he leaned back on one hand whilst smoking with the other.
The melody of the breeze was abruptly interrupted by the sound of a twig cracking at the edge of the woods. Ed twisted rapidly with a jump. He scanned the woods but could see nothing but darkness. Even the moonlight failed to illuminate the dense copse. Ed squinted and tried to look closer, but nothing emerged. He returned to his smoke, taking a deep drag. Again, the sound of a twig cracking broke Ed’s peace; he swung around.
‘Emily!’ Ed called nervously. The trees shuffled in response. ‘Emily, is that you?’ In an instant, everything stilled; the breeze stopped blowing and the trees stopped moving.
Ed gulped. ‘This isn’t funny, Emily,’ he called. He stared hard into the darkness, but nothing moved. A feeling engulfed him, a presence. He was not alone; the heaviness of someone’s eyes shivered through his body. Slowly, he turned back, taking in the surroundings; the wood’s edge, the trail, the pier’s wooden walkway and finally the shore. His body froze as his eyes took in a terrifying vision. There on the edge of the lake stood a giant of a man, whose hulking, heaving body was clad in a deep blue boiler suit. His face was hidden by a dirty hockey mask, and there in his hands he held a machete that glinted with a sinister malevolence in the moonlight.
Panic-stricken, Ed struggled with his sleeping bag. He had tightened the drawstring around his chest. The smoke fell from his hands and burned deeply into the bag. With one hand, Ed tried to flick away the smoke, and with the other he pulled vigorously at the string which held him. The masked man breathed deeply and angrily as he watched the fearful lad. Ed had heard of Kane, rumours, a myth even, but he had never suspected that the rumours could be true. Kane stepped forward. The murderous creature, the undead that roamed Maple Lake, had come to life.
Again, the creature stepped forward slowly, taunting his victim. Another noise from behind caught Ed’s attention. Emily’s footsteps as she marched carelessly back along the trail. Ed peered at the trail. ‘Emily, run!’ The shout echoed through the night and pounded Emily’s ears as she exited the trail. She stopped, dropping the crate of beer, a shudder trembled across her lips as she saw the monster striding towards Ed. Her feet froze to the spot. The monster advanced and ripped the string from Ed’s hands.
Kane lifted the sleeping bag from the ground in one hand. He shook it, forcing Ed deeper into the bag, and spun the string around, imprisoning the terrified lad.
‘Emily, run!’ Ed’s muffled voice called helplessly from the bag. Emily’s whole body shook; she wanted to run, but her feet would not shift. Kane marched towards Emily, towards the trees, carrying the fidgeting sleeping bag. Emily’s eyes widened as he closed in on her and a scream inadvertently escaped her lips.
Tears streamed down the girl’s face, and she forced herself to move. At first, she edged backwards, then with a hit of horrified adrenaline, she turned and ran back up the trail. Kane’s strides were great, but he stopped unexpectedly at the edge of the trail. His head tilted and turned to regard the sleeping bag; he pulled the bag over his shoulder and with one furious pelt, he beat the bag against the tree. The movement stopped and Kane slung the bag to the ground. The string released and Ed’s bloodied, ruined head was released and smashed on the path.
Kane resumed his strides at great speed; his hearing was sharp, Emily’s panting cry loud to his ears. Emily ploughed on. She was overwhelmed with terror; she desperately wished she was at home. The torch lay back near the lake amongst the debris of cans that had fallen from the crate. Only the clouding moonlight offered any light. Somehow, she had ventured from the trail and found herself running between looming trees. Kane’s footsteps thundered behind her; she tried to run faster, but her legs could not manage it.
Kane loved the chase; although duty-bound to his mother to cause suffering, he had a sadistic soul. The sight of a desperate, nubile girl trying to escape tantalised a deep longing within him. Their fear fed him and drove him on. Emily was no different, no different to the girls that had teased him as a child. She saw nothing but a monster; if they saw him as a monster, he reasoned, then he would act like the monster everyone expected him to be. He watched Emily’s path. Kane stopped; he would allow her some hope. The girl carried on running. Her feet ached, but he seemed to have stopped following her. At length, she slowed her pace and dipped into the shelter of a giant tree trunk. Emily looked behind her; there appeared to be no movement. Up ahead, she saw a light. Kane knew where the girl was headed. He drew his hand along the leafy forest floor and tugged at a wire. A hidden trapdoor flung open and he dropped down into the aperture.
Emily gazed at the light; light meant people. She could go for help. Perhaps there was a chance that Ed was still alive; perhaps he could be rescued. Emily looked over her shoulder again. She was certain he had gone. She crept towards the light, using the tree trunks to camouflage her. There in a clearing sat an isolated log cabin, but there was light. Emily hoped that someone would be at home. Her pace quickened as she approached the door, and by the time she was on the porch, a frenzy had taken hold.
‘Help!’ she cried. ‘Someone help me!’ Her fists pounded at the door, but no one answered. Behind her, the trees rustled in the wind; the noise startled her, and she gave the door one big shove.
The door opened with a groan and some stiffness. Emily used her shoulder to barge it a little farther and darted into the cabin, slamming it behind her. She found herself in a scarcely furnished room; an old sofa, a table with a couple of rickety chairs and a wood stove. Candles lit up the room, and a fire burned in the stove. ‘Hello,’ Emily called as her frenzy calmed, ‘hello.’ No one answered. At the farthest side of the room was an archway leading to the rest of the cabin. Emily hurried over to it and found a hallway with doors leading elsewhere on both sides. At the far end of the hall, built into the stonework, a dark crevice loomed, surrounded by candles.
A bad feeling consumed Emily; this was no ordinary house. She crept curiously towards the crevice. Her body trembled. She could make out something perched in the darkness of the hole. She stared deeply, trying to make out what was hidden. She focused her eyes; her toes met the base of the wall and Emily had to slightly raise herself on her toes to get a better look. Hollowed eye sockets stared back; hollowed eye sockets sunken into a wizened face. Emily screamed and stumbled backwards. She lost her footing and fell to her knees. Sobs gurgled from her throat and a trapdoor in the floor flew open. Kane shot up as if propelled by a supernatural force. His chest heaved heavily as he stared through one masked eye at her.
The machete still dangled from Kane’s hand. Emily shuffled backwards away from the monster until she was pressed against the wall. Mascara streamed down her face and her legs buckled against her belly. There was nowhere to run. Kane twisted the machete in his hands, exhibiting its sharpened edges. One hefty leg dropped and kicked closed the trapdoor. The space between them seemed so much less than it had when the door was opened. He moved towards her; Emily pressed her head against the stone wall. The machete’s tip brushed against her leg and dragged across her thigh onto her waist. Kane loved to hear his victim’s sob. The blade pressed into her cheek and dug into her hair as he teased her.
In an instant, Kane’s demeanour changed; his free hand grasped Emily’s hair into a bunch and pulled her off the floor. For a second, she dangled, flailing in mid-air. Then the machete blade sliced into the skin behind her ear. Blood trickled over her cheek, and as the blade moved across her forehead over her eyes, agonised squeals filled his delighted ears. He tightened the bunch and with one cruel movement removed the trespasser’s scalp. Her limp form fell to the floor. The machete’s tip dangled close to her barely-moving chest. Kane raised the weapon above his victim and drove it down with superhuman strength.
