Abhineet Agarwal
2 min readNov 20, 2020


The Cabin

A short, cerebral thriller.

A dark, dilapidated cottage is painted against a bleak sky. It’s dusk, and a skeletal tree can be seen to the right.
“Cottage at Nightfall 1885” by Vincent van Gogh (1885)

I woke up with a start, unaware of my impending doom.

Still gasping for breath, I looked around and took in my surroundings. I was sitting on a chair, in front of a table. I was in a dilapidated cabin. Splinters jutted off from the wooden boards; shelves were on the wall, here and there, all full of either flasks or books.

I was sweating — and still heaving in and out, my eyes landed on a patch on the wall. Covered in blood.

My eyes widened as my heartbeat quickened. What the hell? Where was I? Why was there blood on the wall? What was this worn-out cabin? How did I come here?

And the more I tried to remember, the more elusive the information got. It was as if everything was there in my head — I just couldn’t reach it. I tried and I tried — but to no avail.

I saw that my entire hand was coated in blood. And that’s when I completely freaked out.

Everything was confusing, the blood, the amnesia, and it seemed to get more and more frustrating. WHY COULDN’T I REMEMBER ANYTHING?!

That’s when I saw the contents on the table. Random chemistry paraphernalia was scattered here and there. Bunsen burner, a single empty flask stained purple at the bottom, bottles of some chemicals — and a letter.

I might have forgotten everything else, but I still remembered that the handwriting on the letter was…mine.

A letter from me.

To me.

I opened it.

“I know that you are confused. I know that you can’t remember anything, because I’m going to drink this flask. Just remember…it’s for the greater good. It’s a calculated decision, which will benefit you. And me. Just do one thing.”

My eyes widened with fear as I read the next line.

“Get out of that house, RIGHT NOW.”