MidnightScreams

The Ashen

An empathetic outsider stumbles upon a remote cabin where a coven of witches performs a ritual that blurs the line between salvation and damnation.

Full Story:

The cabin was never on the map.

I found it by accident, or perhaps it found me. I had been hiking for hours, trying to clear my head after another long week of feeling like I didn’t belong. The woods were supposed to be my escape, a place where I could breathe without the weight of the world pressing down on me. But as the trees grew thicker and the path faded into nothing, I realized I was lost.

That’s when I saw it—a small, weathered cabin nestled in a clearing. Smoke curled from the chimney, and the faint glow of candlelight flickered in the windows. It looked almost inviting, like something out of a fairy tale. But as I approached, I felt a chill run down my spine, a sense of unease that I couldn’t quite shake.

I knocked on the door, half expecting no one to answer. But it creaked open, revealing a woman with piercing green eyes and a smile that didn’t quite reach them.

“You’re lost,” she said, her voice soft but firm.

I nodded, suddenly feeling like a child caught in a lie. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just need directions.”

She studied me for a moment, her gaze lingering on my face as if she could see straight through me. Then she stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter.

The cabin was warm, the air thick with the scent of herbs and burning wood. The walls were lined with shelves filled with jars of dried plants, crystals, and strange trinkets. A large cauldron sat in the center of the room, its contents bubbling softly.

“Sit,” the woman said, motioning to a chair by the fire. “You look exhausted.”

I hesitated, but the warmth of the fire was too tempting to resist. I sat down, my muscles relaxing as the heat seeped into my bones.

“My name is Elara,” the woman said, stirring the cauldron with a long, wooden spoon. “And you are?”

“Lila,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

Elara nodded, as if she already knew. “You’re not like the others who wander here,” she said. “You have a light about you. A kindness.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I stayed silent, watching as she added a handful of dried leaves to the cauldron. The room grew quiet, the only sound the crackling of the fire and the soft bubbling of the potion.


“Do you believe in magic, Lila?” Elara asked suddenly, her eyes locking onto mine.

I hesitated. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it.”

She smiled, but there was something sad in it. “Most people don’t. They go through life blind to the wonders around them. But you… you see more than most, don’t you?”

I didn’t answer, but she was right. I’ve always been too empathetic for my own good, feeling the pain of others as if it were my own. It’s why I’ve always felt like an outsider, like I didn’t belong in a world that seemed so cold and indifferent.

Elara turned back to the cauldron, her movements slow and deliberate. “There’s a ritual tonight,” she said. “A gathering of my sisters. You’re welcome to stay, if you’d like.”

I should have said no. I should have thanked her for her hospitality and left. But something about her words drew me in, a curiosity I couldn’t ignore.

“What kind of ritual?” I asked.

Elara’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “A cleansing,” she said. “A chance to rid the world of its darkness. But it requires a sacrifice.”

I felt a chill run down my spine, but before I could respond, the door opened, and three more women entered. They were dressed in flowing robes, their faces pale and their eyes sharp. They moved with a grace that was almost unnatural, their presence filling the room with an energy that made my skin crawl.

“This is Lila,” Elara said, gesturing to me. “She’ll be joining us tonight.”

The women nodded, their expressions unreadable. One of them approached me, her hand brushing against my cheek. Her touch was cold, like ice, and I flinched.

“She’s perfect,” the woman said, her voice a whisper.

I wanted to leave, to run as far as I could from this place. But my body wouldn’t obey. I was frozen, trapped in a web of fear and curiosity.

The ritual began at midnight.


The women formed a circle around the cauldron, their voices rising in a chant that seemed to echo through the very walls of the cabin. The air grew heavy, the candles flickering as if caught in a breeze. I stood at the edge of the circle, my heart pounding in my chest.

Elara turned to me, her eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. “The world is filled with darkness,” she said. “But you, Lila, have the power to cleanse it. All you have to do is give yourself to the ritual.”

I shook my head, panic rising in my chest. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

“Your empathy,” Elara said. “Your kindness. It’s a rare gift. And tonight, we will use it to purify the world.”

I tried to back away, but the women closed in around me, their hands gripping my arms. I struggled, but their strength was unnatural, their hold unbreakable.

“Please,” I begged, tears streaming down my face. “I don’t want this.”

Elara’s expression softened, but there was no pity in her eyes. “It’s not about what you want,” she said. “It’s about what the world needs.”

The chanting grew louder, the air crackling with energy. I felt a sharp pain in my chest, as if something was being ripped from me. My vision blurred, the room spinning around me.

And then, darkness.

When I woke, I was alone.

The cabin was empty, the fire reduced to embers. The cauldron was gone, the shelves bare. It was as if the women had never been there.

But I could feel it—the change.

My empathy was gone, replaced by a cold, hollow emptiness. I could no longer feel the pain of others, no longer sense their emotions. It was as if a part of me had been carved out, leaving behind a shell.

I stumbled out of the cabin, the cold air biting at my skin. The woods were silent, the trees standing like sentinels in the pale light of dawn.

I don’t know what happened that night, or what the witches took from me. But I know this—I’ll never be the same.

And as I walked away from the cabin, I couldn’t help but wonder if the world was truly better off without my light.

Comments:

No comments yet. Be the first to comment!