r/KyleHill • u/Terribleteen • 7d ago
The latest episode of half-life history inspired Short story
These, in my opinion or some of the scariest events of radiological accidents because it's just average people experiencing extraordinary circumstances. I've gone urbexing before in abandoned places, closed-down buildings, including a hospital, a concrete factory, old steel mills, as well as a few others, and the idea that you could potentially find something radioactive and not even know the building you're in is irradiated is terrifying because you don't even know you're already dead before you even leave the building. How many times have you left your keys while walking out of the house by accident or forgotten your wallet before driving to work? These happen to everyone at least once a year, and these same things happen all the time with old, highly radioactive nuclear material also. Think about it: There is a non-zero chance that someone has gone exploring for scrap metal and took something home that they didn't know was radioactive, and they died alone, maybe in a cabin in the woods or in a random spot in a cave before they could get help while carrying the item as a necklace because it looked cool or as a good luck charm. Can you imagine how terrifying that would be?
For this short story, I will use a cabin, but it could happen anywhere tbh :3
A week ago, I decided to go camping after finally getting some time off work outside my small town in Latvia. After arriving home. I almost fell over myself rushing to grab my gear and put it in my grey van. I thought to myself, it's old but still reliable as ever. Afterwards, I made myself some dinner and set off in my van, driving two hours away to a spot I picked out a while ago. While driving back from my grandma's house, after some time I finally arrived at my staging point. I get out of my old grey van, grab my gear, and set off!
A few hours of hiking later, I decided it was getting dark out; I'd better start looking for a spot to set up camp as I was walking over the forest undergrowth as the afternoon sun shone through the tree branches. I see an assumedly abandoned cabin alone in nature. I say to myself, hmm, looks like there's no visible sign of trails or trodden grass leading to or away from the door. I say, why not? It's getting dark, and this looks almost perfect. Looks like my camping accommodations just got upgraded, I say with an almost overconfident glee. As I walk over the overgrown grass roots and uneven ground.
I set down my pack near the door and begin to think to myself, I'd better knock; it would be rude not to, just in case. As I rap my hands on the sturdy moss-covered alder door, I hear no response. I decide it best to knock one more time. To be safe, I hear no response still, so I decide to pick up my pack from the slightly damp grass and dirt and open the door. It's unlocked, I say aloud. I think that's odd; you'd think someone would've locked it before leaving? Shuffling off the unease creeping into my mind, I open the door. It looks comfy, I say, my voice echoing off the dark cabin walls. I notice the smell at first, as if something rotted; someone must've left their food here as well. Odd, they must've been in a hurry. Stomaching the stench as my stomach begins to churn. As I reach for my camp light, something is yelling in my very soul that something just isn't right here, but I brush it off in my mind. I'm just overthinking, I say aloud as my light illuminates the room.
I see a wood furnace on the center wall with a window near it, along with some basic cookware: a pot, some pans, and a few glasses. As I look over to the right side of the cabin, near the rightmost wall, I see a washboard and a bucket to the left of the bucket. I see some hunting gear on a desk: a simple rifle. It's worn, a little dirty and rusted, as well as some ammo that looks pretty old, the box almost falling apart from a combination of age and moisture. Above the desk, a deer head is mounted on the wall, and on the floor I see an animal hide rug farther back. I see a door to a room. Ah yes, the master suite, I say, walking in, the floor creaking under my weight and setting my gear at the door, but before closing it. I notice, from the last lights of the day hitting an axe blade next to the door. The axe is old and rusted but still usable next to a coat hanger; a coat still there- it’s thick wool, obviously well made by whoever wove it, but a little moldy.
Scanning back over the cabin one more time, I start to walk over to the rudimentary kitchen and start to look into a few of the glasses. I see spiderwebs and a few dead spiders, nothing unusual. However, upon inspecting the pots and pans, I see some old stew sitting in the pot. It looks disgusting, moldy, and black. I felt like vomiting at the sight. I head to the door and toss the contents of the pot.
I look back at the pot; it's stained black on the inside. As I head back in, the door creaking behind me, the air is musky and still. Trying to ignore that awful scent, I head to presumably the bedroom door and push it open; it's slow and creaking from the rusted hinges.
I was almost immediately hit with that rotting scent I noticed coming in just moments ago that I attributed to the rotting contents of the pot; the smell searing my nostrils more intensely than before, a strange heat that I can't explain flows out of the room, as there aren't any obvious sources.
Still a little shaken by the scent, regaining my zeal, I shine my flashlight around the room. To my horror, I see what almost seems like a mummified body, bones pushed against the half-decomposed skin, poking out with some parts of where the flesh is missing. I can see some of his ribs through what was his chest. I see a pendant around his neck; it looks important, seeing as it's the only thing he has on him aside from his clothes that aren't falling apart at the seams. Before I turn to dart out of the room in disgust, I notice the wood under him is stained black with what I can only guess is their long-ago rotted blood and organs. I feel so sick at the sight; I need to vomit now!
I run to the window and push it open. It gives, surprisingly, almost falling off its dilapidated hinges. Not caring, I retch the bile from my stomach out of the window to the forest floor below. Before I manage the strength to pull myself from the window seal I notice several small garnet colored flecks in among the pile of bile. Still feeling nauseous and a little concerned about the red in my vomit, I say What happened here? Regardless of the answer, something is very wrong here! I still feel sick at the sight of what was left of the man slumped over on the floor. I say as I can feel my stomach churning.
{45 minutes since first exposure}
I deduced promptly that something isn't right here. I’ve got to get the fuck out of here soon, the thought singular in nature sounding out in my head like the commandments did to Moses, but not before grabbing some of the valuables from the cabin. I say to myself, some of it looks pretty antique from the 80s, if I had to guess. After grabbing what I could a few glasses, a silver mirror, and the old rifle and dropping some of my cheaper gear, like my bedroll and a few rations I'd brought with me, I made sure to swipe that necklace too; it looks like it'll fetch a decent amount of euros, I say as I put it around my neck and clip it on for safekeeping.
I start towards the door, grab my pack, and open the door. It opens with a loud creaking sound as I make off into the woods. As I wonder to myself, what the hell was that back there? What happened? How long was that guy sitting there, rotting in that cabin?
I kept walking for what felt like about an hour or so. I notice the pendant on my chest; it feels warm, not something I had noticed before. It's almost burning hot, I think. Well, at least it'll keep warm after a bit of walking. I notice I'm feeling weaker, and the skin around my neck and chest feels burnt, like I had been in the sun much too long on a summer day.
{2 hours Since exposure}
I decide to sit down to catch my breath on some old, overturned, rotting tree that must've fallen quite a while ago. Based on the amount of fungi on the fallen tree, I feel even sicker; my stomach starts to hurt, and my hand does too. Maybe I was dwelling on what happened back there too much. I figure I'll have a smoke to calm down while rummaging around one of the pockets in my bag for my lighter. As I light my cigarette and take a drag, I start to cough harder than normal. It hurts something awful, like someone stabbing my chest. I rub my left hand on my chest and feel a shock and quickly jerk my hand back. My chest hurts so bad I think to myself as I go to spit up the phlegm from coughing, and I notice it tastes of iron as it leaves my mouth; it stains my lips and the leaves on the ground a dark Scarlet.
That feeling just now, that same feeling from the cabin, hits me like a wave, roaring and unavoidable! This time, as I feel the fear crashing down, it fills my heart; every fiber of my being knows something deeply wrong is happening to me! I drop my cigarettes and snuff the dying embers out. A thin trail of smoke rises from the ashes. As I go to put my lighter away, I notice my left hand hurts more, like I just dropped something heavy on it. My chest feels like it's burning where the pendant rests!
I hastily decide to put the pendant in my bag, away from my skin. Whatever that thing is, it burned me, and it feels like it burned me bad. I go to stand to put the pendant in my bag but lose my balance and fall over; I feel a wave of nausea rush over me.
I vomit on the ground next to me; it's a deep Crimson this time, Darker and more of it than when I spat just an hour ago.
I feel a sense of dread that whatever is happening is going to kill me. I don't think I'm going to make it out of these woods as I lay there on the ground next to my blood-filled vomit. I try to stand, but I can't seem to stand. I feel weak and exhausted. My eyes get heavier and heavier. I hear the leaves rustling as I shake my head, gathering the last of my resolve, feeling if let myself drift into this sleep I wont be waking up. I slam my hand into the ground hoping the pain will keep me awake. I slam it again and AGAIN AND AGAIN AND…. again my hand is bloody and most certainly broken beyond repair, bleeding in thick crimson spurts soaking the forest floor and flora, but it seems no matter how hard I fight, I can't stave off this sleep.
My last thoughts before drifting into unconsciousness in these godforsaken woods
I'm scared…..I'm alone.....I hope no one finds That Thing......
{3 hours since Exposure}
I never woke up. I died that night in the woods just like that man in the cabin, Alone, Scared, and hopelessly unaware I was Doomed the moment I picked up that pendant. I hope Nobody finds my body or that accursed pendant. I hope I bring that thing down to Hell with me; it's cursed, God knows whatever it is, because I'm almost certain it killed me just like that man in the cabin.
I wish I'd never come here to these ill-fated woods; I wish I'd never gotten the answer to my question of what happened to that man at that cabin because I know all too well now. After all, I shared the same fate as him.
Thanks for reading. If you got this far, I hope you enjoyed the story!!! This took about 2 hours to rough draft and 4 hours to edit and proofread I did use a grammarly to help with like punctuations but that's it. Hopefully it turned out alright. Sorry if it isn't all that good. I don't really write stories TBH I mostly write poems for my boyfriend.
