The Cabin in the Woods

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  • Published: 13 May 2017
  • Updated: 7 Jun 2017
  • Status: Complete
Privington, Ashville not only holds the most interesting records of criminals, but it also is the home to the three young detectives; Marty, Wesley, and Jackie. After closing down yet another stolen goods operation, the trio is called upon to take on another task. However, this time it's different, and later on known to be extremely dangerous.

Chief Blanton, of the Privington Police Department, has given the young sleuths the task of finding his son, who has disappeared. Of course they accept, not knowing exactly what they were getting themselves into. When Jackie gets kidnapped, will the trio decide to back off or will they fight on? Will they find the chief's son, or will they fail?

Read on to dive deeper into this mystery.

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12. Chapter 12 - (Jackie's P.O.V)

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I turned left when I reached the end of the pathway, and continued going straight. I began to develop a small chill, so I donned my sweater and shoved my hands deep into its pockets. Everything was silent except for the wind, which blew the leaves around and crashed the branches slightly against the houses along the street. The sky was clear of greyish clouds, but full of the stars that gleamed so brightly. The moon shed a dim light on the deserted road, lighting the way well enough that I could see where I was going. Oddly the lights that were usually on were off, maybe broken and waiting to be repaired.

 

When I reached the corner of the sidewalk, I made another left onto Woods Drive. Everything here was completely still and quiet. No wind, no lights, no life. Nothing stirred in the stillness, and even the light that was projected from the moon was dimmer. I felt the uncomfortableness that I feel when I'm in places like this, places I'd describe as sketchy.

 

I crossed to the opposite side and made a right onto another street, one that made me feel less uneasy, that calmed me down in a way. I began to hum a tune that I had heard so many times—Take My Breath Away. Yes, I was an oldie. As I reached the chorus, I heard a noise that sounded like a firework being set off. I froze in place, scared to move. Then the sound came again. BAM! This time there was no mistaking it. It was a gunshot.

 

I began to back away into the shadows, hoping that I wouldn't be seen by whoever fired the shots. I crouched below a trashcan, peering over the side as curiosity overpowered fear. I noticed some movement behind a set of bushes, and ducked, holding my breath. I waited, and waited, and waited, but nothing happened. I poked my head around the side of the can, just enough so that I could clearly see, but so that I remained hidden. Nobody was there, and everything was silent again. I sat down, my back resting against the plastic. I turned my head when I heard a noise like someone was being dragged across the pavement, and—

 

"AH!!" I screamed. A man was spread on his stomach, dragging himself painfully slow on the ground with his hands. Was that blood I saw on them?

 

"Help..." the man whispered. His eyes stared at me blankly. He managed to say something else, but I didn't catch it I was so terrified. I felt a sigh emit from the man, and then he was still. He-he was dead. A man just died in front of me!

 

I scrambled to a standing position and blindly made my way back home. Taking a risky glance behind me, I spotted another---alive---man, gun in hand. His clothing was all torn and ruffled as if he’d been in some sort of fight. From the looks of the other man, it looked like my assumption was correct. I heard shouts from behind me, but I ignored them. All that mattered was that I got away from there as quickly as remotely possible. And alive at that.

 

As I returned to the street on which I lived, the rushing feet and shouting got louder. Then suddenly I heard another gun shot. If I was the intended target, then they succeeded. I felt a burning sensation soar through my left arm, and I raised my hand, placing it on my arm where it was shot. Removing it and putting it in front of me, I felt the warm liquid drip from my hand, and I saw the redness of my blood. First a dead man and now I’ve been shot. What else could possibly go wrong?

 

I finally reached the walkway of our home, and I turned to see if anyone was following me. From what I saw, nobody was there. I threw my fist on the door, banging loudly enough that would hopefully wake Marty or Wesley. Or maybe even the whole neighbourhood. Just someone!

 

"Marty! Wesley! Help, quickly!" I yelled, tears streaming down my face. "Please, Marty! Someone!" And finally my calling was answered.

 

The door flew open, and inside stood Marty who must have just waken. Was I really gone that long, or had he really been that tired? What on earth am I thinking? I’ve been shot for goodness sake!

 

When Marty saw that I was bleeding, his eyes widened and he called Wesley down, pulling me in. He shut the door behind him and locked it, then turned to me, concern all over his bewildered face.

 

"Jackie! What on earth happened?! Are you okay?!" he asked, pulling me into a comforting hug.

 

"M-Marty," I managed to say. "A man was murdered."

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