Annie tore her eyes away from the severed hand on the floor and looked at the four men. Her voice shook as she forced the words out.
"What the hell is going on here? And where is my father? He owns this place. He's supposed to be here."
Henry looked at her. "If your father is Raymond, the guy who used to live in this cabin, then he's already dead."
The words landed hard. Annie took a step back, face going pale.
"Whoa, hey," Sam said, shooting Henry a sharp look. "Maybe ease her into it."
Henry crossed his arms. "What? You want me to sugarcoat it?"
"You're lying!" James snapped, stepping in front of Annie despite still wincing from earlier. "Ray was fine. He came up here for historical research."
Ash gave a dry laugh from beside the wall, shotgun resting on his shoulder. "Yeah, researching ancient demons. Hell of a research project."
Dean sighed and stepped toward Annie, voice calmer than the others.
"Look, Annie, I'm sorry. Really. But Henry isn't lying. Your dad found something he shouldn't have, and it got him killed." He gestured toward the door.
"And whatever killed him is probably still out there."
Annie covered her mouth, trying to hold herself together.
Then a voice came from outside the cabin.
"Annie...?"
She froze.
"Is that my little girl?"
Her eyes widened. "Dad?"
"I'm so cold out here, Annie," the voice called through the wooden door — Raymond's voice, exactly. "Why did you bring these bad men to our cabin?"
Annie took a step toward the door.
Henry moved in front of her instantly. "Don't."
The voice outside changed. The warmth drained out of it, replaced by something deep and unnatural.
"Let us in."
The windows rattled as a wet, guttural growl rolled through the cabin.
"Let us in so we can swallow your filthy soul!"
Demonic laughter echoed through the woods from several directions at once.
Ash's expression hardened as he pumped his shotgun. "Well, the welcoming committee is officially here."
Dean drew his gun. "Everybody stay calm."
Another heavy impact slammed the cabin door.
BANG!
Annie screamed. James grabbed her and pulled her from the entrance. "What the hell are those things?"
Sam moved to a window, glancing out without getting too close. "I don't see anything."
"That's because they're not stupid enough to stand in the open," Dean said.
Another BANG shook the door.
Henry grabbed the fire poker from beside the hearth and moved toward the entrance. "Doors and windows. Now."
Dean took a window, Sam checked another.
Henry looked at Annie and James. "You two stay in the middle of the room, behind us. Don't go near the windows, don't open that door, and whatever you do, don't touch that damn book."
His eyes flicked briefly to the Necronomicon on the table.
Annie nodded nervously. James swallowed and moved beside her.
Ash raised his shotgun toward the door. "How many of these things are there?"
Henry listened to the movement outside. "Enough."
"That's not exactly a number," Dean said.
"I know."
Then, suddenly, all the noise outside stopped. The pounding, the growling, even the laughter — all of it vanished at once.
Dean kept his gun raised, watching the door. Sam glanced between the windows. Henry held the poker ready. Annie and James stayed exactly where they'd been told, watching the four men nervously.
Nobody spoke for several seconds. The silence in the cabin sat heavy and suffocating.
Annie's eyes fell on the reel-to-reel tape recorder nearby. Before anyone could stop her, she reached over and switched it on.
The machine crackled to life, static hissing before Raymond's recorded voice filled the cabin.
"My name is Raymond. I'm an ancient history specialist, and this recording concerns the Necronomicon Ex-Mortis, also known as the Book of the Dead..."
Annie listened in stunned silence, growing paler and more terrified with every word as her father's own recording explained exactly what the book was, and the horrors he'd unleashed after reading from it.
When the recording finally clicked off, the empty reel spinning with a soft rhythmic slap, Annie looked up slowly at Dean.
He lowered his gun slightly. "Well, now you know the truth," he said quietly. "Your dad was killed because he read from that thing and woke up something he really shouldn't have."
Annie stared at the grotesque, flesh-bound book on the table. "So... that's what happened to him?"
Sam nodded sympathetically. "Yes."
James swallowed hard, eyes darting to the boarded-up windows. "So, if we go outside... do these things kill us?"
"Killing might be the wrong word," Henry said, chillingly matter-of-fact. "These things enjoy human suffering. If you get caught by them, they'll toy with you for a while. Slowly possess you. And then... you get an ugly ending."
James gulped visibly, looking at the heavy front door, suddenly grateful Henry had stopped him from running blindly into the woods minutes earlier.
"So, is there any way to escape?" he asked, voice cracking.
"Well, these things are weaker during the day," Henry said, leaning on the iron poker. "So when daylight comes, we can try to make a run for it."
Annie seized on that sliver of optimism. "So if we escape... they can't follow us, correct?"
Henry gave her a dark, humorless smile.
"No. They can follow you. And they won't rest until they've killed every single one of us."
*****
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