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Monday, December 2, 2024

# 2024 # Free Read

The Final Toll - Day 2 #25DaysOfChristmas


If this goes well, this will be made a yearly tradition by Trilogy Ink :) So please, like, follow, comment, and share.

Day 2: A Gift Best Left Unopened

Megan awoke with a start, the dull light of dawn filtering through the frost-covered windows of the cabin. For a moment, she wasn’t sure what had pulled her from sleep—whether it was the remnants of a bad dream or the echo of something real. Her heart thudded in her chest as she sat up, glancing around the room. The sickly sweet smell from the night before still lingered faintly in the air, making her stomach churn.

She rubbed her eyes and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The cabin was eerily quiet. Lisa, Tom, and Nate were still asleep, their soft snores the only noise cutting through the stillness. She padded over to the window, peering out at the blanket of snow that stretched as far as the eye could see. Everything seemed so peaceful outside, untouched by whatever strange events had unsettled them the night before.

But her eyes drifted toward the front porch.

The small package they had found last night sat in the same spot near the fireplace, untouched since Tom had opened it. The bell inside had been placed on the mantel, the dull tarnish of its surface catching the weak morning light. Megan shuddered at the memory of its hollow, unsettling sound, the way it seemed to echo unnaturally in the cabin. She had fallen asleep with that echo ringing in her ears.

Her gaze moved to the Christmas stocking, still hanging where she had left it the night before. It didn’t seem as benign as it had before. Now, in the morning light, it felt like an intruder in their cozy space—an unwelcome presence, cold and unfamiliar.

“Morning.” Lisa’s voice broke through the silence, startling Megan. Lisa was leaning in the doorway, yawning and rubbing her eyes. “You’re up early.”

Megan managed a weak smile. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Lisa moved to the coffee pot and started brewing, filling the cabin with the comforting aroma of fresh coffee. She glanced over at the mantel, her eyes lingering on the bell. “That thing is creepy,” she muttered. “I don’t know what it is, but I hate it.”

“You’re not the only one,” Megan admitted, joining her at the counter. “Something about it feels... wrong.”

Lisa frowned, pouring two cups of coffee and handing one to Megan. “Do you think it’s some kind of prank? Like, maybe the owners of the cabin do this to freak people out?”

“I don’t know,” Megan said, taking a sip. “But it wasn’t here when we first arrived. And neither was that stocking.”

Lisa glanced back at the fireplace, her brow furrowed. “Yeah, that’s weird. But maybe we’re just overthinking it? It’s Christmas, after all. People do strange holiday traditions.”

Megan nodded but couldn’t shake the feeling gnawing at her. Something about the whole thing felt off, like a wrong note in a familiar song. She forced herself to change the subject. “Let’s get the boys up. We’ll go for a hike today, maybe check out the lake.”

They roused Tom and Nate, and after breakfast, bundled up in their winter gear for a trek through the snow. Despite her lingering unease, Megan couldn’t deny that the landscape around them was breathtaking. The trees were coated in shimmering frost, their branches bending under the weight of the snow. The air was crisp and cold, and the sky above was a clear, pale blue.

They set off toward the lake, their laughter cutting through the silence of the woods. For a while, it was easy to forget the strange events of the night before. The snow crunched under their boots as they made their way through the trees, the stillness of the forest a welcome respite from the city.

But as they neared the frozen lake, Megan felt it again—that creeping sense of unease. The trees seemed taller, their shadows longer, as if they were watching. The wind picked up, biting at her skin despite her heavy coat, and she shivered involuntarily.

Lisa noticed and gave her a sidelong glance. “You okay?”

Megan nodded, but her eyes flickered toward the woods. “Yeah. Just... the quiet. It’s a little unnerving, don’t you think?”

Lisa shrugged. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. It’s supposed to be quiet.”

They reached the lake and paused at the edge, staring out at the frozen expanse. It was stunning, a perfect sheet of ice stretching across the valley, reflecting the pale sky. The boys were already skidding across the surface, laughing as they tried to slide as far as they could without falling.

But Megan stayed back, her arms crossed over her chest. The wind had picked up again, and with it, that scent. The sickly sweet smell she had noticed last night. It was faint, barely noticeable, but it was there.

“Megan?” Lisa’s voice sounded distant, like it was being carried on the wind.

She blinked, realizing she had zoned out, staring at the trees on the far side of the lake. They were darker, somehow, the shadows between them seeming to shift and move. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog in her mind.

“I’m fine,” she murmured, though she wasn’t sure she believed it.


By the time they returned to the cabin, the sun was already sinking low in the sky, casting long shadows across the snow. The warmth of the fire was a welcome relief after the cold trek, and they quickly shed their coats and boots, eager to relax.

But as soon as they stepped inside, something was wrong.

Megan was the first to notice. The bell was missing.

She had seen it there before they left, sitting on the mantel, catching the light in that unsettling way. But now it was gone.

“Where’s the bell?” she asked, her voice tight.

Tom, who had just started unzipping his coat, paused and looked at the fireplace. “What do you mean? It’s right—”

He stopped, his eyes narrowing. “Wait, what the hell? It was right there.”

Nate frowned, moving closer to inspect the mantel. “Maybe it fell?”

But a quick search around the fireplace turned up nothing. The bell had vanished.

“Okay, that’s weird,” Lisa said, her voice trembling slightly. “But maybe... I don’t know. Maybe we knocked it off this morning?”

“No,” Megan said, her voice firm. “I saw it before we left. It was there.”

Tom rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s just a bell. Maybe we misplaced it. No big deal.”

But Megan’s heart was racing. The bell had felt wrong from the moment they found it, and now it was gone, just like the stocking had appeared out of nowhere the night before.

Something was happening here.

As they settled in for dinner, a heavy tension hung in the air. Conversation was stilted, each of them too aware of the missing bell to fully relax. The fire crackled in the hearth, the only sound in the otherwise silent cabin.

Then, as they were clearing the dishes, there came a knock at the door.

Not a soft knock, but a loud, deliberate pounding. The kind that echoed through the cabin, sending a chill down Megan’s spine.

Tom and Nate exchanged glances, and Tom slowly stood, heading toward the door. Megan and Lisa followed, staying a few steps behind, their eyes wide.

Tom hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob. Then, with a deep breath, he pulled the door open.

There was no one there.

But sitting on the porch, in the exact same spot as the night before, was another small package. This one wrapped in silver paper, tied with a dark red ribbon.

Tom crouched down, picking it up slowly, as if it might bite. He turned it over in his hands before glancing back at the others.

“What the hell is going on?” Nate muttered, his voice shaky.

Tom opened the package carefully, his hands trembling. Inside was a single item—a sprig of mistletoe. But like the bell, it wasn’t right. The leaves were withered and blackened, the berries a sickly shade of gray. A faint scent, the same sickly sweetness from before, wafted up from the plant.

“What is this?” Lisa whispered, her voice barely audible.

Megan’s stomach twisted as she stared at the mistletoe. “I don’t know. But this isn’t some Christmas tradition. This is something else.”

Tom tossed the mistletoe onto the table, his face pale. “Who the hell is doing this?”

No one had an answer. But as the fire crackled and the wind howled outside, Megan had the distinct, horrifying sense that whatever was happening wasn’t just some prank. It was deliberate. And it wasn’t going to stop.

As they sat around the fireplace that night, the cabin felt smaller, the shadows deeper. No one mentioned the mistletoe, but it sat on the table like an unspoken threat. And though the bell was still missing, Megan could swear she heard its hollow, tinny echo somewhere in the distance.

Sleep didn’t come easily that night. Megan lay in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, her mind racing. Outside, the wind whipped through the trees, making the cabin groan. Every creak, every rustle made her jump.

And then, in the dead of night, she heard it.

A soft, rhythmic tapping.

From the front door.

Her heart raced as she lay there, frozen, listening.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It was deliberate, like someone—or something—was gently knocking, waiting for her to answer.

She pulled the covers up to her chin, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

The tapping continued, relentless.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped.

But in the silence that followed, she could have sworn she heard the faint, eerie jingle of a bell ringing somewhere in the dark.







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