Lisa’s Threat: A Weekend Getaway Turns Deadly
🔴 LISA SAID I WAS NEXT, HOLDING THE KNIFE, BUT IT WASN’T A JOKE
I gripped the chipped ceramic mug, the coffee suddenly tasting like ash in my throat.
The air in the cabin hung thick with the scent of pine and damp wool, fire crackling aggressively in the hearth. Lisa’s eyes were too bright, pupils blown wide, as she kept sharpening that hunting knife against a smooth river stone. She keeps muttering about “the game” and how we had to “finish what we started.” It was supposed to be a relaxing weekend getaway after Mom died.
Her voice was raspy and low. “You know what you have to do, Sarah. It’s your turn.” I swear I could feel the heat radiating from her skin across the room. We’ve been best friends since kindergarten, we’ve been through everything together — but this… this isn’t her.
Then I heard a distinct CLICK from the front door, and a deep voice yelled, “POLICE! EVERYONE FREEZE!”
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My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. Relief flooded through me, washing away the fear that had been slowly suffocating me. Lisa, however, seemed to deflate. Her shoulders slumped, the knife clattering to the floor as if it had suddenly become too heavy.
Two officers, their faces grim but their movements efficient, filled the doorway. They quickly scanned the room, their eyes settling on Lisa and then on me. “Sarah?” one of them asked, his voice softer now, laced with concern.
I nodded, my throat still too constricted to speak. The officer approached cautiously, keeping a safe distance from Lisa. “Is she… hurting you?”
I shook my head, focusing on the officers, trying to understand everything that just happened. “She… she thinks we’re playing a game. A really… messed up game.” I managed to croak out, finally finding my voice.
The second officer moved to Lisa, carefully cuffing her. As they did, a small, worn notebook slipped from Lisa’s pocket. One of the officers picked it up, flipping it open. Inside, scrawled in Lisa’s familiar handwriting, were lists of names crossed out, and beside each name, a date. Each date matched a local missing person’s report from the past year, and a chillingly detailed description of how they went missing. My name was at the very top of the uncrossed list, followed by a single, scribbled word: “FINISH”.
Lisa began to sob, a raw, broken sound that tore at my heart. The officers led her away, their movements professional but their faces reflecting the gravity of the situation. As they did, I noticed a large object under the table that wasn’t there before.
Once they were gone, I carefully moved to where Lisa had been standing. Kneeling to the ground, I pulled the cloth away. Underneath lay a very old and very dusty Ouija board, with the planchette still positioned at the ‘YES’ square. The ash in my mouth now felt like the dust I was staring at.
The relief, however, was fleeting. The fear, though lessened, wasn’t entirely gone. The police would take care of Lisa, but what about this game? What about what it made her do? Could I truly say this was the end, when the source of it remained?
I took the chipped ceramic mug, and walked out into the crisp morning air. The cabin, the woods, the game, felt dangerous still. The police may have saved me, but my heart knew something else was coming.
I would need to figure out what that was, before it found me again.