They were living their very own version of:
'I Know What You Did Last Summer'...
Ever since the crime they committed when they were teens in boarding school, Wade Lancaster, Tatiana Petrov, Daniella White and Arthur Carlton have been paying for thei...
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May 2019 Outskirts of Seattle, Washington
"What are we doing here?" Wade demanded as soon as he and Art stepped out of the car and he saw the log cabin.
"Didi's friend at the station gave her this address." Art explained, "This is where he sent his last emails from."
"From an abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere," he snorted. "How fuckin' classic."
"Let's just get this over and done with." Art said as he pulled out the Glock 19 from the waist of his jeans.
"Whoa," Wade took a step back. "Since when do you go around carrying 9 millimeter pistols?"
"Since all our lives are at stake."
"Our lives has been at stake since like forever bro."
"This guy is sending death threats now, I've got a pregnant girlfriend I need to protect."
Wade remained silent.
"We doing this or what?" Art asked, lifting his head to the overcast sky and felt the first splatters of rain on his skin.
"Let's get the fucker!" Wade spat out, determination laced around his words.
The rubber soles of their shoes, squelched across the mud as they approached the wooden house. The cabin stood alone, barely visible among the overgrown trees that looked as though they were protecting people from the cabin. The windows that were cracked and broken and the pealing door that was bolted with iron rods, all looked scary and threatening enough to keep any sane person away.
What was worse was the rot and decay of the cabin's roof that made it seem as if it had been ripped from the scene of a horror movie. The cabin was tucked away on a long road just outside of Seattle. Art and Wade had followed the road for nearly a quarter of an hour and found no other signs of life.
Art didn't want to think of what the blackmailer was doing so close to Didi and him. All he wanted to do was make sure they stopped him, before he hurt anyone.
The woodland was ominously quiet, the only sounds were their footsteps and the moving of the leaves in the gusty wind. The closer they got to the cabin, the more gloomy and creepy it appeared. They quietly climbed the stairs to the front porch. Wade peeked through the windows while Art pushed the door, to his surprise, it creaked open. Wade came back around and stood beside his best friend.
"I don't think there's anyone here." he whispered.
"Only one way to find out." Art said, lifting his gun.
They shared a glance before wandering inside. The putrid smell of cigarette smoke mixed with dust and dry rot, rat/mice feces was heavy in the air. Art covered his nose with one hand while still holding up the gun with the other hand.
