Creepypasta

THE COMFY AND COZY CABIN

I quickly walked through the cabin, making sure everything was nice and tidy, just right. I've gotten pretty good at getting the whole cabin clean in less than a day. After a quick alignment of the magazines on the coffee table, the place was perfect. Penny would have been proud.

The name of the place was "The Comfy and Cozy Cabin". Sounds relaxing, right? The cabin was built into a slab of rock, right in the middle of nowhere, North Carolina. It's three stories tall, and features a breathtaking view of the mountains. We bought it for basically nothing, it was in total shambles. It took quite a bit of money to get the place up and running again. In four months, I'll finally pay the mortgage off, and start making money. If business keeps up, I'll be able to quit my job.

I stood and admired the cleanliness of the house for a few minutes. You could have eaten off the floors. I heard the unfamiliar sound of a car, the sound of rocks being pushed around by the tires. Finally, they're here. I stepped out to greet the strangers.

My welcoming smile was replaced with a look of shock, disgust.

Sam and Martha Anderson, from Alford, Florida, looked nothing like I expected them to. The elderly couple with the sun hats and disposable cameras I had in my mind was replaced by two young, very thin, very pale individuals. They looked downright sick. Nonetheless, I tried to keep my composure. "How was your trip?" I said in the most welcoming voice I could muster. It may seem like I'm making a big deal about the way these people looked, but they literally appeared as if they hadn't eaten for weeks, like skin over bones. I guess you just had to be there.

"It was fine," the man, Sam, said to me. His voice was completely devoid of emotion, humanity. His eyes never met mine; Sam gazed at nothing.

There was about two seconds of awkward silence. I broke it, my voice felt weak. "O- OK. Let me give you guys a tour of the place, then I'll be on m-"

Martha turned her eyes toward me; they looked glazed over, dead. That's when I realized what these people looked like; walking corpses. Martha's voice had a little more pep to it, but I could still feel the same humanless vibe from her. "We'll be just fine. We don't need a tour, we saw the pictures online." She sounded tired.

My stomach started churning. They were the first to refuse the tour. There have been some that didn't want it, wanted me to leave as soon as they got there, but said yeah anyway. You can kind of tell these things. They sigh when you open the cabinets, say "Yeah, I saw all this online." See them glance over to their significant other in a smarmy way. Not a single one of them refused the tour, though. I didn't like this, not one bit. "A-are you sure you don't need me to show you where the towels are?"

"I think we can manage, don't worry," Sam said, in his emotionless monotone.

"Alright. Do you have the money?" Most people pay for their stay online, but a few prefer to hand me the money in person. I figured someone who drove for hours to get here wouldn't try to con me, so I let it slide. Also, it's not like I wouldn't know where they were if they gave me fake money. I was hoping that Sam forgot to bring it. Oh, I'm sorry Sam, you and your ghoulish wife can't stay here. Get the fuck off of my property you spooky bastards.

Sam slowly put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a wad of twenty dollar bills. He didn't pull them from a wallet. I carefully counted the money, wishing they were a few twenties short, counted it again. It was the right amount, seven hundred smackers. Fuck.

"Well! That should do it!" I said with the most fake enthusiasm I could muster. "I hope you enjoy your stay at the 'Comfy and Cozy Cabin!' I'll be back in week." On pure mechanized instinct, I put my hand out, expecting a handshake. Sam looked down at my hand for a beat, as if he couldn't remember what to do. He wrapped his hand around mine. Sam's hand was cold, fucking cold.