Benji’s Rented Cabin of Doom


Benji Korman could not outrun his past.

“Let us in!” the ghoul’s voice shrieked. A hundred hands slapped the timber walls of the retreat cabin Benji had rented for the month.

“You try for one lousy winter trip and monsters invite themselves over for dinner,” Benji muttered, reloading his weapon.  

He had been here before, the situation. The cabin was new to him and he had every intention of leaving a five star review on Trip Advisor.  Being surrounded by a horde of skinny, gray, spiky toothed, human eating creatures was old hat at this point.  Some years prior to this very moment he was hiding in a galley kitchen, he made a rude comment in a bar directed at a particularly ugly man drinking next to him.  Later that evening, the uggo attacked Benji and lost the fight.  All that remained of the bar patron was a pool of black goo.  Benji fled the scene before his disgust took the form a lost lunch.

One year to the day later, a pack of ugly men attacked him at his apartment.  Benji moved out after that fight.  His deposit was not refunded.

Fighting ghouls became a way of life after that.  It was far from the worst job he had held in life time.  He once worked finance.  Now he traveled the world waiting for trouble.

“Trouble” usually took winters off though, really putting a hindrance on the fun of a snowy vacation.

“Let us in!” The ghoul demanded once more.

“I really would like to not do that,” Benji shouted outside.

“Is there a better time we can come back?” The ghoul asked.

Benji had never met a funny ghoul.  He liked it.

“How about May?” Benji replied in jest.

“Can do.” The ghoul replied.

With that, the hundred hands slapping the wooden walls ceased.  Snow soon crunched under one hundred feet.  Benji had avoided the fight.  He sat beside the kitchen sink and dropped his gun in disappointment.

“The ghoul wasn’t being funny,” Benji said.  “What a let down. I was hoping for witty banter in the future. Dang.”


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