Hey everyone.
I wrote this story for Halloween. My original plan was to finish my 'Haunting Delusions' story first, but Time got in my way and I ended up writing and finishing this story instead.

Sooo, I am trying my hand on a little bit of horror and hope you will enjoy it.
The story will have two chapters and sort of starts after the happenings of Haunting Delusions. It made sense for me to do so, and it offers reasons for the different behavior of our favorite guys.
I am posting the final chapter tomorrow, on Halloween.

Hope you'll enjoy it!


Chapter 1 - The cabin in the Woods

"Mark my words, this is going to be phenomenal," Face said for the 10th time that evening.

The big black van with the four soldiers of fortune was gradually making its way through a rural area that consisted of many pine trees and dense shrubbery alongside the road.
As per usual, B.A sat behind the steering wheel. What was less usual was the conman occupying the front passenger's seat while giving the gold-clad mechanic important road directions. Hannibal, who was sitting on Face's usual seat chewed on an unlit cigar while reading a book called 'The Art of War'.
Sitting next to him sat Murdock, slumped down with his arms folded over his chest and his cap pulled deeply over his face. For the moment, it seemed he was deep asleep.

"This is supposed to be the top-notch cabin of the area." Face said while turning around to face his commander with uncontrolled enthusiasm in his voice. "It was built according to the latest trends in home décor!".
Hannibal looked up from his book and met the excited eyes of his lieutenant.

"The house is supposed to be provided with all the latest gadgets and luxuries a man can wish for.
It has a fully equipped modern kitchen, six big bedrooms, a dining room, four bathrooms (one with a jacuzzi!) and there's even a recreational room with a big-screen television, a video recorder, a pool table and supposedly a couple of arcade games!"

Murdock shifted slightly in his seat while B.A grunted approvingly.

"Ahhhh we are going to be living the dream for a whole week long!" Face said with a sigh and a longing look in his eyes. "Such a pity I couldn't bring Jacky.
Ahhh... Jacky. She's really something, you know."

Hannibal nodded while taking his cigar between thumb and index finger.

"It sounds excellent Face... Almost too good to be true...". The commander hesitated. "How did you find this cabin again?"

"My architect friend, Jean-Paul, owed me a big one," Face beamed with his trademark smile. "He said he would let us rent this apartment for a small price. Apparently, a bunch of famous actors have stayed there too...Michelle Pfeiffer, Jeff Goldblum, Carrie Fisher to name a few."

"I sure hope it's pet-friendly..." Murdock drawled from under the brim of his cap which he'd pulled deeply over his eyes, "Billy likes his space."

Face's slightly annoyed gaze briefly met Hannibal's amused one. The conman rolled his eyes at the pilot and quickly turned around in his seat to answer B.A's bark (aka request) for directions.
Hannibal smiled to himself and looked out of the front window of the van at the idyllic scenery outside. It was a beautiful area, and Face's energy was starting to affect him.
The team sure could really use some time off to recuperate from their latest 'little' adventure * (*See my other story: Haunting Delusions).
Their short stay at B.A's mother in Chicago had been abruptly disrupted when military police decided to show up in the area. Hannibal had to make a quick decision as the MP's where suddenly hot on their tails again. They barely escaped, and B.A didn't even have time to say goodbye to his mother which had made the man very grouchy and sullen. Both his sergeant and captain were still recovering from their injuries, though B.A insisted on driving the van himself.

"Nobody gets behind the wheel 'cept me," he'd growled at his comrades after limping his way into the driver's seat.

The road trip from Chicago to Los Angeles had been long and very silent. And even though B.A didn't want to show it, he obviously wasn't feeling fit and needed breaks more often than usual. His team members all noticed but chose not to mention it around the large mechanic. They already danced around him on tiptoes as it was.
Fortunately, halfway their journey while crossing Colorado, Face approached the team with a proposal. Wouldn't it be a great idea to stay low in the countryside for a while instead of heading to L.A where they would surely meet up with an MP-welcoming party?
The guys (even B.A) approved of the idea. The handsome conman made a call, pulled some strings, and voila; they had a new destination.
At these moments, Hannibal felt very grateful for his lieutenant's skills.

Suddenly Face's excited voice broke Hannibal from his thoughts.

"There it is! Number 606. That's our address!" Face exclaimed as the van reached the entrance to an old property.

B.A heaved an inaudible sigh of relief. In need of a break, he was happy to have reached their destination.
With sleepy eyes, Murdock curiously lifted the brim of his hat while Hannibal leaned forward to have a better look at the place.
A dark silhouette of a house loomed up against the blood-red sky that was illuminated by the setting sun.
The path to the cabin was cast in the gloomy shadows of the tall pine trees. A lonely call from a bird of prey could be heard from somewhere deep within the forest.
B.A parked the van in front of the rusty metal fence and climbed out of the van to stretch his stiff limbs.
Face, Hannibal and Murdock followed his example and the four men stood in front of the metal barrier with mild feelings of hesitation. Face's beaming smile had somewhat faltered as he observed the state of the garden and what he could see of the house. It didn't exactly look modern. The whole property had a feeling of neglect about it.
This didn't even come close to classy and trendy according to his standards.

"Maybe they went for retro?" Hannibal suggested, correctly interpreting his lieutenant's disappointed expression.

Face checked the metallic numbers on the fence again. 606, that was the address his friend had given him.

"Let's have a look, shall we?" He said with a somewhat subdued voice that lacked his former enthusiasm.

As Hannibal and B.A followed him, Murdock casually strolled towards the front of the fence with his hands stuck deep in his jacket pocket. His eye had fallen on something dark and orange-colored on the ground. He crouched down, picked it up and observed it with curious eyes.
It looked like something made of metal. The flat object had oxidized and was partly covered in dried-up muck and leaves.
With a little bit of scratching, Murdock managed to remove parts of the mud and revealed a shape that looked like a number.
B.A turned around.

"What're you waitin' for, sucker? What you got there?"

"Six" Murdock muttered thoughtfully while looking up at the numbers on the fence.

"Whaddaya mean six!? Don't go picking up dirty things from the ground, man!" B.A said with clear disgust in his voice. "Your gramma never told ya that? That's just nasty, man. Throw it back!"

Murdock got up from his crouch, shrugged and threw the metal number or whatever it was away. Uncharacteristically to the pilot, he didn't feel like playing with B.A's bad temper today. He just felt tired.
B.A grunted something incoherently before limping his way to the entrance of the house. Murdock following closely in his footsteps.
Face was already standing on the front porch, almost feverishly looking for the key.

"Jean-Paul said it was hidden under the cherub sculpture. But I don't see one."

B.A and Murdock joined them and started searching the badly maintained front yard for a cherub too.
Hannibal frowned as he almost instinctively reached out for the copper handle of the aged wooden door. The moment he touched it, it swung open with a heavy creaking sound. The older man blinked in surprise, then smirked

"Looks like we don't need a key after all, lieutenant."

Face looked up with a bewildered expression on his features and peeked over Hannibals' shoulder into the ghostly hallway.
The small entry looked eerily dark and not at all inviting. As Face took a step inside it was as if the house heaved a sigh of anticipation. The conman shivered involuntarily but brushed it off as a figment of his imagination and opened the door into the living room with building agitation.

It was like stepping into a time capsule. The team walked into a room that had the looks and feel of the early seventies, but... creepier.
There were tall black-framed windows that let in the remains of the quickly fading sunlight. Everything seemed to be made out of deep-brown mohagony wood. The walls, the floors... even the furniture was brown combined with hues of orange and olive green. There were two big old-fashioned maroon colored sofas and in front of the fireplace lay a real bear rug with patches of fur missing from its back. It seemed to snarl at the men from its position on the floor.
Murdock eyed it suspiciously and quickly stepped behind B.A's broad back.
There were a kitchen and a dining table with rickety chairs at the end of the room. The kitchen with its olive green cabinets looked ominous and abandoned in the fading daylight.

"ArrrrgH!, I am going to KILL Jean-Paul!" Face exclaimed after making a quick evaluation of the house.

This didn't even resemble a fraction of the fabulous house he'd been promised.
Face checked his notes with the address again. He was sure it was cabin number 606, he just knew he hadn't made a mistake.
Hannibal, in the meantime, found a light switch and turned on the lights of the dim-lit room. They swooped on with a low buzzing sound. The lights flickered for a second before shining steadily. It didn't really approve the atmosphere but it was better than lurking around in the semi-darkness. Even the bear rug looked a bit more friendly, though Murdock would absolutely argue the matter.

"At least it has electricity," the colonel said with his usual optimistic tone of voice.

"And running water," Murdock stated after checking the water tap in the kitchen and filling a grimy glass he'd found in the cabinet.

"We might have to chew it first though," he remarked while holding up the glass and eyeing the yellowish water with interest.

"That does it!" Face snapped while making his way to the exit door. "This can't be the right place. I'm gonna call Jean-Paul from the van and see what he has to say for himself!"

With those words, he stomped out of the house and down the darkening dirt road toward the van.
Hannibal looked around the place with mild curiosity and walked toward the stairs that lead to the bedrooms.
B.A had already limped his way to the couch and settled down with a low grunt. He'd clearly planned on sitting there for the rest of the night. Folding his hands behind his head and carefully lowering his healing leg on the old and dusty coffee table, he closed his eyes to regain some energy.
Murdock decided to stay close to the colonel (to stay far away from the bear rug) and followed him upstairs to investigate the rest of the house.
Hannibal opened the first of the three doors that led into what looked like an old children's bedroom. There were a cabinet and a rocking horse in a corner, and against one of the walls, he noted a bunk bed.

"Dibs on the top bunk!" Murdock howled enthusiastically. His weariness forgotten, he rushed passed Hannibal, climbed the ladder, and landed belly first on the dusty blankets which immediately prompted an impressive sneezing fit.

"It's all yours, captain," Hannibal chuckled as he turned around to examine the other rooms and leaving the captain alone with his new friend 'Mr. Bunky'.

The other rooms were, like the children's room old, dim-lit and dusty. The wallpaper had faded through the years and came loose around the edges. The beds and furniture were covered in dust, and the floors showed signs of rot.
While going through the rooms, Hannibal couldn't help but feel slightly amused about the situation. The house was in bad shape and by the looks of it, Face had been the one being fooled for a change.
In the third bedroom, Hannibal paused at a wall that was decorated with antique frames that held old black & white and sometimes full-color photographs.
The old cabin was still covered with traces of the old family that used to live in this house that was so perfectly situated in the middle of nowhere.
Hannibal stepped forward and peered at the mounted pictures. There were multiple pictures of a family. A mother, father, and a young boy.
For some reason, one photograph seemed to interest the colonel in particular. It was the black and white image of an elderly lady that reminded him of his own late grandmother. The lady looked solemn and unsmiling which was typical for that period of time. Her white hair was fixed in a tight bun, her clothes looked impeccable, and for reasons unknown to Hannibal, she held an ax in her hands. It seemed disturbing...
Staring at the photo, Hannibal suddenly sensed a cold breeze that made the hair on the back of his neck rise. It was like someone was standing close behind him while blowing gently in his ear. He whirled around to find... nothing.
The white-haired commander blinked for a second and then shrugged.
It must've been the wind. He figured the house ought to be rather draughty after years of neglect.
As he walked out of the room, he thought he heard Murdock's voice talking animatedly with something or someone in the children's room.

"He's probably talking to Billy his invisible dog again," Hannibal shrugged.

As this was normal behavior for the pilot, he didn't give it a second thought and decided to go downstairs to check the rest of the house.
He discovered an old bathroom that was situated close to the kitchen. To his surprise, the kitchen seemed fully equipped with all the cookery utensils a person could wish for.
Suddenly his eye fell on a black painted door hidden in the back of the kitchen. As he approached it, it seemed to lure him into opening it. Hannibal felt an unresistable desier to look inside. As he reached for the handle, he tried to open the door. It seemed to be stuck, however. The Colonel pushed harder, but the door still didn't budge.
"Well whaddayaknow," Hannibal mumbled. He accepted the challenge and pushed his shoulder with all his might against the door.
With some effort, it finally started to move. Slowly, and with loud creaking noises of old wood being bent, the door jimmied open revealing what was hidden behind it.
Again, it was as if the house was letting out a sigh and a shudder, and this time it was the colonel who noticed it.
The room was pitch black.
Hannibal searched the walls and found a switch. Turning on the light, the scene of the place gave him instant goosebumps. The windows were boarded up with old wooden boards, and the floor and part of the walls were covered with dark stains that reminded him unpleasantly of blood. On the walls, lined up in a row, he found a selection of axes, hammers and other woodworking tools. There was a clutter of broken furniture stacked away in a corner together with a pile of paint buckets, brushes, and bottles of brush cleaners. Hannibal figured this room was once used for repairs amongst other things...
Even though the colonel wasn't a cowardly man, he didn't like the feeling that radiated from the room. Something wasn't right about it. Hannibal turned around, switched off the light, and closed the door firmly behind him just as Face barged into the house again.

"This is outrage!" the conman bellowed when he entered the living room with a furious expression on his handsome features. His face was slightly flushed from frustration.

"What's the news, lieutenant?" Hannibal said while settling himself with his back against the kitchen counter and folding his arms over his chest.
Face stood there fuming with his hands on his hips and looked around at the colonel.

"I'll tell you what's the news!" he exclaimed while fiercely brushing a hand through his hair. "It's bad, Hannibal. It's terrible!"

Hannibal frowned at the conman, knowing perfectly well that his lieutenant could be a bit over-dramatic at times.
Face started pacing the room while kicking a cloud of dust bunnies out of his way.
B.A, who'd opened his eyes halfway, followed his team-mate from his spot on the sofa with a slightly irritated expression on his face. Here we go again...

"I tried to make contact with Jean-Paul," Face started. "But I couldn't make the call! And you wanna know why?!" He asked, while his blue eyes looked back at the colonel who patiently waited for the conman to release his anger.

"Apparently, we are SO far from civilization that I can't even make a simple phone call to set things straight. The car phone is useless. I couldn't even make a connection. And the worst part is that it's getting dark quickly. So moving on into the pitch black darkness in search for another place to stay would be out of the question in this area."

"Quite right," Hannibal nodded while noting the growing darkness outside.

He paused briefly while glancing at B.A while making a quick assessment of his condition. The big guy looked weary and needed his rest, though Hannibal was smart enough not to mention it to the sergeant, knowing very well that the man would immediately deny it.

"Okay. I guess that settles it then." He finally said with an airy voice.

"It's too dark to drive through an area we're not familiar with. Which means we'll have to stay here for the night," He added while searching his pockets for his unlit cigar and sticking it back in his mouth again.

Face groaned while looking around the house in dismay.
B.A simply grunted in agreement. He wasn't going to admit it to anyone, but he felt exhausted. There wouldn't be any more driving tonight if it was up to him.
Hannibal approached his frustrated lieutenant and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"I suggest we bring in the groceries and try and settle down for the night. I don't think this house has been habituated for a while. So we won't intrude on anyone's privacy, hopefully..."

Face made a scoffing sound but nodded while folding his arms in dismay and staring at the toes of his shiny designer shoes.

"Murdock, are you coming? We've decided to stay!" Hannibal bellowed from the bottom of the staircase to the lanky pilot who still seemed to be immersed in a conversation with someone in the children's room. Hannibal could hear the pilot stop talking in midsentence. There was a pause and then a: 'Comin' Colonel!" before the lanky man dashed out of the bedroom and hurried down the stairs.

"Who were you talking to?" Hannibal asked with mild curiosity.

"What are you talkin' about?" Murdock said. He looked embarrassed as he passed the colonel while pulling the rim of his hat over his eyes.

Hannibal frowned at the lanky man. Murdock's denial seemed weird and out of character, and apparently, he didn't want to talk about it.
Hannibal scrutinized the pilot who obviously tried to ignore him and had settled himself on the sofa next to B.A. The bulky sergeant observed the pilot with wary eyes while mentally preparing himself for a lot of jibber jabber. But...
None came.
To his surprise, Murdock just sat down quietly while pulling a comic book from his jacket to read. B.A looked up at Hannibal with raised eyebrows. In response, Hannibal raised his shoulders and shrugged at his sergeant to communicate his own bewilderment.
Murdock was still recovering from moderate head trauma, and although he seemed to be making quick progress, he'd been more quiet and forgetful than usual. And even though he tried his best to hide it, he seemed a bit short-fused too. The doctor had assured them that the headaches and mood swings were likely to disappear over time, but he clearly needed some more time to heal.
Dismissing the uneasy feeling that was building up in his chest, Hannibal decided to let it go and cut his captain some slack.
All was fine...Nothing was wrong...


Soon the team had taken the groceries and their duffel bags from the van and settled themselves into the old cabin.
Murdock claimed the top bunk bed in the children's room, Face and Hannibal both chose one of the bedrooms upstairs and B.A had volunteered for the couch since he didn't fancy staggering up and down the stairs with his painful leg.
Then Murdock cooked them all a meal which he called 'Murdocki's Spaghetti ala di meat-a-di-balla', and Hannibal had gathered some dry wood for the fireplace to warm up the cold room. To B.A's great relief, they'd moved the bear rug out of sight because Murdock kept leaping and dancing around it with girly screams when he got too near.
Maybe it wasn't as luxurious as Face would've liked, but the conman had to (grudgingly) agree that it wasn't exactly uncomfortable either.
The gloomy appearance of the room seemed to have improved a little in the warm light of the fire.
With their bellies full, and their feet warmed up at the fireplace, the team finally felt relaxed.
Hannibal observed his men while peacefully smoking his cigar.
Face sat opposite him, staring sleepily into the fire, apparently deeply lost in deep thoughts while sipping from a glass of wine.
Murdock, who'd settled on the sofa next to B.A with his comic book, had fallen asleep and had slowly slumped down against the bulky shoulder of the mechanic who pretended not to have noticed while drinking a glass of milk and reading the manual of a recently purchased car radio for the van.
B.A rubbed his eyes and yawned, which triggered Hannibal into a yawn as well.
It was when Face almost dropped his glass of wine in a moment of dozing off that Hannibal decided it was time for all of them to hit the sack.
B.A carefully nudged Murdock awake. The pilot started with a whimper and opened his eyes in shock. He blinked hard and for a moment, his eyes seemed to lock onto something in front of him that only he could see. He looked positively flustered while following its moves.
It took him a couple of seconds before he realized that the guys were staring at him and he quickly composed himself while pretending to reach for his comic book which had fallen to the floor.

"Time to turn in, captain. Your bunk is awaiting," Hannibal said, frowning slightly at the pilot's behavior.

Murdock nodded without looking at any of the guys.
Then, almost as if he was sleepwalking, he stood up and without a word, he made his way up the stairs into the room with his recently acquired bunk bed.
Hannibal watched him go with a thoughtful expression on his face but said nothing.

"He's just tired," Face said with a consoling pat on Hannibal's shoulder as he picked up his bag with toiletries.

"I guess..," Hannibal said pensively. He'd noticed B.A's eyes following Murdock too. The pilot had disappeared into his room.

"By the way, If you don't mind, I'm gonna wash up quickly," Face said.

Before waiting for an answer, he rushed into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.
With a sigh, Hannibal turned to B.A.

"I guess that means we'll have to wait a little longer. Are you in for some good ol' game of gin rummy, sergeant?"

"Only if you don't cheat," B.A grunted while repositioning his leg on a cushion.

"Ah come on, B.A! Would I ever do such a thing?"

B.A simply showed his commander a deep scowl which was as good as any answer.
Hannibal chuckled mischievously as he grabbed the deck of cards.


More than half an hour later, Hannibal made his way upstairs in his nightwear, welcoming some serious shut-eye.
Face had finally vacated the bathroom (giving Hannibal and B.A the opportunity to wash up as well) and had retreated to one of the bedrooms upstairs.
B.A made himself comfy with a sleeping bag and some random pillows on the sofa and the colonel wished him goodnight.
Halfway the stairs, the colonel suddenly heard voices again. Wait...voices? Plural?
He thought he recognized the soft sound of Murdock's voice. But he was sure he heard another voice as well. It sounded like ... a child?

As Hannibal reached the landing the voices suddenly stopped. The colonel noticed that the door to Murdock's room was half-open. He knew the pilot preferred an open door when he slept alone, simply because he felt safer that way. And he always had a nightlight with him so he would immediately see where he was if he woke up.
Hannibal peeked around the door and saw Murdock's too tall frame lying on top of the bunk bed. His feet stuck out over the edge, and his sleeping face was ghostly illuminated by the small beam of the lit flashlight that lay next to his pillow. He was still fully dressed and hadn't even bothered to take off his shoes.
Hannibal shook his head in wonder. That wasn't Murdock's usual bedtime routine.
From his position at the door, Hannibal's eyes scanned the rest of the room, checking every corner and recognizing the silhouettes of the dusty old cabinet and the rocking horse. Except for the furniture and toys, the room was empty.
The colonel ridiculed himself. What was he thinking? Of course, Murdock was alone... How could there be anybody else in this house than his men?

Checking the room over once more, Hannibal slowly moved his gaze back to Murdock's face and almost jumped out of his skin.
The pilot's coffee black eyes were wide open and staring back at the colonel with intent.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?" Hannibal apologized while quickly recovering from his fright.

"Was I sleeping?" Murdock asked, seemingly confused.

"Who were you talking to?" Hannibal asked.

"Was I talking?" Murdock replied hazily. He frowned and his eyes strayed away toward the rocking horse.

Hannibal looked at the horse again, then back at his captain.

"Never mind, kid," Hannibal said. "Go back to sleep."

Murdock closed his eyes again. Hannibal gave him one more searching look and then decided it had just been his imagination.
He was tired, and Murdock had probably been talking in his sleep just now. It wasn't that uncommon.
But when Hannibal turned around to leave the room, he didn't see Murdock opening his eyes again.
The lanky man stared after the colonel with a dark and worried expression on his face.
The rocking horse started rocking ever so slightly.

TBC