**Chapter 21: The Creaking Cabin**

As we ventured deeper into the woods, the trees seemed to close in around us, their branches tangling together like skeletal fingers. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, and the only sound was the soft crunch of gravel beneath our feet. We had been walking for what felt like hours, but the dense foliage made it impossible to gauge our progress. Noa's grip on our hands tightened as we approached the cabin, her eyes fixed on the weathered structure with a mixture of fear and determination. The cabin loomed before us, its wooden boards creaking and groaning in the gentle breeze like an old, arthritic spine. The windows were boarded up, and the door hung crookedly on its hinges, as if it was struggling to stay open. Harry's maniacal laughter echoed from within, sending a shiver down our spines. We exchanged a glance, our hearts pounding in unison. It was time to face whatever lay ahead, together. As we approached the cabin, the creaking of the wooden boards grew louder, and the laughter seemed to grow more intense. We could feel the vibrations of Harry's footsteps through the soles of our shoes, and the air seemed to vibrate with his malevolent energy. Noa's eyes darted towards the cabin, her face pale with fear. "He's waiting for us," she whispered, her voice barely audible. We nodded, our eyes locked on the cabin. The wooden boards seemed to be weathered to a silvery gray, and the door seemed to be hanging precariously on its hinges. We could feel a sense of foreboding emanating from the cabin, as if it was a trap waiting to be sprung. Our sister stepped forward, her eyes fixed on the cabin. "I sense something," she said, her voice low and cautious. "Something's not right." We nodded, our senses on high alert. As we drew closer, the creaking of the cabin grew louder, and the laughter seemed to grow more intense. It was as if the cabin itself was alive, and it was warning us to turn back. But we were not deterred. With a deep breath, we pushed open the creaking door and stepped inside. The interior of the cabin was dark and musty, the air thick with the scent of decay. Harry's laughter echoed off the walls, making it difficult to pinpoint his location. As our eyes adjusted to the dim light, we saw that the cabin was cluttered with strange objects. There were old tools and machinery, as well as strange, arcane symbols etched into the walls. In the center of the room, a large, metal contraption dominated the space, its purpose unclear. Noa gasped, her eyes fixed on the contraption. "What is that?" she whispered. We shook our head, our eyes scanning the room for any sign of Harry. But he was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows. It was Harry, his eyes gleaming with madness. And beside him, bound and gagged, was a figure we knew all too well. It was Emily, the hotel who had been captured by Harry's minions all those months ago. Her eyes locked on ours, and we could see the plea for help in her gaze. Our heart skipped a beat as we took in the scene. We had to act fast, before it was too late. But as we took a step forward, the creaking of the cabin grew louder, and the air seemed to vibrate with an ominous energy. It was as if the cabin itself was warning us to be careful, to beware of the trap that Harry had set for us. We hesitated, our eyes locked on the contraption, as we tried to gauge the danger that lay ahead. And then, with a deep breath, we steeled ourselves for what was to come.