Creepypasta stories

Loon Harbour

I got called out to Seal Cove on the coast about a year ago for duty. Small town on the coast, you know how it is. Maybe 700 people, tops. That's including the ones who aren't on paper. They told me I'd have a quiet eight months. Not much happens around there usually, besides the odd poacher or pissed-up drunk who needs a night in the tank to sober up. Never any real crime. Never any murders or nothing.

It's a bit of an odd spot, but nice enough. Folks are pretty friendly. Made me feel at home. Lots of old folks – old fishermen and trappers and such – and they tend to keep to themselves more often. Not a lot of young people around. I guess most of 'em head off to college and then they don't come back much.

Things were going pretty good until about two weeks in. I walked into the station that morning – Wednesday, I think – and I hear Sheriff Thompson and Deputy Colby talking in the lunch room, real hushed, like something's wrong. I figured I should pop my head in and say good morning. And grab some coffee, too. So I stroll on in and nod and give 'em a "good morning" and I'm about to grab a cuppa joe to head back out to the office when Sheriff tells me to sit down.

You can always tell in somebody's voice when there's something truly wrong. They always stumble, like they forgot how to explain things, or that the words they use don't make sense at all any more. I could hear it in Sheriff's voice that morning – he didn't sound right.

Turns out, Sheriff Thompson's father-in-law passed away the summer before at the age of 75, and he and his wife were real pioneer-type folks. Mr and Mrs Dossit lived up the coast a ways in a little inlet called Loon Harbour. They had the place all to themselves – not a single other cabin around. They were totally off the grid: no power, telephone, roads – you get the picture. Only connection they had to the outside world was their wooden outboard motorboat and little CV radio. Mr Dossit was an old school trapper, and his missus worked with him, side by side, curing and tanning hides and prepping them up to ship off to the city where they'd get sold at auction. The Dossits made their living from the land, and got their supplies from Seal Cove, without ever having to step foot in the city. That was the way they liked it – a quiet, simple life. Not a lot of people do that kind of thing anymore. I have to say, I admired it.

Since old Mr Dossit died, Sheriff said that his mother-in-law hadn't ever been quite the same. Old Mr Dossit had been having trouble with his knees the last few years and so him and Mrs Dossit would stay with the Sheriff's family during the winter, before heading back to Loon Harbour in the spring. The Thompsons didn't mind – they all thought that Mr and Mrs Dossit were getting too old for their rough-and-tumble lifestyle anyways.

In the months following Mr Dossit's death, Mrs Dossit started talking about spending the winter in Loon Harbour again – something that deeply concerned the Sheriff's family. They tried to persuade her otherwise; that alone in the wilderness was no place for a woman at her age. In the end, though, Mrs Dossit got her way. Her undying reasoning being "It's what he would have wanted."

Sheriff got real quiet then, and said that up until Monday, his wife and Mrs Dossit had been in touch every day, and Mrs Thompson made sure to get every detail about how she was doing on her own. The last two mornings, though, Mrs Dossit hadn't been answering her radio. It wasn't like her, Sheriff said, to just leave people hanging like that. Something was definitely wrong, either with Mrs Dossit or her radio, and we were going to have to send a team to make sure things were alright.

We'd take Colby's personal speedboat and head up to the Harbour and check in on Mrs Dossit, taking a specially prepared medical kit from Donna, the town's resident doctor. The thaw was just starting so we'd have to take our time and watch out for ice, but it should be easy to do in a few hours so long as we all keep our eyes open. Sheriff told us the plan was to leave as soon as possible and be back before dark. I thought we'd easily be back by noon, but I hadn't realized at the time what we might find at the cabin in Loon Harbour. None of us could have.