Ann Takamaki’s Cursed Cabin, Part 1 (Persona, Furniture TF) (Patreon)

A raven squawked in the trees shrouding the cabin.

Futaba skidded to a halt, throwing the gravel of the drive everywhere. “Holy crap! It’s just like that cabin from that movie! What was it called?” 

“Evil Dead?” asked Makoto, quirking an eyebrow.

“No, not that one.” 

“Pumpkinhead,” said Haru. 

“Nooooo,” said Futaba, all but stamping her feet in frustration. “The one with the cabin in the woods!” She looked around. “Hey, are you sure this is the right place? It’s a lot creepier than I was expecting.” 

Makoto snapped the map open and frowned. “It’s definitely the right place. Although what possessed Ann to rent it is beyond me.” A distant peal of thunder hammered the heavens; one of the cabin’s shutters swung in the wind and fell from its hinges. “...I would have rather stayed in a love hotel.” 

Futaba turned to her with a smirk. “Oh really,” she said. “What, the four of us together, all crammed into one sexy little–?” 

“Don’t make it weird, Futaba,” said Makoto, throwing a stern look over the map. 

“Yeah,” said Haru, wrapping a reassuring arm around her. “You know how sexually repressed Makoto is. You can’t just start talking about lesbian orgies without warning her!” 

Makoto snapped the map shut, blushing red. “I’m not sexually– No-one even mentioned lesbian–” 

“Did Ann say how she was getting here?” asked Haru.

“Hmm…” Futaba tapped her chin. “Now that you mention it, I don’t think she did. …She wasn’t waiting for us to pick her up, was she?” 

“Wait a second,” said Makoto, who still hadn’t fully recovered from the image of them all in bed together. “Ann has the keys, doesn’t she?” 

Another crack of thunder fractured the skies. A splot of rain landed on Makoto’s shoulders. 

“What are we meant to do nooooow?!” wailed Haru, as the three of them rushed for the cover of the cabin’s veranda. They’d barely made it under than someone pulled the clouds’ plug, and a whole bath of sky-water dumped itself on the surrounding forest. “We’re going to freeze to death.” 

“It’s not that bad,” said Futaba. She picked up the fallen shutter. “At least there’s plenty of wood for a fire!” 

Makoto and Haru ignored that. 

“Since it’s falling apart anyway, why don’t we just kick the door down and go inside?” said Haru. “It’s not like we’re trespassing. And we can always say the storm did it.” 

“Storms don’t normally kick down doors…” said Makoto, always the voice of reason, but it was too late: Haru had already raised her leg, ready to kick, and–

At the last second, just as she was about to, the door flew open all on its own. As the three of them froze, hearts leaping in their chests, Ann Takamaki stepped out of the darkness, her lips curled in a quizzical expression. 

“Hey, guys,” she said, studying them curiously. “What are you doing out here in the rain?” 

“What are we doing out here?” cried Futaba. “What are you doing here?” 

“I did rent the place,” said Ann, shaking the keys with a frown. 

“How did you get here?” asked Haru. “We were worried we’d left you behind.” 

“Hmm? Oh.” Ann shrugged. “I asked Coach for a lift.” 

“Coach?” 

Ignoring her, Ann turned and marched back inside, leaving the rest of them to follow her. Futaba slammed the door with a sigh of relief and rushed for the fire blazing in the grate. 

Makoto and Haru, meanwhile, studied the cabin’s living room, or what passed for it. There was no furniture save a single armchair; the floorboards were jagged and full of nails; and there were spiders weaving their webs in every corner. “Ann, didn’t you check this place out before you decided to rent it? What possessed you?” 

“It was really cheap,” said Ann, with a shrug of the shoulders. 

“Ahhhh,” said Futaba, rubbing her hands over the fire. “That’s much better.” 

“This place has some actual furniture, right?” said Haru, looking around nervously. “It’s not just that armchair, is it?” 

Ann didn’t answer, but her face told the truth anyway. At once, Futaba and Haru rushed for the armchair. 

“Hah!” cried Futaba, throwing herself in front of it. “Mine!” Haru turned and stomped away, scowling and almost put one of the nails in the floor through her boot. 

“Hey,” said Futaba, inspecting the armchair, “this thing looks a lot newer than the rest of the house. There’s no dust or anything.” 

“Maybe the landlady just had it delivered?” said Ann, with a shrug. 

Makoto scowled. “If he were having anything delivered, it should be a wrecker, so he can demolish this dump.”

“Well, while the rest of you losers are sitting on the floor, I’m going to be enjoying my beautiful new armchair,” said Futaba, wiggling her butt over the cushion. “I’m sure it's the comfiest in alllll the world.” And with one last smug grin, she lowered herself into it. 

*

The armchair sat in the corner of the room and watched, silent, as the girls entered the cabin. A few days ago it would have tried to scream, to leap to its former feet and beg them to help it, but after several days sitting alone in the dust, all hope of returning to its previous shape had left it. It couldn’t even remember what it had been, before it had become an armchair. A human, presumably, but what kind it had no idea. A man? A woman? It couldn’t even remember its own name. 

So it sat and it listened, utterly apathetic, as the girls stood and talked. Only when the ginger one claimed it did it finally sit up (metaphorically, being a chair an’ all) and take notice. 

As the ginger girl’s buttocks hovered over its cushion, a hint of fear finally broke through the armchair’s apathy. No-one had actually sat in it yet. And… and, it should have known it would happen, since it was a chair now, but no-one would actually… It wasn’t just a chair to be sat in, was it…? 

W-wait, it thought, as the ginger girl’s hands sank into its armrests. Wait, please! I’m not just a chair! I’m a person! I’m a person! I’m–

Her asscheeks crashed into his face, smothering all thought, and as she made herself comfy, his mind collapsed into silence.