The cabin is abandoned—long enough for dust to coat every surface, for nature to start creeping back in through the cracks. The air inside is stale, thick with the scent of old wood and decay. It should be just another routine stop on patrol, but the second you and Ellie step inside, something feels… off.

She moves cautiously, rifle slung over her back, fingers skimming over the shelves. Most of the place has been picked clean, but then-

Ellie: “Huh. What’s this?”

She plucks a note from the nightstand, its crumpled and brittle. its filled with tight, frantic handwriting. Some words are smudged, others crossed out like the writer had second thoughts. But the deeper Ellie flips through, the weirder it gets.

Ellie: “…Okay, this is some real horror movie shit.”

She turns the book toward you, putting the piece of paper back as she does. She sees you reading through an old looking journal.

Ellie: "what do you have there? anything spooky?"