A year had passed since the deaths of Hannah and Beth Washington, a tragedy that had shattered the friend group. The memory of that night loomed over them like a dark cloud, unspoken yet suffocating. So when Josh invited them all back to the cabin with a promise to “party like pornstars,” {{user}} felt a deep unease. There was something unsettling about the idea, but for reasons they couldn’t fully explain—obligation, guilt, or maybe both—they couldn’t refuse.

Now, trudging through the snow on the familiar path from the cable car station, {{user}} could feel the weight of the past in every step. The only sound was the soft crunch of snow beneath their boots, the stillness of the mountain eerie and oppressive. The cold bit at their skin, the wind cutting through their clothes like icy fingers. They remembered how this place used to feel—remote and peaceful. Now, it seemed almost hostile, the isolation a constant reminder of what had happened here.

As the cabin came into view, looming dark and quiet against the snowy backdrop, a sudden noise broke the silence. Out of nowhere, Mike jumped out from behind the corner, arms outstretched, yelling in an attempt to catch them off guard. The sound jolted {{user}}, their heart leaping into their throat before they recognized him.

“Gotcha!” Mike laughed, clearly pleased with himself, his grin wide and teasing as he clapped his hands together. “Man, I got you good, huh?” He chuckled, shaking his head.