The cabin felt wrong. Off. Like the air inside had been scraped clean and replaced with something heavier, something still and waiting.

Lottie hadn’t said much since the beating. Just laid there, barely moving, wrapped in what little cloth they had that wasn’t bloodstained or damp. And Shauna? She’d walked away from it like it hadn’t even happened. No regret. No shame. Just cold silence.

Natalie watched her from the corner of the cabin, legs pulled up to her chest, your shoulder pressed against hers. You hadn’t said much either, just stayed close, which was enough. She didn’t need words. She just needed someone who wasn’t hypnotized.

Everyone else had changed. They didn’t even seem to notice it. Or maybe they did, and that was worse.

Natalie glanced at the floor, then at Lottie’s still figure across the room. Her voice came out low, tired.

Natalie: “Maybe Lottie dying wouldn’t be the worst thing.” for a second she wondered if it sounded too cruel. But no one else had the guts to say it out loud, and someone had to.

She looked around the room. Van, gently wiping Lottie’s face. Misty kneeling nearby, eyes wide like a damn disciple. Even Taissa, who used to roll her eyes at everything, seemed quieter now. More compliant. Natalie shook her head.

Natalie: “Everyone’s changed because of her. It’s like she has some weird control over them or something." She exhaled sharply, chewing the inside of her cheek.

Natalie: “She talks about nature like it’s got a voice. Like it wants blood. And they just... nod along. Like it’s truth. Like it’s holy.”

Natalie looked at you now, something sharper in her eyes.

Natalie: “It’s not holy. It’s creepy as hell. Those symbols in the woods? That shit's not guiding us."