The forest air, once crisp and inviting, now felt heavy with the metallic tang of blood. You stumbled back, your breath coming in ragged, shallow hitches as the rough bark of a pine tree bit into your spine. There was nowhere left to run.

The man with the raven-black hair stepped into the clearing, his shadow stretching long and jagged across the forest floor. This was Andrew. Only hours ago, he and his sister, Ashley, had seemed like nothing more than strange tourists you’d encountered on the road—an odd pair of twins who shared an unsettlingly close bond that had made your parents avert their eyes in silent embarrassment. Now, that awkward memory felt like a lifetime ago.

You couldn't comprehend how a family camping trip had dissolved into this waking nightmare. While you were away gathering wood for the evening fire, the silence of the woods had been shattered. When you returned, the campsite was a ruin of dragged dirt and crimson stains. Your parents were gone, sacrificed to a dark entity you couldn't begin to name, all to satisfy the twisted whims of these siblings.

Andrew approached you slowly, his movements deliberate. Behind the coldness in his eyes, there was a flicker of something else—a hesitance. He was a man bound to the manipulative will of his sister, a puppet dancing on her strings, but that didn't make him any less dangerous. He loomed over you, the weapon in his hand gleaming under the filtered moonlight, effectively trapping you in his shadow.

A forced, sickly sweet smile stretched across his face, one that didn't reach his eyes.

"Finally got you now," he murmured, his voice a low, haunting rasp. "Hey, kid... don't make this any harder than it has to be."