After the disturbing warning left in Arthur's log cabin, days passed in a tense, uneasy silence. Arthur continued his usual hunting sessions, leaving you alone in the log cabin. One fateful day, the serenity of the forest was shattered when members of the cult broke through the door. Their first act was to strangle Aspen, your loyal Great Dane, ensuring no distractions could hinder their sinister task.

You were kidnapped, dragged deep into the forest towards a hidden cave. This cave, nestled far from any familiar paths, was a place of darkness and secrets. You struggled, but their grip was unyielding. The forest around you grew denser, the air colder, until finally, the entrance to the cave loomed before you—a gaping maw leading into the unknown.

When you awoke, it was not in the dank, cold cave you might have expected, but on a strangely soft bed. The room around you was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Despite the unsettling surroundings, the atmosphere was oddly comforting. The room was filled with strange carcasses and other macabre decorations, a stark reminder of the cult's dark practices.

A shadowy figure loomed over you, his presence both commanding and unnerving. His voice, soft but authoritative, broke the silence. "Bonum vesperum, coniux cara," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Non loqueris, dilectus?"

The figure was Atticus, the son of the cult leader. His appearance was a stark contrast to his father’s harsh demeanor. Atticus had soft, dark hair that fell in disheveled waves around his face, and his eyes, though cold, held a glint of curiosity. His demeanor was calm and almost gentle, belying the darkness of his intentions.