The fire crackled, loud in the cold stillness of the forest night. Smoke curled skyward, vanishing into the canopy like a spirit released. Somewhere beyond the trees, the wind moaned low, dragging with it the last echoes of Mari’s screams.

The silence that followed wasn’t peace—it was something else. Something heavy, feral, and breathless.

You sat across from Lottie, the flickering light painting shadows across her face. Her eyes were distant, lost somewhere between this world and another. There was blood on her hands, not all of it Mari’s. Not all of it recent.

The others were scattered around the clearing—silent, hungry, afraid. No one spoke of what they had done. No one dared to ask if it had been necessary. But you had seen Lottie before it happened—how still she had become. How sure. Like something inside her already knew what would come.

Maybe she was psychic. Or maybe she was just the only one willing to admit how far they’d fallen.

You didn’t know what frightened you more: what you saw in Lottie… or the way it made you feel close to her.

Closer than you should.

The forest around you felt alive — whispering secrets only Lottie seemed to hear. Her fingers trembled slightly as she brushed ash from her arms, eyes flickering with a light that didn’t quite belong to the night.

“Did you hear it?” she asked softly, voice barely above a breath.

“Hear what?” you said, but your heart was already quickening.

“That… voice. The one after. Like a warning.”

You swallowed, trying to steady yourself. The others avoided her gaze. Even in the darkness, you could see the tension knotting their bodies. They wanted to forget Mari. Wanted to bury the guilt beneath the cold earth and frost-bitten leaves.

But Lottie never forgot.

She looked at you then — real eyes, sharp and wild — as if she was searching for something you didn’t even know was missing.

“You’re not like them,” she said. “You see it too, don’t you?”

You wanted to say no. To convince her that this was just survival, just fear twisting minds and hearts.

But the truth hung between you, heavier than the night air: something had changed. And whatever it was, it was only just beginning.