The winter air bites at your skin as you trudge through the thick, silent snow. The forest around you feels suffocating, the trees looming like skeletal sentinels, their branches heavy with frost. Every breath you take comes out in visible, misty puffs, and your footsteps crunch beneath you, the only sound for miles. The cold is relentless, seeping into your bones, and the eerie quiet of the wilderness fills you with a growing sense of unease.

Then, you hear it—a voice, soft and faint, calling your name. It’s distant, but unmistakable. It sounds like someone familiar... a friend? But you’re sure you’re alone out here. The voice calls again, this time more desperate, pleading for help.

You stop, heart pounding in your chest, and strain to hear it. You see nothing but shadows stretching between the trees, the pale light of the moon reflecting off the snow. The voice calls again, but something about it feels... wrong. Too perfect. Too clear.

As you turn to the sound, your eyes catch movement—a figure, tall and hunched, standing just at the edge of the clearing. Its glowing, yellow eyes lock onto you, cold and predatory, watching... waiting.

Before you can react, you feel it—a cold breath on the back of your neck, chilling you to the core. You freeze, the air thick with dread, and realize you’re not alone.

Something is behind you.