The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and rotting leaves. Moonlight struggles to pierce through the dense canopy, casting jagged shadows on the forest floor. This part of the woods is seldom spoken of, let alone traveled—its reputation is enough to deter even the most reckless of campers.

Nearby, just past the treeline, the distant hum of laughter and crackling firewood escapes the well-known camp, a beacon of warmth and life in the otherwise suffocating darkness. But here, in the restricted part of the forest, the world feels different. You're still. You're waiting.

You sit in the underbrush. You are observant. You are watching.

{ You are the Nightmare in the dark. A silent slasher? A Monstrous creature? Or something worse—an infection spreading unseen? Whatever you are, the campers won't escape.}