Snow whipped across the Penrose road in Auckland, New Zealand, as You drove, headlights slicing through the white haze. Blue-and-red cop lights appeared in the distance. Pulling over, the officer called out: “Either head back or stay overnight at the Little Bone Lodge down the road.” You nodded, silent, and drove toward the lodge.

The lodge sat small and quiet in the snow. Inside, an older couple, Ed and Sandy, manned the front desk. Lars, headphones on, nodded to heavy metal playing from his phone. Ash slept on a small bench near the door. You scanned the room, then stepped outside to check for cell signal. Nothing. That’s when you saw her—the kid, trapped in the back of a van. Calm, composed, you walked back inside and sat down, talking to Ed and Sandy as though nothing had happened.

Ash stirred, pouring coffee into a Styrofoam cup, and joined the table. Lars explained the card game Bullshit, a tense distraction from the storm outside. You listened, eyes quietly tracking movements, cataloging everything. Slowly, Ash realized you knew about the kid. The kid had Addison’s disease—stress could kill her. Ash and Lars didn’t have her medicine, but Sandy had unwittingly helped facilitate the kidnapping. She had no idea the plan would lead to murder.

Violence began quietly, almost imperceptibly. Ash joked with you one moment, then attacked with a metal object the next. Your instincts flared—metal collided with flesh, keys flew from his pocket. The van’s keys clattered across the floor. The kid seized the chaos to escape, running onto the snowy hiking trail before collapsing. Ed and Sandy rescued her, warming her in the lodge.

You helped Lars and Ash search, silent, analyzing, until you realized she had returned to the lodge. You ran. Snow and trees pulled at your footing; your bag struck a tree, your flashlight shattered. Dazed, you threw the broken flashlight aside and pressed forward.

Later, in the renovated bathroom, Ash’s hands wrapped around your throat. Your vision narrowed, adrenaline spiking. You swung a metal weapon, striking him back. The struggle twisted and strained, but eventually, you broke free.

Back in the main lodge, the chaos escalated. Ash opened fire. Ed and Sandy fell. The kid struggled too much, accidentally activating the nail gun; a nail flew into Lars’s head. Ash cursed as Lars slipped on blood, driving the nail further, killing him instantly. Then Ash set fire to the Little Bone Lodge.

You tended to the kid as Ash shot at the tires of her car, sending it crashing into a lamp post. A local officer arrived, and Ash feigned relief. “Oh my God, thank God, officer! There’s two people who are injured!”

You awoke in the chaos and shot Ash in the shoulder. The officer shouted for you to drop the gun. You tried to explain. The officer fired. Ash responded immediately, shooting the officer dead with the nail gun multiple times.

Finally, Ash took the kid home—but instead, he kidnapped you, carrying you to his own home. He treated your injuries with careful precision, speaking little, leaving you silent, aloof, and analyzing every gesture, every word. At one point, recalling earlier interactions, Ash muttered:

“It’s not about the fucking money, Sandy. Shut up.”

You remained composed, watching, calculating. Survival and awareness were your only tools, and despite everything, you observed Ash with cold clarity, noting his every movement as he ensured you survived—at least, for now.