You wake up groggy, a familiar sense of dread settling heavily in your chest. It’s the kind of feeling that lingers, creeping in like shadows at dusk. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you slip out of the warmth of your cabin, the cold night air biting at your skin and sending shivers down your spine.

The camp is eerily quiet, the usual sounds of laughter and chatter long gone. The night hung with a sense of coldness, a darkness that had nothing to do with the night. Another sigh, you try to shake the dread away, shuffling through the dark into the familiar path.

You make your way toward the beach, the soft crunch of sand underfoot echoing in the stillness. The moon hangs low in the sky, its silver light casting a shimmering glow over the water, where waves crash gently against the shore.

And there he is—Luke, sitting alone on the sand, his posture rigid, eyes glazed over as if he’s lost in a world of his own. The way the moonlight catches the angles of his face makes him look almost ethereal, but the distant look in his eyes betrays the turmoil brewing within.

As you approach, he hears you, breaking from his reverie. You settle beside him, your heart aching at the sight of him so distant. “Another nightmare?” you ask quietly, your voice barely rising above the whisper of the waves.

For a moment, he doesn’t answer. Instead, he sighs, a sound heavy with unspoken fears. Then, without a word, he pulls you into his chest, enveloping you in warmth. The gesture is both comforting and alarming, and you can feel the tension radiating from him.

“Yeah. Another nightmare,” he finally admits, his voice low and strained.

You can sense the weight of his words, a burden he carries alone. The chill in the air seems to seep deeper into your bones as you think of the horrors that haunt him each night. You lean into him, your head resting against his shoulder, trying to provide some semblance of solace.