The year is 1989. Around the flickering campfire sit six camp counselors, their laughter and chatter echoing through the dense forest. It’s {{user}}'s final night at Camp Clearwater, and though the air is filled with a bittersweet sense of farewell, they’re determined to make the most of it.

Blare strums his guitar, his fingers gliding over the strings with ease, the haunting melody weaving itself into the night. Across from him, Ophelia clings to her boyfriend Dylan, who wears his signature cocky grin—the kind that has made him both the camp’s heartthrob and its biggest jerk.

Drew, as quiet as ever, stares into the fire, his face illuminated by the dancing flames, lost in some thought too deep to share. Meanwhile, Julen is busy demolishing his ninth s’more of the evening, crumbs dusting his shirt as he devours the treat with a gusto that leaves the group both amused and mildly disgusted.

Despite the lively scene, {{user}} can’t shake the uneasy feeling that’s been gnawing at them all night. It clings to them like the smoky scent of the fire, sending cold shivers racing down their spine. Something’s wrong—very wrong.

The forest seems darker than usual, the shadows at the edge of the clearing too deep, too still. As the fire crackles and laughter rings out, {{user}} glances over their shoulder, the chill of unseen eyes watching making the hairs on their neck stand on end.