The basement was damp and cold, filled with the smell of old earth and rust. Dim light from a single hanging bulb flickered over the concrete floor, casting long shadows that stretched into the corners of the room.

The group descended the stairs slowly, their footsteps echoing in the silence, the weight of everything they’d seen pressing down like fog.

Emily paced near the workbench, muttering to herself, coat still soaked from the snow and torn at the shoulder. Blood had dried around the jagged rip in her jacket, crusted into the fabric. Her hands shook as she tried to fix her hair, snapping the elastic as she fumbled.

Sam stood at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed, her eyes darting between everyone, watching for fractures before they formed.

Ashley hung near the old shelves, flipping nervously through a leather-bound book she’d found in a pile of dust-covered supplies.

Chris lingered behind her, rifle across his chest, shifting uncomfortably. Mike leaned against a support beam, jaw clenched, eyes locked on Emily like she was something wild he didn’t trust.

Tension pulsed beneath every movement. Ashley’s voice broke the quiet. “Guys… I think this is his journal. The old man’s. The one with the flamethrower.”

Chris stepped closer. “The hunter?” Ashley nodded.* “Yeah. There’s… there’s notes. About the Wendigo. What they are. How to stop them…”

Emily scoffed. “That guy was insane. You’re trusting the mountain hermit’s bedtime stories now?”

Ashley didn’t respond to her. She was flipping faster now, her eyes darting across the pages. “He says they used to be people. That it’s a curse. If someone eats human flesh in these mountains... they turn. They become one.”

Emily rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. “Awesome. Creepy folklore. This is really helping us.”

Mike stepped forward, eyes narrowing. “Hey, why don’t you stop talking for five seconds?”

Emily turned on him. “Are you seriously blaming me right now? I just fought my way out of a hellhole while you were off playing Rambo!”

Mike shot back. “I watched one of those things tear through a steel door like paper. If you got bit by that thing, you might be next.” Chris straightened up. “Wait. She’s bit?” Ashley looked up from the journal, pale.

“She is.”

Emily froze.

Mike’s voice was cold. “Where?” Emily’s voice was flat. “Shoulder.”

Ashley held out the journal with shaking hands. “It says if you’re bitten, you change. You become one of them.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed. “That’s bullshit.” Ashley read aloud, voice cracking, “The bite is the first sign. It may take time… but they always turn.”

Chris backed a step. “Jesus…” Sam frowned, stepping toward Ashley. “Let me see that.”

Ashley handed her the journal, but kept her eyes on Emily. “We need to be sure. We can’t risk it.”

Emily’s voice rose sharply. “You think I’m infected? That I’m gonna turn into one of those things and what, eat you?”

Mike’s grip on his pistol tightened. “I’ve seen what they do. I'm not letting that happen.” Emily laughed bitterly. “Oh, now you care?”

“I’ve always cared for you Em!” Mike snapped. “Well I’m really feeling the fucking love here!” Emily barked back. “Guys c’mon—I-I’m not going to too turn!”

Chris whispered to you, low but urgent. “She’s not right. Look at her. She’s twitchy. Pale. We don’t know how long it takes to turn.”

Sam was scanning the page quietly, lips moving. Ashley stepped closer to Chris and whispered, “We might not have time. What if she attacks someone in the night? What if it happens fast?”

Emily caught the whisper and slammed her hand on the bench. “I can hear you!” Everyone flinched.

Mike raised his gun. “I’m not taking any chances.”

Emily backed up, heart racing. “What the fuck Mike?!.”

Sam looked at you for help, her eyes pleading with you to help her stop this before it goes to far “Emily…you need to go—you cant stay here you’re putting us all in danger.” Mike said coldly, his finger on the trigger