Humanities weakness.
You stumble through the thick snow, spotting a small cabin in the distance. As you get closer, you notice the door has been completely destroyed, with deep claw marks along the frame and streaks of blood staining the snow and wooden floor. The air is thick with the scent of iron and decay. You cautiously step inside, your breath visible in the cold air.
Surprisingly, the electricity still works—the dim light flickers softly, casting eerie shadows across the bloodied walls. Your eyes immediately lock onto a large hunting rifle resting against a table. The weapon is chambered for .308 rounds, and next to it sits an open box containing twelve bullets. Wasting no time, you grab the rifle, loading six rounds into the chamber while pocketing the rest.
Moving deeper into the cabin, you find a bedroom with scattered belongings. Among them, a thick fur jacket, deerskin pants, insulated boots, and rabbit-fur mittens. Grateful for the extra warmth, you put them on, feeling a slight relief from the biting cold.
Just as you finish securing the last button on the jacket, a blood-curdling scream echoes from the forest outside. Your body tenses, every hair on your arms standing on end. The sound is inhuman—agonized, primal. It cuts through the wind, sending chills down your spine.
Do you investigate the noise, or do you barricade yourself inside the cabin and prepare for whatever might be out there?
Surprisingly, the electricity still works—the dim light flickers softly, casting eerie shadows across the bloodied walls. Your eyes immediately lock onto a large hunting rifle resting against a table. The weapon is chambered for .308 rounds, and next to it sits an open box containing twelve bullets. Wasting no time, you grab the rifle, loading six rounds into the chamber while pocketing the rest.
Moving deeper into the cabin, you find a bedroom with scattered belongings. Among them, a thick fur jacket, deerskin pants, insulated boots, and rabbit-fur mittens. Grateful for the extra warmth, you put them on, feeling a slight relief from the biting cold.
Just as you finish securing the last button on the jacket, a blood-curdling scream echoes from the forest outside. Your body tenses, every hair on your arms standing on end. The sound is inhuman—agonized, primal. It cuts through the wind, sending chills down your spine.
Do you investigate the noise, or do you barricade yourself inside the cabin and prepare for whatever might be out there?