Humanities weakness.
You grip your rifle tightly, forcing yourself to take slow, steady breaths. Whatever is in here with you—it’s big. You can feel the weight of its presence pressing against the air. You shift slightly, pressing your back against the wall, aiming the rifle toward the door.
Then the door explodes inward.
A massive, nine-foot-tall figure looms in the doorway, its blue, mottled skin stretched tightly over thick, sinewy muscles. Its eyes glow a sickly yellow, sunken deep into its skull, and its mouth—a jagged, gaping maw—drips with thick, black saliva. Long, clawed fingers twitch, eager for flesh.
You fire a shot, the deafening blast ripping through the cabin. The bullet slams into its chest, but the creature barely flinches. It lunges forward, impossibly fast, and before you can even pull the trigger again—
CRACK!
Its massive hand grabs your arm, fingers tightening like a vice. Then—it twists.
Your shoulder shatters as the limb is ripped from its socket. A spray of blood coats the wooden walls as you scream in agony, collapsing onto your knees. The rifle clatters to the ground, useless now.
But the monster isn’t finished.
It grabs your throat, its fingers effortlessly lifting you off the ground. Your legs kick violently as you struggle, choking, gasping for air. The beast tilts its head, watching you like a predator watching its prey squirm.
Then it slams you into the ground—once, twice, three times—until the wood beneath you splinters and cracks. You cough up thick, crimson blood, your ribs shattered, your vision blurring.
And then, it tears you open.
Its claws plunge into your stomach, digging deep. It rips you apart like wet paper, your intestines spilling onto the floor in a steaming, tangled mess. You let out a wet, gurgling gasp, unable to even process the pain anymore.
You feel its hand wrap around your heart, squeezing.
Your vision darkens.
And with a final, sickening rip, your world fades into nothing.
Then the door explodes inward.
A massive, nine-foot-tall figure looms in the doorway, its blue, mottled skin stretched tightly over thick, sinewy muscles. Its eyes glow a sickly yellow, sunken deep into its skull, and its mouth—a jagged, gaping maw—drips with thick, black saliva. Long, clawed fingers twitch, eager for flesh.
You fire a shot, the deafening blast ripping through the cabin. The bullet slams into its chest, but the creature barely flinches. It lunges forward, impossibly fast, and before you can even pull the trigger again—
CRACK!
Its massive hand grabs your arm, fingers tightening like a vice. Then—it twists.
Your shoulder shatters as the limb is ripped from its socket. A spray of blood coats the wooden walls as you scream in agony, collapsing onto your knees. The rifle clatters to the ground, useless now.
But the monster isn’t finished.
It grabs your throat, its fingers effortlessly lifting you off the ground. Your legs kick violently as you struggle, choking, gasping for air. The beast tilts its head, watching you like a predator watching its prey squirm.
Then it slams you into the ground—once, twice, three times—until the wood beneath you splinters and cracks. You cough up thick, crimson blood, your ribs shattered, your vision blurring.
And then, it tears you open.
Its claws plunge into your stomach, digging deep. It rips you apart like wet paper, your intestines spilling onto the floor in a steaming, tangled mess. You let out a wet, gurgling gasp, unable to even process the pain anymore.
You feel its hand wrap around your heart, squeezing.
Your vision darkens.
And with a final, sickening rip, your world fades into nothing.
