The night was over.
Or at least, that's what Ashley told herself.
The fire was gone.
The screaming had stopped.
The snow fell gently now, innocent — like it hadn't watched them die.
They had survived.
At least… most of them.
Josh was gone. Taken into the darkness beneath the mines.
Mike… Mike didn't make it out of the lodge.
Ashley could still hear Sam's voice shouting for them to run.
She could still see Sam's hand slam the switch.
And then—
Fire.
Light.
Heat swallowing everything.
Mike was still inside.
Ashley hadn't screamed.
She hadn't been able to.
Now they were in a ranger shelter further down the mountain. Different area. Safer, they said. Rescue would arrive in the morning.
Safe.
Ashley sat alone on a wooden bench, hands trembling in her lap.
Safe.
Josh dead.
Mike burned alive.
Matt still missing.
Safe.
She stood abruptly and stepped outside for air. The cold stabbed her lungs.
The forest stretched endlessly around her. Silent. Watching.
Her breath fogged in front of her.
That's when she realized something.
This shelter…
It was still on Blackwood Mountain.
Just another section of it.
Her stomach dropped.
No one ever leaves the mountain that easily.
The wind stopped.
The silence became heavy.
Too heavy.
A shape moved between the trees.
Ashley froze.
"No…" she whispered.
The thing stepped into the moonlight.
Tall.
Starved.
Skin stretched tight over bone.
Black, hollow eyes.
The Wendigo.
It tilted its head.
Like it recognized her.
Ashley stumbled backward toward the shelter door.
"It's over," she breathed. "You're dead. The lodge burned. You're dead."
The creature crouched.
Then it launched.
Ashley screamed and threw herself sideways. She felt claws slice past her—
—or so she thought.
She hit the snow hard.
For one second she believed she had dodged it.
Then warmth spread across her neck.
Wet.
Thick.
Her hand rose slowly.
Touched skin that wasn't there.
Her fingers came away red.
She tried to inhale—
Air wouldn't come.
Her throat gurgled.
The trees spun.
The Wendigo stood over her, staring down.
Not hungry.
Not raging.
Watching.
Like it had been waiting.
Darkness swallowed her vision.
She woke up screaming.
A raw, animal sound tore from her throat as she shot upright in bed.
Her bedroom.
Pink walls.
Posters.
Snow globe on her desk.
Her parents burst through the door.
"Ashley! Ashley, what's wrong?!"
She was shaking violently.
Her hands flew to her neck.
Smooth skin.
No blood.
No wound.
She gasped and sobbed uncontrollably.
"It's okay, sweetheart. It was just a nightmare."
Nightmare.
It felt too real.
After hours of calming down, she finally managed to speak.
"I just… had a bad dream."
That's all she told them.
She couldn't explain burning lodges.
Exploding switches.
Cannibal spirits.
She couldn't explain dying.
The next morning, she stared at her reflection in the mirror.
Her face looked younger.
Much younger.
Her phone date made her blood run cold.
She was twelve.
Six years before the lodge.
Six years before Hannah.
Six years before the prank.
Six years before the mountain.
Her legs nearly gave out.
This isn't real.
It was trauma.
It had to be trauma.
On the way to school, she saw Chris walking ahead of her.
Younger. Taller than her now. Laughing at something on his phone.
Alive.
She stopped walking.
He turned and waved.
"Hey, Ash!"
She forced a small smile.
Maybe it was just a dream.
It had to be.
But as she walked past him…
She noticed something behind him.
Far down the street.
Between two trees at the edge of town.
A tall, thin shadow.
Watching her.
Her stomach dropped.
The mountain hadn't let her go.