He’s probably gathering firewood. I picture him chopping trees in slow motion, like those lumberjack thirst traps that always go viral. I laugh under my breath and walk to the glass door. He already has my boots lined up by the threshold. I slip them on and step out into the cold, ready to tease him. But the second I see the figure, I freeze.
That’s not Andrik.
A masked man stands just beyond the tree line, watching me. He tilts his head—slowly, curiously, like he’s studying me.
“My, my. You’re getting bolder, Lumi.”
That voice... it’s not possible. It can’t be. My body locks in place.
“No…” I whisper.You’re hallucinating.
He steps back and runs. I don’t even think, I just chase after him.
“Wait—!” I shout. “Stop!”
He’s so fast. My cloak whips behind me, tangling between my legs. The woods tear at me, branches clawing at my skin, snow lashing at my face.
“Mark!” I scream.
But the path is glitching. The trail warps around me. My vision doubles, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing.
“Mark, stop!”
He never answers.
There are no footprints, no proof he was just here—just snow and silence.
I stop, spinning in a slow circle.
“You were here...” My voice trembles. “I know you were here...”
Something solid slams into me. Warm arms wrap around my body, claws barely retract before stabbing straight through my skin.
“Lumi!” His voice cracks like he’s been holding it in for hours. “What in the world were you doing?” He growls, breath ragged. “I could smell your fear all the way from the cabin. Why did you leave? Didn’t you get my note?”
“I saw him.”
His whole body goes rigid.
“You saw who?”
“Mark.”
“You saw... Mark?” He repeats carefully.
“Listen, I know it sounds crazy, but I know what I saw.”
“Lumi...” His voice softens, and it infuriates me.
“Andrik. Please don’tLumime right now.”
He exhales through his nose, steadying himself. “I trust that you saw someone, but are you sure that talking about everything earlier didn't trigger something? Because Mark’s dead... right?”
Fuck! I know he’s dead.
I know it.
His eyes flick toward the trees, sharp and predatory, but his arms stay locked around me.
