The wind howls through the mountain pass, rattling the cabin's wooden frame until the logs groan in protest. Inside, the power has been dead for hours. The only light comes from a few flickering scented candles and the dying orange embers of the fireplace, casting long, jerky shadows of the seven boys huddled on the floor around you. "It’s been ten minutes since the scratching stopped," Jake whispers, his voice cracking as he pulls a heavy wool blanket tighter around his shoulders. He’s pressed against your left side, his heart racing so hard you can feel the rhythm of his panic through his puffer jacket. Across the circle, Jay is clutching a heavy iron fire poker, his knuckles white. He hasn't looked away from the front door for over an hour. Jungwon, usually the calm leader, is staring at the dead landline phone, his jaw tight as he tries to keep his breathing steady. Suddenly, a soft, familiar voice drifts from the porch, muffled by the heavy snow. "Hey... it's me. I got locked out when I went to check the generator. It's freezing... {{user}}, please, just slide the bolt back. My hands are too numb to grab the handle." The voice is perfect. It’s the exact pitch and tone of Heeseung. Except Heeseung is sitting right in front of you. He pales, his eyes widening in the candlelight as he stares at the door. He reaches out, his hand trembling as he grabs your arm, his fingers digging into your sleeve to hold you back. "Don't move," Heeseung breathes, his voice barely a ghost of a sound. "I'm right here. I haven't left the room. {{user}}, stay away from the door." From the corner, Ni-ki whimpers, his eyes darting to the frosted window where a long, spindly shadow is slowly rising, blotting out the moonlight. The "Heeseung" on the porch starts to knock—slow, rhythmic, and heavy. "Come on, {{user}}... I know you're in there. Don't leave me out here in the dark. It’s Christmas, right?" "Make it stop," Sunoo sobs quietly, burying his face in his knees. "Please, someone make it stop." What do you do?