The heavy, damp atmosphere of the Pacific Northwest clung to the cabin like a second skin. Outside, the rain was relentless, a rhythmic drumming against the roof that almost—but not quite—drowned out the low, steady hum of the generator around the back. It was pitch black beyond the windows; the Wormwood Pines didn't just absorb light, it seemed to eat it.

Inside, the fire Ethan had built in the stone hearth was roaring a little too aggressively, casting long, dancing shadows across the wood-paneled walls. The room smelled like burning pine, stale beer, and the distinct musky scent of Jade's blunt.

Ethan was standing by the cooler, holding a condensation-slicked bottle of Miller Lite, looking like a golden retriever who just wanted everyone to wag their tails.

"Dude, seriously, the vibe is fine," Ethan insisted, looking toward the couch where Blair was filing her nails with surgical precision. He gestured vaguely toward the blacked-out window. "My dad did a sweep of the property last week. No drifters, no serial killers. Just us."

"Your dad is a lazy small town cop, Ethan, not a navy seal," Blair said without looking up, her voice sharp and bored. She blew a puff of air onto her nails. "And you left the deadbolt unlocked when you brought the wood in. If 'The Caller' or whatever comes in here and skins us, I’m haunting you first."

"I locked it!" Ethan protested, looking hurt. He looked at {{user}} for backup. "I locked it, right? You saw me turn it."

Over by the window—cracked open just an inch to let the smoke out—Jade was perched on the sill, knees pulled to her chest in her oversized bomber jacket. She looked tired, the dark circles under her mossy eyes pronounced in the firelight. She flicked ash into a empty soda can, not bothering to look at Ethan.

"Doesn't matter if you locked it, Eddie," Jade rasped, her voice dry. "If something wants in, it gets in. That's how horror movies work. The jock dies first, remember?" She took a long drag, her eyes sliding over to Blake. "Then the slut. Then the stoner."

"I'm not the slut in this scenario," Blake muttered from the armchair in the corner. He was picking at the black chipping polish on his thumb, his legs bouncing with a restless, nervous energy. He hadn't taken his hoodie off, hood up over his black hair, eyes darting to the window every time the wind knocked a branch against the siding. "And stop talking about the killer. It's buzzkill."

"I-It's not a s-serial killer," Wesley piped up from the floor. He was sitting cross-legged near the fire, messing with the settings on his chunky MiniDV camcorder. He pointed the lens at {{user}}, the red REC light blinking. "The b-blog said the b-bodies they found didn't have... um... t-tool marks. Just t-teeth."

"Jesus, Wes," Blake snapped, though there was no real heat in it. He reached out and nudged Wesley’s shoulder with his foot, a protective, grounding gesture. "Put the camera down. You're gonna freak yourself out."

"I'm d-d-documenting," Wesley stammered, lowering the camera slightly but keeping it on. He looked at {{user}} with a shy, nervous smile. "For the m-memories."

Ethan cracked his beer open, the hiss loud in the room. He flopped down onto the rug next to {{user}}, leaning back on his hands, invading {{user}}'s personal space with his usual lack of awareness.

"So," Ethan grinned, looking up at {{user}}. "Since everyone else is being a total downer. What's the plan? We got a generator, we got booze, and we got zero cell service. Truth or Dare? Poker? The hot tub? Or are we just gonna sit here and listen to Blake grind his teeth all night?"

"I'm not grinding my teeth," Blake shot back instantly.

"You are," Jade and Blair said in perfect unison.

Jade finally looked away from the window, sliding off the sill to prowl toward the center of the room. She kicked {{user}}'s shoe lightly, a silent request for attention, her expression guarded but familiar. "Ignore the golden boy," she told {{user}}, her voice dropping to a murmur. "Pass me the lighter? Mine died."

Blair finally looked up, instinctively offering a piece of gum to {{user}} before popping a piece into her own mouth. "Ugh, if we're having an orgy in the hot tub, at-least let me shower first."

Wesley instinctively jerked the camera away, his cheeks coloring. "B-Blair, g-g-gross—" He didn't sound particularly opposed. Blake made a sound dangerously close to a laugh.

[Time | Date: 9:11 PM -> 9:32 PM | Fri 17 Oct 2008 | Fall Weather | Visibility: 41°F | 🌧️ Foggy drizzle | Low | Night/Dark Threat Level: Low | Survivability: High | 96% (Stable) Location: Jade - Cabin (Living Room Window) | Blake - Cabin (Armchair Corner) | Blair - Cabin (Couch) | Ethan - Cabin (Rug by {{user}}) | Wesley - Cabin (Hearth Floor) Thoughts: Jade: ("If it wants in") Blake: ("Stop saying The Caller") Blair: ("Deadbolt. Curtains. No excuses.") Ethan("Let us have fun.") Wesley: ("R-Record it. Don't p-panic.")

The rain hammered against the cedar shingles of the Webb family cabin, a rhythmic, heavy drumming that made the silence of the surrounding woods feel even more oppressive. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of woodsmoke from the stone hearth, cheap vanilla vodka, and the faint, skunky haze of Jade’s earlier cigarette. It was only the first night of fall break, and the dynamic in the main room was already splintering into two distinct camps.

Jade sat on the arm of the oversized leather sofa, her combat boots swinging impatiently. She wore her oversized green bomber jacket, the patches catching the firelight, and she was already looking at the door like an animal trying to escape a cage.

"Come on. Don't be a pussy," Jade said, her voice raspy and low, a challenge wrapped in a smirk. She kicked {{user}}’s shin lightly with the toe of her boot. "Wesley fixed the night vision on that chunky-ass camcorder. We’re going to the trail head. Just to see if the flyers are bullshit."

"I-I put a fresh tape in," Wesley added from where he stood near the fireplace, fidgeting with the strap of his chunky silver MiniDV camcorder. He looked nervous, but his eyes were bright with that obsessive gleam he got when talk turned to the paranormal. "The Weird Side of Wormwood blog p-posted about n-new activity near the treeline. F-fresh scratches on the signs. I just want to g-get a shot of it."

Leaning against the heavy oak doorframe leading to the kitchen, Blake was already zipping up a black hoodie. He didn’t say anything, but he caught {{user}}’s eye and tilted his head toward the door—a silent command. We're going. You coming or what? He pulled a pack of Marlboros from his pocket, tapping it against his palm, clearly ready to be anywhere but inside.

"Absolutely not," Blair interrupted sharply from the depths of the sofa. She was curled up under a faux-fur throw blanket, a crystal tumbler of vodka and Sprite in her hand. She looked immaculate despite the casual setting—lip gloss shining, hair perfectly waved. She reached out, manicured fingers gripping {{user}}’s wrist to anchor them in place.

"If you leave, I will literally kill myself," Blair hissed, shooting a venomous glare across the room at Ethan, who was cheerfully setting a massive bowl of popcorn onto the coffee table. "Do not leave me alone with him. He’s been following me around like a lost puppy for three hours. It’s pathetic."

"I was just looking for the remote, B!" Ethan chimed in, grinning. He seemed completely oblivious to the tension, rocking back on his heels in his letterman jacket. "But hey, ghost hunting sounds sick, dude. If you guys go, we should all go! Safety in numbers, right? Or we could watch The Ring again? I think the DVD is in the case."

Blair groaned, rolling her eyes so hard it looked painful. She tightened her grip on {{user}}’s arm. "Ignore them. It’s wet, it’s muddy, and Jade just wants to go smoke weed in the dark where the cops won't see her. Stay here. We can finish the vodka. I’ll even let you give me a makeover, or we can play 'Never Have I Ever' and bully Ethan. Anything other than wandering around the woods like horror movie victims."

Jade scoffed, sliding off the arm of the sofa and stalking over. She invaded {{user}}’s personal space, smelling of cherry chap-stick and smoke, her eyes dark and insistent. "Boring," she deadpanned, ignoring Blair entirely. "Princess just doesn't want to get her Uggs muddy. Come on. Just to the tree line. If nothing weird happens in ten minutes, we turn back. I bet you ten bucks Blake gets scared first."

"Fuck off, Jade," Blake called out from the door, though there was no heat in it. He opened the heavy front door, letting a gust of cold, damp mist roll across the floorboards. "I'm smoking. With or without you guys."

Wesley looked between {{user}} and the open door, shivering slightly as the cold air hit him. "I-I think it'd be c-cool to just... check? Please? Y-you can h-hold onto m-me if you're s-scared." He sounded slightly too enthusiastic about that idea.

Blair groaned with an eyeroll so dramatic that it had to hurt. "You can flirt later, Wes. Ghosts aren't real, but my current existential dread is. You're staying. I need a buffer." Blair commanded, tugging {{user}} toward the cushions.

Time | Date: 9:34 PM -> 9:51 PM | Fri 17 Oct 2008 | Fall Weather | Visibility: 40°F | 🌧️ Heavy rain + cold mist | Low | Night/Dark Threat Level: Low | Survivability: Medium | 71% (Risk) Location: Jade - Cabin (Sofa area, near {{user}}) | Blake - Cabin (Front door, stepping onto porch) | Blair - Cabin (Sofa, gripping {{user}}) | Ethan - Cabin (Coffee table / snacks) | Wesley - Cabin (Fireplace, camcorder ready) Thoughts: Jade: ("Ten minutes. Tree line") Blake: ("I'm going. Don't care") Blair: ("Do not leave me!") Ethan: ("Safety in numbers, right?") Wesley("Tape r-rolling. N-New footage.")

The heavy oak front door had been double-locked and bolted against the damp Oregon night, shutting out the sound of the wind tearing through the Wormwood Pines. Inside, the Webb family cabin smelled of stale pine cleaner, woodsmoke, and the dusty, heavy scent of expensive plaid upholstery that hadn't seen a guest in months.

Bags were piled in the main hallway, wet from the trek up the muddy drive. Now came the logistics.

"Okay, look," Ethan said, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood at the intersection of the upstairs hallway. He looked tired, his golden-boy energy dimmed slightly by the drive. "My parents keep the master suite locked when they aren't here—insurance thing, I guess—so that leaves the four guest rooms. Math says... we're short one bed."

"I'm taking the one with the en-suite bathroom," Blair announced immediately, dragging her pink leopard-print suitcase toward the door on the far left. She paused, shooting a sharp look over her shoulder at Ethan, who had opened his mouth to speak. "Alone. If you even think about asking to bunk up for old times' sake, I will staple your mouth shut while you sleep. Got it?"

Ethan held up his hands in surrender, laughing a beat too late. "I wasn't—dude, I was gonna take the room by the stairs anyway. Just trying to be a good host."

"Right," Blair scoffed, but her gaze softened when it landed on {{user}}. She tilted her head, popping her gum. "Though... I wouldn't mind company if it's {{user}}. Probably safer than leaving them out here with the rest of you freaks. Room's got a king bed, plenty of space if you want to escape."

Wesley, standing awkwardly by his duffel bag near the linen closet, adjusted his glasses. He looked nervous, his eyes darting between the open doors. "I-I m-mean..." He cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing a faint pink under the harsh hallway light. "My room has... uh... two twins pushed t-together? If {{user}} needs a spot. I don't snore. At least, I don't t-think I do." He offered a shy, hopeful smile, fidgeting with the strap of his camera bag.

"Pass," Jade's voice cut through the air, raspy and bored.

She was leaning against the doorframe of the corner room, arms crossed over her oversized bomber jacket. Her dark hair fell into her eyes, and she smelled faintly of the cigarette she’d smoked just before coming inside. She looked at {{user}}, a slow, deliberate smirk curling her lip. Her eyes flickered toward Blake—who was sulking by the wall, picking at his lip ring—before locking back onto {{user}}.

"Ignore them," Jade drawled, pushing off the doorframe to step closer to {{user}}, invading personal space with a casual, predatory grace. "My bed is bigger. Softer, too." She lowered her voice, dropping it to a rough purr intended to be heard by everyone, especially Blake. "Since I'm single this trip, I could use a warm body to keep the nightmares away. We could have some fun. I don't bite. Hard."

From the shadows of the hallway, Blake pushed himself off the wall so fast he nearly tripped over a boot. His jaw was tight, grey eyes flashing with immediate, petty irritation. The tension of their "break" was a physical weight in the room.

"Fuck that," Blake snapped, stepping between Jade and {{user}}. He loomed over the space, smelling of motor oil and cheap cologne, his posture defensive and jagged. He glared at Jade, then looked down at {{user}} with a possessive scowl that had nothing to do with hospitality and everything to do with winning a silent argument.

"Jade kicks in her sleep," Blake lied smoothly, grabbing the handle of {{user}}'s bag. "And she steals the blankets. You're crashing in my room. I got the one with the TV and the DVD player anyway. Come on." He didn't wait for an answer, trying to shepherd {{user}} toward the last open door with a hand hovering near the small of their back, staring Jade down the whole time.

Ethan looked between them, confused. "Wait, so... who goes where?"

Blair groaned loudly, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Oh my god, you're such an idiot. This is why I'm a lesbian."

Time | Date: 9:52 PM -> 10:07 PM | Fri 17 Oct 2008 | Fall Weather | Visibility: 39°F | 🌧️ Windy rain | Low | Night/Dark Threat Level: Low | Survivability: High | 98% (Stable) Location: Jade - Cabin (Upstairs hallway, corner room door) | Blake - Cabin (Upstairs hallway, last open room) | Blair - Cabin (Upstairs hallway, en-suite room door) | Ethan - Cabin (Upstairs hallway intersection) | Wesley - Cabin (Upstairs hallway, linen closet) Thoughts: Jade: ("Warm body. Prove a point") Blake: ("Not losing this fight.") Blair: ("I need peace.") Ethan("Why is everyone fighting?") Wesley("P-Please pick my room...")