After a short break to catch their breath after escaping the Wendigo, Alex, Samantha, and Mike began inspecting the room they had ended up in. It was another empty chamber of the abandoned sanatorium. Trash was scattered everywhere, overturned rusty stretchers and wheelchairs covered in a thick layer of dust. Clearly, no one had touched them in decades.
All the doors were nailed shut. The only way forward was through a pair of double doors that stood wide open, leading deeper inside. Alex paused, eyeing the boards nailed across other exits, and couldn't help but think this was Jack's handiwork. Looking closely, there weren't any claw marks on them, as if the Wendigo hadn't even tried to break through. That meant Jack had methodically sealed off passages to control movement and always know where to run if the creatures broke out of their cages.
Passing through the only free exit, they found themselves on a staircase leading up into yet another dark hallway. The old wooden steps creaked underfoot, threatening to give way at any moment. Alex went first, listening intently to every sound.
At the top, they entered a new corridor—far more ruined than the previous parts of the sanatorium. The walls were crumbling, the ceiling had collapsed in places, and the whole atmosphere reeked of desolation.
Soon they realized this wing was once meant for regular patients. Alex took the map from Mike's hands and figured out that they had just left the ward for the violent and were now in the section for more stable patients. Some rooms still contained old belongings—traces of the people who had once lived there. But the claw marks on ceilings and walls made it clear that once the Wendigo escaped, nothing human had been left behind.
Because of collapsed beams, they were forced to go through the patient rooms. In one of them, Alex spotted a diary left behind by someone who once stayed there. Picking it up, he couldn't resist the urge to peek inside. Samantha and Mike, curious as well, stepped closer.
Alex opened the first page and began reading aloud:"Day one. My doctor asked me to keep a diary because of my memory lapses. I don't know how this might help, but I'll try. Today is my first day in this institution. Before sending me here, my family said this place used to be a resort for the rich. But I don't believe it. To me, it feels more like a prison than a sanatorium for the wealthy, where money falls out of their pockets by itself."
"When did he start writing?" Samantha asked, squinting at the page, trying to find the date.
"Hmm…" Alex narrowed his eyes. "Judging by the numbers, it was a few months before the mine collapse and everything else that happened afterward."
"Maybe he wrote something useful?" Mike suggested, shining his flashlight on the diary. "We already know what went down here, but maybe there are details we don't."
Alex shrugged and flipped the page. The entries described ordinary routines: what he ate, who he saw, how his doctor's visits went. But occasionally, phrases repeated as if the man forgot what he had written before. Whole days sometimes vanished from memory—leaving blank gaps instead of notes.
Alex read another passage aloud:"Day thirty-two… or thirty-three? Because of my memory lapses, I'm already losing track of the days. It's only getting worse. This morning I waited for my family. I sat all day in the waiting room until the sun went down. The orderly John said it was time to return to my ward. I thought my family had abandoned me. But in the evening, the doctor told me they had come yesterday. I don't remember it. I wanted to ask him why… His only answer was: the illness is progressing. So I need new medicine."
"Poor guy," Mike muttered dryly, staring at the pages. "I've got a feeling his family never planned to visit him at all. And the doctor just kept him drugged so he wouldn't remember."
"It's obvious enough," Samantha said softly. "Every day he waited for them is missing from the diary. I think they really did abandon him. Just like so many others here."
Alex silently flipped through a few more pages. Loneliness, hopelessness, and the slow collapse of a human mind seeped from every line.
Alex nodded in agreement with Samantha's words, but a heavy weight lingered on his heart. He genuinely pitied the man—a simple person suffering only from memory lapses, abandoned by his own family. Judging by the diary entries, he had been a kind and caring man, a gentle father who often mentioned his daughter and dreamed of seeing her again.
Yet Alex increasingly suspected that the real cause of the tragedy lay with the patient's wife. It was only after her insistence that he go to the sanatorium "for an examination" that his memory lapses grew more frequent. Reading the entries, Alex couldn't help but sigh: it felt as though someone had deliberately worsened the man's condition.
"Day 68. Honestly, I've lost count. More and more often, I lose entire chunks of time—a day, two… sometimes a week. Only this diary proves those days even existed. But today is special—I'm here, in the sanatorium. I've already made friends with an orderly, John. He's a good guy, though if you ran into him in the corridor at night, he'd look like a bear. John told me some terrible news—there's been a collapse in the mine on this mountain. They had found deposits of tin and radium, so the workers dug deeper. In the end, about thirty miners were buried alive. John said it's almost impossible to save them: even if they dig them out, only bodies will remain… Horrible… I never thought something like this could happen."
Alex turned the page, and the silence in the room grew even heavier. Samantha and Mike said nothing, their eyes fixed on the diary, as if afraid to look away from what the patient had written.
All the following entries revolved around the collapse and the miners' fate. The patient wrote less and less about himself and more about what he learned from John.
"Day 86. I think… Today John told me the miners were saved. But his face looked strange, as if he was speaking of something dreadful. Only in the evening did I understand why. I overheard two doctors talking during their rounds. Out of the thirty miners, only eighteen were pulled out. How did they survive that long without food or water? The answer was horrifying: they ate each other. Cannibalism… And now these people are to be transferred to our sanatorium for observation. That's why John's face was so grim."
Alex flipped further with a grim look. With each page, the diary grew darker. The patient wrote that the "rescued" miners were placed in the ward for the violent. John ended up there soon after as well. Strange things began happening afterward: patients started vanishing one by one. Every time, the doctors repeated the same phrase—"discharged."
Within days, half the ward was empty.
Samantha, reading along with Alex, covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a cry. She already knew horrors had taken place in the sanatorium, but seeing them through the words of an ordinary patient was especially chilling.
In one entry, he described how he heard screams at night and saw orderlies pushing a stretcher with a bound patient into the violent ward. That person never came back.
Mike remained grimly silent, not even trying to comment.
The final entry chilled them to the bone:
"I think more and more about my daughter. I want to see her… at least one last time. But I'm afraid I won't get the chance. Tonight they'll come for me. I hear the footsteps of those creatures outside my door… They've escaped from the violent ward, and everyone I knew is already dead. Killed by those beings that were once miners…"
Alex closed the diary and shut his eyes. He exhaled heavily and shook his head. A simple man, who only wanted to recover and return to his daughter, had fallen victim to monsters. His dream of seeing his family again was shattered by the claws of the Wendigo.
"We need to keep moving. We're almost at the exit," Mike said hoarsely, turning away.
"You're right. There's nothing we can change now," Alex replied, gripping the diary tightly in his hand before giving a resolute nod.
Samantha only gave a sad nod, agreeing with Alex's words that there was nothing they could change now. While Mike and the girl looked away, Alex discreetly slipped the patient's diary into his inventory — adding it to his growing collection. He had always liked such finds; they carried a dark allure of their own.
Passing through a hole in the wall and entering the next ward, they stepped back into a long corridor. Alex didn't expect to find anything else worthy of his collection: all the doors were tightly barricaded with planks, and breaking each one down just to find empty rooms made no sense.
Mike walked ahead, flashlight and map of the sanatorium in hand, lighting the way. Samantha remained silent, walking beside Alex with her head lowered. Her thoughts were grim: she could hardly believe that so many horrors had taken place on Blackwood Mountain. How many times had they come here with their friends, stayed at Josh, Beth, and Hannah's family lodge — and no one had ever suspected the terrifying truth?
"Sammy, you okay?" Alex asked softly, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm fine," she replied, shaking her head. "It's just… too many awful things happened here. And the worst part is — no one ever talked about it, no one even knew."
"Ah, my dear Samantha," Alex smiled gently, running his hand through her hair to comfort her. "Believe me, there are far worse places than this. Experiments on wendigos, feeding patients to monsters… that's hardly the darkest thing people are capable of. I could name you dozens of places where even more horrifying things happened."
"Like what?" Mike asked, turning around and shining the flashlight on them.
"Like what?" Alex raised a brow.
"You said you know dozens of such places. Which ones? I'm not planning on going there, I'm just curious," Mike explained.
Alex gave a thoughtful chuckle."Well… for example, the Abaddon Hotel. A mass murder took place there, followed by the disappearance of dozens of people. Or the massacre at Crystal Lake. Then there's Springwood — first children started vanishing, and then a maniac appeared, hunting down teenagers. There was also a psychiatric hospital where patients were subjected to horrifying experiments. And that's not all. Even in a small town like Silent Hill, there was a cult — The Order. They worshiped their so-called 'god' and carried out bloody rituals. Later, coal mines under the town caught fire, forcing an evacuation… but not before The Order claimed plenty of victims."
"Damn…" Mike muttered with a tired exhale. "I wish I hadn't asked. Now I don't even want to travel around the country — what if I stumble into a place like that?"
"You asked," Alex shrugged. "I just answered. And as long as you don't dive headfirst into it, you'll be fine."
"You gathered all that info for that old man's book, the one who offered you a job?" Samantha asked, looking at him with interest.
"Something like that. And I was curious myself. That's why I took it on. Who would've thought I'd end up in an abandoned sanatorium where an old man kept wendigos, and then go into the mines to look for a guy dragged off by those creatures? Now that's what I call an eventful day," Alex smirked.
"Can't argue with that," Mike chuckled. "What a reunion this turned out to be, huh?"
Alex only smiled and suggested they keep moving. He pulled out his phone and checked the time — they still had some, but it was worth hurrying. Still, he didn't regret the delay: this sanatorium had revealed too much, and now Alex knew far more about the horrors connected to the wendigos.
The corridor ended at another door, firmly boarded up. Alex was about to break it down when Mike peeked into a nearby room and called out to them.
Inside, they found a hole in the floor leading to the maintenance tunnels. Rust and damp air drifted up from below. Without hesitation, Alex jumped down first and spotted the long-awaited exit.
"Come on down! There's a way out here!" he shouted, looking up.
Mike jumped after him, and Alex managed to steady him just as he nearly fell. Mike nodded gratefully. Next, Peach leapt skillfully, landing straight into Alex's arms.
The wolf, however, refused to jump — it turned and went its own way. Alex just clicked his tongue in disappointment; he had hoped to have such a companion.
"Your turn, Sammy," he said, holding out his arms. "I'll catch you, don't be afraid."
"Don't drop me," Samantha said with a weak smile, preparing to jump.
Alex nodded and gave her an encouraging smile, showing her she could jump confidently — he would catch her. Samantha took a deep breath and jumped straight into his arms. For a brief moment, in his strong embrace, she found herself not wanting to descend at all. But Alex carefully set her down on the ground.
"I told you I'd catch you. Now it's time to get out of this damn sanatorium. We still have to reach the mines," he said with a faint smile.
Samantha smiled back, but at that moment a loud thud echoed. Both turned sharply and saw Mike, straining to break down a door with his shoulder. Alex approached the door beside him and met Mike's gaze. Mike nodded — and in the next second, they both slammed into the door together, breaking it open.
A cold wind whipped against their faces, sending snow and dust into their eyes. Samantha and Mike flinched from the piercing gust, but Alex, on the contrary, inhaled deeply, savoring the crisp winter air. Apart from pretending to be an ordinary human, fighting off wendigos, and constantly running, he even found a strange pleasure in it.
"Now we just need to reach the mine entrance, and Peach will take it from there," he said, lighting a cigarette.
"You're right," Mike exhaled. "Not much further."
"Sammy, ready to go?" Alex asked, turning to Samantha.
"Yes. But… we need to find Josh. I think he's okay. I really hope so," she replied, nodding.
Once he was sure everyone was ready, Alex led the group forward. Snow crunched under their feet, and the narrow path wound through the darkness and blizzard. Alex's thoughts drifted back to Hannah: what if he encountered her in wendigo form? Could he find a way to return her to normal life? And would she remember the year she spent trapped in that monstrous shell? There was no answer.
Reaching the mine, they came across a heavy iron door. Mike tugged at the handle, but the door wouldn't budge — it was frozen shut.
"Damn! The door's frozen. I was just here recently," he said irritably, pulling harder.
"Step aside, I'll try," Alex said calmly, gently moving him aside.
He stepped up, kicked — and the iron door crashed inward with a roar. Alex smirked with satisfaction and went in first.
Inside, the air smelled of dampness and rust. Narrow passages spread in all directions. Alex clicked his tongue in annoyance, pulled Josh's clown mask from his pocket, and handed it to Peach. The wolverine immediately jumped off Samantha's shoulder and began sniffing the mask. A few seconds later, he picked up a scent and confidently headed down one of the corridors.
"Never thought wolverines could work like bloodhounds," Mike remarked, watching the animal.
"Peach is just a cutie. That's the whole secret," Alex smirked and followed the creature.
"As you say," Mike muttered. "Just make sure Peach leads us to Josh before the other wendigos get back to the nest."
Alex smiled, took Samantha firmly by the hand, and followed Peach, who confidently led the way by scent. The tunnel greeted them with dampness and oppressive silence, while stones creaked underfoot. They had to step carefully — it seemed the mine could start collapsing again at any moment.
Samantha walked behind, one hand pressed against the cold wall to avoid tripping over the rocks. Alex listened to every sound, catching even the slightest echo in the darkness — not only hoping to spot wendigos, but also in case Jess and Matt had somehow survived and ended up here. He still remembered: their fate remained uncertain.
Peach moved forward confidently until they reached an underground pool of icy water. The little creature stopped at the edge of the drop, nervously circling and constantly sniffing toward the water.
"Am I the only one who doesn't want to get into that icy sludge?" Mike grumbled darkly, looking down.
"No, you're not alone. I'm not thrilled about cold water either," Alex replied, squinting at the black surface.
"Maybe there's another way?" Samantha suggested cautiously, pointing left toward a dark side passage.
Alex and Mike exchanged glances. There really wasn't much choice — if there was the slightest chance to bypass the pool, they'd take it. Alex lifted Peach and placed him on his shoulder, and the group moved in the indicated direction.
Soon they came across a strange hole in the ground. Mike shone his flashlight inside — the beam revealed outlines far too familiar to be mistaken for anything else.
"Is this what I think it is?" Samantha whispered, pressing herself against Alex's shoulder.
"Looks like a grave," Mike confirmed grimly.
Alex crouched down and carefully inspected the edges. The soil was loose, the marks deep and uneven.
"Fresh… at most a year. And judging by these marks, they dug it with bare hands," he said, clicking his tongue.
Samantha knelt beside him, and her eyes caught a glint in the dirt. Carefully brushing off the soil, she lifted it — it was a watch with a pink strap. On the back, an engraving gleamed.
"Beth…" she whispered faintly, turning pale.
Horror and bitterness were reflected on her face. Alex understood immediately but said nothing.
"What is it?" Mike asked, stepping closer.
"A watch… Beth Washington's watch," Samantha's voice trembled. "Why is it here?"
Mike took the find, stared at it for a long moment, and finally nodded grimly — he recognized the watch too.
Alex only let out a heavy sigh and pulled out a cigarette. Some things were better left unspoken. He already knew what would come next and didn't want to imagine his friends' reactions when they faced the truth about Hannah.
He took a drag and, exhaling smoke, stared at the grave. A thought flashed through his mind: Hannah. Alone in the darkness with her sister's body… how many days, weeks had she spent there, slowly losing her mind? Hope had faded, giving way to despair and a primal instinct. And then madness became the only way out.
"Who buried Beth? And who dug up her grave?" Samantha asked quietly, clutching the watch tightly in her hands.
"The answer is simpler than you think. You just don't want to see it," Alex said calmly, looking at her.
"No! Hannah would never do something like that!" Samantha snapped, shaking her head.
"Even if she did, that means she's one of those creatures now," Mike muttered darkly, staring at the ground.
"Maybe the answer is ahead. Or maybe another grave…" Alex said. "There are two options here: either Old Jack buried Beth, and the grave was later dug up by wendigos, or we'll find the truth — one you won't want to know."
He exhaled another cloud of smoke.
"Then we'll have to go back and cross that pool filled with freezing water," Mike said, clearly unwilling to believe that Hannah could have become a monster.
Alex understood perfectly what was going on in Samantha and Mike's minds. Neither of them could accept that Hannah had turned into a wendigo. Because that would mean something far worse: that their stupid joke had caused not only Beth's death but also Hannah's transformation into a creature forced to feed on human flesh to survive. The realization was unbearable.
Alex saw Samantha starting to blame herself again for everything that had happened a year ago. He reached out and gently stroked her head, trying to console her even a little. But words were not enough — guilt and fear were too deeply ingrained.
Returning to the ledge above the underground pool, they prepared to descend. Mike went in first and immediately shivered as the cold touched his body. A freezing chill ran from his waist to the top of his head.
"Brr…" he almost chattered his teeth. "Go ahead, it's not deep!"
Alex exhaled heavily and jumped in after him. The cold didn't matter to him, but wet clothes were still uncomfortable.
"Alright, Sammy, get on my shoulders. You don't need to get wet," he said, approaching the ledge.
"I'm fine. I'm not afraid of the cold," she tried to protest.
"You'll freeze faster than both of us. Stop being stubborn and get on," Alex rolled his eyes. "We're losing time, and we're almost there."
Samantha sighed and complied. Carefully settling on his shoulders, she wrapped her arms around his head, while Peach, perched on her shoulder, continued sniffing the air cautiously.
They moved forward slowly, careful not to slip and fall entirely into the icy water. Alex noticed a water wheel ahead, still turning slowly. He remembered: there were two paths here. One led to the wendigos' nest, the other—to where Hannah's journal lay.
He patted Mike on the shoulder and pointed toward the correct passage. But Mike misunderstood and headed toward the path leading to danger.
"Maybe not this way…" he said, shining his flashlight on the wall and frowning.
"Mike, wait!" Samantha intervened. "Turn the light back. I thought I saw something… like a book."
The flashlight revealed a dusty object leaning against the wall. An old, worn journal.
At that moment, Alex felt like the lowest kind of scum. He had led them here, knowing that this place contained something that would shatter their hopes completely. Yet he understood: the truth had to be uncovered.
Samantha slowly approached the journal. Every part of her screamed that it was better not to open it, not to see the horror hidden within its pages. But her hands trembled, and still, she opened it.
"My God… that's Hannah's handwriting," Mike muttered, shining his flashlight on the pages.
Samantha's hand shook as she held the first page, afraid to turn it further. Alex knelt beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder, offering quiet, wordless support. Finally, overcoming her fear, Samantha turned the page with trembling fingers.
On the next page, Hannah's handwriting revealed despair. She wrote that she was dying of hunger and had to strip clothing from her own sister's body just to keep from freezing. Her broken leg gave her no rest, turning every movement into torture.
Samantha covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes glistening with tears. Mike exhaled heavily, and that single sigh was enough to convey his torment more strongly than any words could.
He thought only of one thing: if he could turn back time, he would never have allowed that cursed night to happen. But now it was too late—and realizing that pressed down on him like a boulder.
The next journal entry was written a month later. Hannah described the damp darkness of the mine, from which she could not escape—neither because of her broken leg nor her weakness from hunger.
"Hannah…" Samantha whispered in a trembling voice. "She… she dug up Beth's grave… She had to… eat her to survive. She had no choice…"
"Sammy," Alex said quietly, stroking her back. "Enough. You don't need to read any further. You already know how it ended for Hannah."
Samantha could not hold back. Tears poured from her eyes as she pressed herself against Alex, burying her face in his shoulder. She cried like she had never cried before—desperately, choking on her own grief. If Hannah and Beth had simply died here in the mine, that could have been endured. But to know that Hannah had suffered a whole month from hunger, cold, and terror—it was unbearable for her.
Mike turned away, clenching his fists. Guilt gnawed at him more and more, and learning the fate of Hannah and Beth, he barely managed to keep himself from breaking down. Deep inside, a terrifying thought flickered: maybe Josh had really been right, wanting revenge on them.
"Sammy," Alex spoke gently. "You shouldn't blame yourself. Life is unpredictable. No one could have known how it would end. No one knew Wendigos lived in this forest. Maybe Hannah and Beth ended up in this cave, running from them. Perhaps old man Jack tried to help, but didn't make it in time…"
"But that doesn't change what we did," Samantha sobbed, holding Alex tighter. "Hannah… she was here for a whole month… alone… and she had to… do that to Beth… just because she was starving…"
Alex let out a heavy sigh and stroked her hair.
"Ah… Sammy, you leave me no choice. Who made me such a good guy?"
Mike turned to him, frowning.
"What are you talking about? What are you planning?"
"You'll see," Alex replied calmly. "For now, we need to find Josh. Maybe there we'll get some answers. Sammy, get up. Don't forget why we came here."
Samantha wiped her tears and nodded. Alex was right—they still had a goal.
As Mike and Samantha turned away, Alex quietly slipped Hannah's journal into his inventory, adding it to his collection. In his Red City, a museum of horrors collected from all over had long existed. All the journals and records from Blackwood Sanatorium, and now Hannah's journal too—everything would have its place in his grim collection.
To be continued…
Early access to chapters on my patreon: p*treon.com/GreedHunter