The cabin was silent, the only sound the wind rattling the eaves. Snow pressed against the small windows, blurring the trees outside into ghostly shapes. The group huddled in the center, boots still damp, bodies tense from the chase.
"Where do we even go?" Vera asked, voice tight.
"We follow the way Ellis was taking us," Mason said firmly. "It's the only lead we have. At least until we see something familiar."
"Are you sure?" Leo asked, rubbing at his frozen fingers. "That path got us chased into almost certain death. Maybe we should just—"
"Stop," Ivy cut in sharply, her hands pressed together as if she could squeeze the decision into certainty. "We go the way he was leading. No arguing. It's the only thing that makes sense."
Leo opened his mouth to protest, but Mason's hard stare silenced him. Even Vera hesitated, seeing the grim logic.
"Fine," Leo muttered, and the others nodded. Agreement was fragile, but it was enough.
Vera's eyes drifted toward the corner of the cabin where firewood lay stacked. "Wait," she said, voice thoughtful. "Since the fire keeps them away—and there's wood here—why don't we light a torch before we go? Just in case."
Mason and Ivy exchanged quick glances, then nodded. Leo shrugged, rubbing his hands together. It wasn't much, but any edge against the unknown was worth taking.
Ivy reached into her pocket and pulled out a lighter. Mason grabbed a thick branch from the stack of firewood by the wall, and Vera searched for something to wrap around it. She found a strip of cloth from an old curtain, damp but usable. Together, they wound it tightly around the top of the branch.
"Hope this works," Mason muttered. Ivy flicked the lighter, the small flame catching on the cloth. Smoke curled immediately, and Vera carefully adjusted it, coaxing the fire to catch on the fabric. Soon, a flickering torch burned in Vera's hands, the flame wobbly but alive. Its warm glow pushed back the darkness just enough to give them courage.
Mason moved toward the door first, the others following. The wind hit them immediately, biting through coats and scarves. Vera carried the makeshift torch, its flame flickering and casting long, trembling shadows across the snow. The warmth was slight, but it offered some comfort—and a small layer of protection against whatever lurked beyond.
Each step into the snow was measured, careful, boots sinking into the crusted white. The mountain ahead was silent—deceptively so. The torchlight danced over gnarled tree trunks and icy underbrush, giving fleeting glimpses of shapes that might—or might not—be watching.
For a few minutes, they walked in tense quiet, the only sounds their boots crunching through the frozen terrain, the faint whisper of wind over pine needles, and the soft hiss of the torch flame in the cold air. They followed the trail Ellis had taken, trusting instinct and memory more than their own judgment, a decision made in desperation for survival.
The first stretch was calm, almost unnervingly so. Each of them carried a sense of foreboding, a lingering echo of the Wendigos' pursuit, though the creatures themselves were not yet in sight. The torchlight flickered against snow-laden branches, and shadows twisted unnaturally, making the forest feel alive in quiet, menacing ways.
They pressed on, moving single-mindedly forward, the path ahead leading them deeper into the frozen forest, toward unknown dangers that waited just beyond the reach of the torch's glow.
The forest grew tighter as they pressed on, trees pressing in on both sides, their snow-laden limbs creaking under the weight. The flickering torch cast long, trembling shadows, but it was barely enough to pierce the gloom.
Then—
crack.
A branch snapped somewhere off to the right.
Everyone froze. The cold air felt sharper, heavier against their lungs. Leo whipped his head toward the sound, eyes wide, every instinct screaming. Mason's fists clenched, but he didn't move. Ivy's grip on her coat tightened, knuckles white.
"Probably just snow falling," Mason muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.
Another snap. Then a dragging, subtle scrape—something moving through the underbrush, just out of the torchlight.
"Run," Mason hissed.
They didn't wait. Snow sprayed behind them as boots slipped and crunched over roots and ice. The wind bit at their faces, the torchlight trembling in Vera's hands, shadows leaping like living things across the snow.
Whatever was following them—close enough to hear now, its movement deliberate, hungry—remained unseen. Only the faint snap of branches, the rustle of trees, and the hiss of their own ragged breathing filled the night.
Leo glanced over his shoulder, the torchlight catching shapes that weren't there a second before—tall, emaciated forms moving between the trees, pale faces like frostbitten masks, eyes glinting. Wendigos. They were out there. Watching. Closing in.
The group barreled forward, following the path Ellis had taken, hearts hammering. The torchlight their fragile shield against the horrors lurking just beyond its flickering circle.
_ _ _
The torch sputtered in Vera's hand, casting flickering shadows across the snow-crusted pines. The wind howled around them, sharp and biting, but the firelight offered a small circle of warmth and comfort. Each step into the drifts was measured, boots crunching through hardened snow, eyes scanning the forest.
Vera broke the tense silence. "Ellis… he used the Wendigos. Every single step—every part of this was a setup. He fed them, used them to cover his murders… and we didn't even fight back until we handed him over."
Leo's jaw clenched, eyes flickering to the torch. "And now he's gone. We gave him to them… we fed them too." His voice shook. "What if they're still out there, waiting for the next chance?"
Ivy kept her gaze forward, torchlight reflecting in her icy eyes. "We survived before. We can survive now. But… we need a plan. Maybe fire can help. Keep them at bay if they come close."
Mason's voice came sharp and firm. "Exactly. Fire isn't just warmth. It's a weapon out here. It keeps us safe from them… from turning." He glanced at the group. "The cold, hunger, desperation—it's what feeds them, what makes them like that. We can't let ourselves slip into it."
Vera nodded, squinting into the shadows. "Then let's stay warm as we move. Torch lit, keep our steps steady, and hope we don't draw attention."
Leo's eyes flickered nervously toward the dense woods. "Ellis… he used the Wendigos like tools, and now… what if he left more traps? Or worse… what if we're next?"
Ivy tightened her grip on her coat. "Then we survive. That's it. We keep moving, keep warm, and stay alert. Together."
Mason's gaze hardened, scanning the trail ahead. "Warmth first, vigilance, always. And no more mistakes."
Snow crunched beneath their boots, torchlight swinging across frost-laden branches. Somewhere deeper in the forest, movement stirred, low and deliberate. But the group pressed forward, following the trail Ellis had once led them down, the small blaze in Leo's hand their only defense against the encroaching darkness.
_ _ _
The snow pressed cold against their faces, wind cutting like knives. The torch flickered, casting long, trembling shadows across the frozen trees. Silence pressed in, heavier than the cold, and the weight of what they had done—what they had survived—settled over them.
"We can't just keep following Ellis's path," Leo muttered, teeth chattering. "It nearly got us killed. Twice."
Mason shook his head. "It's the only lead we have. At least until we see something familiar."
Vera frowned. "We could try a new route, strike out on our own."
Ivy's hands clenched around the torch. "And get completely lost? No. We move forward—but we stay alert. No more mistakes."
Leo's jaw tightened. "Forward into the unknown isn't exactly comforting either."
Mason exhaled through his nose, eyes scanning the treeline. "Or we stop, make camp, think it through. Let the cold kill our impulses before it kills us."
A quiet tension lingered, broken only by the hiss of the torch. Snow fell heavier now, each flake like a tiny, icy admonition.
"We stay together," Ivy finally said, voice low but firm. "We decide as a unit. Forward, yes—but carefully. The moment we split, any chance we have dies."
The others nodded, the torchlight trembling over their faces. The choice was simple. The risk was not.