The fog curled at their feet like smoke from a dying fire.
Mira and Brittany stood at the edge of the woods, the trees looming like silent sentinels. The sun had dipped low, casting long shadows that bled into the mist.
Brittany crossed her arms. "Okay, this is officially giving don't go in there energy."
Mira clutched her phone. "Anne's tracker is still pinging. She's in there."
Behind them, Lily adjusted her glittery backpack and said, "So when do we go?"
Brittany turned. "We don't. You go home."
Lily pouted. "But I'm the one who found Dyldoe!"
"And for that, you'll get a sticker and a therapy bill," Brittany said. "Now go. This is grown-up nightmare fuel."
"But—"
"No buts. Go home, watch cartoons, and don't summon anything."
Lily sighed dramatically. "Fine. But if you die, I'm keeping your shoes."
Brittany blinked. "You're ten. That was terrifying."
Lily skipped off into the distance, humming a Taylor Swift song like she hadn't just threatened to loot her aunt's corpse.
They moved quickly, ducking behind a steep rock formation as a patrol car rolled by on the nearby road. The curfew had made the town tense—sirens wailed more often now, and the woods were under watch.
Once the coast was clear, they slipped deeper into the fog.
The air grew colder. The trees closer. The silence heavier.
Then came the growling.
Low. Wet. Wrong.
Brittany froze. "Did you hear that?"
Mira nodded, eyes wide. "It's close."
Then—
"Brittany…"
The voice was soft. Familiar.
Lily's voice.
Brittany turned, heart pounding. "Lily?"
But it wasn't Lily.
A creature stood just beyond the fog.
Its limbs were too long. Its eyes glowed a sickly green. Its mouth stretched wide, revealing rows of jagged teeth. It wasn't the same as the one from the fair—this one was leaner, faster, hungrier.
"RUN!" Brittany screamed.
They bolted through the trees, branches slashing at their arms, the growling growing louder behind them.
Then—salvation.
A cabin.
They burst through the door and slammed it shut, locking it with a rusted bolt just as something slammed into the other side.
The silence that followed was deafening.
They turned.
The cabin was eerily familiar.
Two rooms. A tiny kitchen. A crooked living room. The same layout as the one Anne and Zahir had entered.
Mira whispered, "This is the same place."
Brittany looked around. "Déjà vu with a side of no thanks."
They began searching the room, but everything was… stuck.
The chairs wouldn't budge. The drawers wouldn't open. Even the books on the shelves were fused to the wood.
"This is like a haunted IKEA," Brittany muttered.
Then she pointed. "Okay, that rug is a crime."
It was hideous—faded orange with a pattern that looked like someone had spilled soup and tried to make it fashion.
Mira stepped closer. "Wait… something's glowing."
They peeled the rug back.
A door.
Glowing faintly. Humming with energy.
Mira reached for the handle.
Brittany grabbed her wrist. "What are you doing? This is exactly the kind of thing that gets people killed in horror movies."
Mira blinked. "But—"
"There's always one girl," Brittany hissed. "One girl who opens the glowing door because of her curiosity kink, and then boom—everyone's dead. I'm not dying in a cabin with glued furniture and bad lighting."
Mira hesitated.
Then the growling returned.
Closer.
Louder.
The door rattled.
They looked at each other.
"Okay," Brittany said. "Screw it."
They jumped.
Into the glowing door.
And the cabin swallowed them whole.
TO BE CONTINUED..