Archive of Our Own

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"The house is empty, but I can't seem to let it go. Let it go.
Somebody help me, show me how to be alone."
    
Celeste Munroe stood in the suffocating dark.At first, she thought she was alone. Then, the light came.Lanterns flared to life, their flickering glow illuminating rough stone walls, jagged rock formations, and the skeletal remains of an ancient tunnel. Men surrounded her—sweaty, grim-faced, gripping rusted tools and heavy drills. Their breaths came in short puffs of air, visible in the damp chill of the underground.She was in the mines.They didn’t see her, didn’t acknowledge her presence. But she felt them, their exhaustion thick in the air, their hunger for discovery outweighing common sense.“Keep drilling!” a man barked, his voice hoarse over the clatter of pickaxes and the deafening whirr of machinery.Celeste turned, watching the Blasting Crew at work. A row of dynamite was being secured into a crevice—deep, too deep.A shiver crawled down her spine.Somewhere in the cavern, the mountain breathed.Then—The boom came.Rock and dust exploded outward. The world shook, and Celeste felt herself falling—but not from a great height. No, she was sinking, buried beneath the weight of the collapse.Voices turned to screams.The lanterns snuffed out.And in the dark, something stirred.Celeste woke up gasping.

The candle’s flame flickered, its wavering glow carving restless shadows across the walls of Celeste’s dimly lit bedroom. The air was thick with the scent of smoldering sage, the smoke curling upward in delicate tendrils, dissolving into the dark. She sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, posture steady, eyes half-lidded in focus.Before her, a simple wooden bowl of water reflected the candlelight in rippling patterns, a small leather pouch of herbs rested beside it, and a handful of smooth, timeworn stones lay scattered, each etched with symbols that had no name in any language she knew.Her fingers brushed over the stones, a shiver running up her spine at the quiet thrum of energy beneath them. The spirits were listening.They always were.Shamanism wasn’t something she had wanted to pursue herself—it didn’t work like that. Her mentor, her lineage, had dictated that she would be on The Path.Sometimes however, she felt like she was sinking, having nothing but instinct and knowledge to guide her forward, pulled from whatever fragments she could find. And yet, when she closed her eyes and whispered the ancient words, they felt right. Like muscle memory from another life, another time.The air thickened.The room shifted, weighted by something unseen, something pressing down on her shoulders like a silent hand.A breath—not her own—exhaled against the nape of her neck.Celeste’s fingers twitched, but she didn’t move, didn’t flinch. She only listened.The rustling came next. Faint, distant—like wind weaving through trees. Except there was no wind. The windows were shut, the night outside still.She inhaled deeply, steadying herself.Something was watching.Something had been waiting.Then, as suddenly as it came, the presence receded, slipping back beyond the veil. The weight lifted, leaving only an eerie stillness in its wake.Celeste exhaled, slow and measured, opening her eyes. The flame burned lower now, licking the edges of the wick as though exhausted.She didn’t know what she had been expecting—a voice, a vision, a warning. But she already knew what it would have said.The mountain was calling her.For weeks, it had been creeping into her dreams like an uninvited guest, filling her mind with glimpses of things she couldn’t explain—shadows twisting in the dark, gleaming eyes peering from the trees, the distant wail of something not quite human.She didn’t understand it yet.But she would.Shaking herself from the trance, she pushed to her feet, the wooden floor creaking beneath her weight. She had to go. Josh, Beth, and Hannah were waiting, and she had an entire weekend ahead of her.Celeste grabbed her bag, sparing one last glance at the altar before reaching for the candle.The flame shuddered.Somewhere, in the back of her mind, something laughed.Then she blew it out, plunging the room into darkness.    Celeste was halfway down the driveway, bundled up in her hoodie and jacket, when the sound of the front door swinging open made her pause."Yo, where do you think you’re going?" Mike’s voice rang out, half amused, half suspicious.Celeste turned, hands stuffed in her pockets, and smirked. "Uh, escaping this prison? Duh."Mike raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorway in his usual effortlessly cool stance. "Prison? Wow, the dramatics. You’re literally free to do whatever you want, and you choose to freeze your ass off instead?""I have a mission," Celeste declared, stepping backward toward the street, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. "Beth, Hannah, and Josh need my expertise in getting the lodge ready."Mike snorted. "Your expertise? You mean standing around and making sarcastic comments while they actually do all the work?""Exactly. Someone’s gotta do it."Mike rolled his eyes but grinned. "You know, normal people just show up for the party. You’re, like, pre-gaming the chores. That’s some next-level nerd behavior."Celeste shrugged. "Some of us like to make an entrance with a properly vibed-out atmosphere. And trust me, the place needs my touch."Mike crossed his arms, smirking. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Cece. Just don’t die from the fumes, I don’t think our health insurance covers it."She flipped him off playfully as she reached the curb. "Love you too, big bro.""Try not to get lost on the way there," he called after her. "Oh wait—you’ve done it once already."Celeste didn’t dignify that with a response, everyone knew she wasn’t known for her sense of direction. Instead, she shot him a peace sign over her shoulder and made her way toward the waiting SUV.

It started in flashes.The first was of a man sitting against a cave wall, his ribs pressing against his skin, his eyes hollowed with starvation. His lips barely moved, whispering the Lord’s Prayer with cracked, bloody lips.Then—A different man, his hands shaking as he lifted a knife. Another, pressing himself into the rock, sobbing as a body was dragged toward him.More flashes.
Madness.
A miner’s hands, coated in red, shaking as he shoved meat into his mouth.Teeth gnashing.A man laughing as he licked marrow from broken bone.Celeste felt her stomach twist—not from disgust, but from a creeping, unnatural hunger.Something was watching.No, many things were watching.She turned.Beyond the last dying flicker of the lanterns, in the shifting dark, a figure stood.Tall. Impossible.Its presence bled into the cavern, filling it with dread—but also something more.
Excitement.
The Makkapitew had awoken.And the feast had begun.Celeste’s body snapped awake.

The sky had turned a deep indigo by the time Celeste stepped out of the SUV, the frigid mountain air biting at her exposed skin. The headlights cast long, wavering shadows across the snow-covered ground. She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets, eyeing the steep incline leading up to the cable car station."Home sweet haunted home," Josh Washington declared, stretching his arms as he stepped onto the packed snow. "Come on, let’s get the stuff inside before we freeze solid."Beth Washington chuckled, hefting her bag over one shoulder and lifting another towards her brother. "Not all of us are as dramatic as you, Josh."Celeste smirked as she slammed the car door shut. "Says the girl who cried over a lost mitten few years back."Beth gasped, shoving Celeste playfully. "That was a quality mitten as you well know!"”Oh, I do know, you shaved one of my eyebrows off for laughing at you. It made me look like a berk.””So, nothing new?””Shut it.”They trudged through the snow toward the cable car station, their breath forming small clouds in the icy air. The sound of their boots crunching against the packed snow was the only noise for a moment, aside from the occasional rustling of the trees in the wind. Hannah Washington trailed behind them, quiet as ever, her face illuminated by the glow of her phone screen.Celeste fell in step beside her. "Hannah, you good?"Hannah looked up briefly, offering a small smile. "Yeah. Just checking messages."Josh clapped his hands together as they reached the station. "Alright, let’s get this show on the road. Who wants to press the button?"Beth rolled her eyes but hit the call button for the cable car. The mechanism whirred to life, and soon, the cabin was gliding toward them from the far side of the station. They piled inside, the enclosed space immediately warmer than the outside air.As they ascended toward the lodge, Celeste gazed out the window. The towering pines below stretched endlessly into the darkness. A flicker of movement caught her eye—something shifting between the trees—but before she could focus, it was gone.Hannah nudged her arm. "You okay?"Celeste forced a grin. "Yeah, just spacing out."When they finally reached the top, they stepped out of the cable car and made their way toward the Washington Lodge. The snow crunched beneath their feet, and the massive building loomed ahead, its dark windows like empty eyes watching their arrival. A deep unease prickled at Celeste’s spine—not fear, exactly, but something close. A feeling she couldn’t quite shake, as though the mountain itself was holding its breath.She inhaled sharply, shaking it off as Josh pushed open the heavy front door. Warmth and the faint scent of old wood greeted them as they stepped inside."Alright, first order of business!" Josh announced, dropping his bag carelessly onto the floor. "I say we raid the kitchen. Who’s with me?"Beth rolled her eyes but followed him toward the kitchen. The Washington's had filled it few days before. Celeste hesitated, her gaze drifting toward the massive windows overlooking the snowy landscape. For a split second, she swore she saw movement—a flicker of something just beyond the tree line.Then it was gone.Hannah nudged her arm again. "You sure you're okay?"Celeste forced another grin. "Yeah, just thinking. Come on, let’s get some food before Josh eats it all."As they headed toward the kitchen, the feeling lingered, a whisper at the edge of her mind. Something was wrong with this mountain.She just didn’t know what yet.

The kitchen was soon filled with warmth and the scent of food as they rummaged through the pantry and fridge for ingredients. Josh, of course, had immediately claimed the role of "head chef," despite having little to no culinary skills."Alright, people, let’s get to work! Hannah, you chop the veggies. Beth, you’re on stirring duty. Celeste, you… supervise."Celeste raised an eyebrow. "You mean sit here and watch you burn everything? Me, the only one here who actually knows how to cook?"Josh grinned. "Exactly."Beth, rolling her eyes again, elbowed Josh out of the way and took over the pan. "If we let you cook, we’ll all have food poisoning before the party even starts. Let Cece do her thing."Celeste laughed, leaning against the counter as she scrolled through her phone. "Okay, but first we need some music. This silence is unbearable."Hannah perked up. "I’ve got a Spotify’s Today's Top Hits -playlist open.""Perfect!" Celeste cheered. "Hit play!"Moments later, the speakers filled with the opening beats of a pop hit from year before. Josh groaned. "Oh, come on, this is so mainstream!""Mainstream? Obviously, it’s the Hit Song’s -playlist! What were you waiting for? Cotton-Eyed Joe?"”Technically, I think that’s mainstream too? But, our opinion stands, Josh.”"Exactly! Respect our superior taste and quit whining!" Beth scolded, dancing along as she stirred the pot.Celeste grabbed a spatula and used it as a microphone, dramatically lip-syncing along to the lyrics. Hannah giggled as she joined in, swaying to the beat. Even Josh, despite his complaints, started tapping his fingers against the counter.Before long, they were all dancing around the kitchen, laughing and singing along. For the moment, the eerie feeling Celeste had earlier faded into the background, replaced by warmth, laughter, and the comfort of old friendships.None of them noticed the shadow shifting just beyond the window.  Later that night, Hannah sat on her bed, holding a magazine in her hands—a Compatibility Test she had filled out weeks ago about her and Mike. As she read over her answers, the door creaked open, and Celeste walked in, jumping onto the bed beside her with a sigh.Hannah quickly slid the magazine under her pillow, but Celeste noticed. Dragging herself upright, she sat next to Hannah and nudged her playfully. "What was that? Let me see."Hannah hesitated before reluctantly handing the magazine over. Celeste flipped through it with a smirk just as Beth entered the room. Without hesitation, Beth flopped down on top of them both, making them laugh."What are we reading?" Beth asked, peering over Celeste's shoulder at the magazine.Celeste's eyes landed on the front cover, where Hannah had drawn a heart with an arrow through it, writing "MM + HW" inside of it. She let out an amused sigh. "Oh, Hannah."Beth raised an eyebrow at Celeste’s reaction, then snatched the magazine out of her hands to look at it herself. She groaned, wrinkling her nose, and tossed the magazine onto the floor."Ugh," Beth muttered, looking at Hannah with a scowl. "Why, of all guys, does it have to be Mike?"Hannah, her face burning red, opened her mouth but had no real answer. "I... I don't know. It's just Mike."Celeste leaned toward her with an exaggerated grimace. "That’s my brother, and I just do not understand why people like him that much.” She took a sip of her water and gave rest to Beth.”My brother is a whore,” Beth choked on her drink so bad it came out of her nose, “and he will always be a whore. You deserve to have a better crush than him."Before Hannah could protest, the door burst open, and Josh came barreling into the room. Without warning, he jumped onto the bed, landing on top of all three of them in a tangle of limbs and laughter."Josh!" Beth yelped, trying to shove him off."What? Group bonding!" Josh grinned before grabbing a pillow and smacking Celeste with it. That was all it took for an all-out pillow fight to break out, with feathers flying everywhere. They shrieked, dodged, and attacked, laughing until their stomachs hurt. Eventually, Beth emerged as the last one standing, holding her pillow like a trophy.Breathless, she turned to Josh. "Wait, did you actually come in here for something?"Josh, still grinning, nodded. "Oh yeah! The hot tub is ready for you ladies."Celeste groaned happily at the thought of sinking into steaming hot water. "Bless you, Josh."She raided Hannah’s closet for big towels, handing them out before they made their way to the adjacent room. Beth wasted no time stripping down and sliding into the jacuzzi with a satisfied sigh. Celeste grabbed some soap, pouring it into the water as Hannah climbed in beside Beth. Bubbles swirled and foamed around them, and as Celeste finally eased herself into the water, the warmth instantly relaxing her muscles, she let out a deep, contented sigh."This," she murmured, "is exactly what I needed."

The warmth of the water wrapped around them, easing away the cold of the evening. Celeste stretched her arms out along the edge, watching the steam rise.

After a few minutes, Beth sighed in contentment. "So, back to this Mike situation."Hannah groaned. "Do we have to?""Yes," Celeste said, closing her eyes. "Because you deserve better."Beth gave Hannah a pointed look. "And I agree with Cece."Hannah pouted and crossed her arms. "And what about you, Celeste? I know for a fact you have a tiny crush on Matt."Celeste snorted. "Okay, fine, I admit it. But I’m not doing anything about it."Hannah tilted her head. "Why not?""Because I don’t have time for boys and their stupidity," Celeste replied easily. "And honestly, I have no real interest in anyone from our friend group. If I ever get into a relationship, I’d like a grown man."Hannah blinked. "Wait, but haven’t you—?"Celeste nodded. "I’ve had sex and other things, but never any commitment."Beth hummed knowingly, having suspected as much. She closed her eyes and sighed as the hot water relaxed her muscles. "Well, I’ve only had one kiss on the cheek. That’s it."Hannah made a noise of agreement, exhaling through her nose. "If I had someone to practice with, that would be nice."Celeste looked between them, thoughtful. "You know, we could fix that."Beth and Hannah stared at her, wide-eyed. "Wait—what?"Celeste shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. "We’re best friends, right? We trust each other. Why not?"The twins exchanged glances, unsure. "You’re sure?" Beth asked.Celeste nodded. "Of course. Now, let me show you some basics."She shifted closer to Beth first. Their hot skins touching. "Alright, kisses have meanings. It’s not just about the act itself—it’s about intention. Let's start with romantic kisses. The single-lip kiss, for example, is when you gently suck on your partner’s lip, taking turns. It’s slow, affectionate."She demonstrated on Beth, who flushed but followed her lead. Hannah watched intently."The lean-in kiss is more of a teasing thing," Celeste continued. Her fingers traced Beth’s shoulder, leaning near. She watched Beth’s face between her lashes. "You get close, hover, build anticipation."Beth mimicked the movement, and Celeste gave an approving nod before moving on to the prolonged kiss. Their soft lips slipping into each other. "This one is simple—just a long, meaningful press of lips."Beth leaned back in, pressing her lips against Celeste’s for a few moments before pulling back. "That one’s easy."Hannah nodded, eager. "Can I try now?"Celeste turned to her. Raising her hand to Hannah’s, pulling her closer. "Of course."They went through the same sequence, Hannah starting out hesitant but quickly growing more confident."Now, for steamy kisses," Celeste continued. "French kissing is probably the most well-known. It’s all about balance—too much tongue is overwhelming, too little feels stiff."She demonstrated on Beth, slow and careful, making sure to keep it comfortable. Hannah blushed but watched closely.They moved on through the categories, each one met with a mix of curiosity, amusement, and nervous giggles. The butterfly kiss had them laughing as they fluttered their eyelashes against each other’s skin. The angel kiss—light and comforting—was met with warm smiles. The Spiderman kiss, attempted upside down, ended in more giggles as they struggled to position themselves properly.By the end of it, they were all flushed—not just from the heat of the water but from the steaminess of the lesson.Beth leaned back with a grin. "Okay, that was way more fun than I expected."Hannah nodded, thoughtful, her face burning. "At least now I won’t be completely clueless if I ever actually kiss someone."Celeste smirked. "See? I told you we could fix that."   
Steam curled off their skin as Celeste, Beth, and Hannah stepped out of the hot tub, the cold air biting at their damp bodies. Celeste wrapped a large towel around herself before grabbing her backpack from the corner of the room. Beth, already drying her hair, glanced up and raised an eyebrow.“Where are you going?” she asked.Celeste smirked, pausing near the door. Instead of answering, she opened the bag and tilted it slightly, just enough for Beth to catch a glimpse inside—the faint glint of crystals, the soft rustling of feathers and fabrics, the smooth shapes of polished bone.Beth exhaled knowingly. “Ah. Shadow work night?”Celeste nodded. “Mm-hmm. Spirits of the mountain and all that.”Beth grinned and waved a hand. “Alright, we’ll join you soon.”Hannah blinked between them, slightly puzzled but too relaxed to question it further. Celeste quickly dried herself and put on her underwear with some loose pants and a top.She slipped out the front door, moving quickly through the cold, her feet crunching over the snow as she made her way toward her usual spot near the edge of the tree-line.Once hidden from view, she pulled off her towel from her hair and reached into her bag, pulling out her grandmother’s ceremonial outfit. The fabric was black and navy blue, embroidered with fine, intricate patterns. The small bells woven into it chimed softly with her every movement, their delicate sound like rain falling on leaves. Feathers were sewn into the fabric, their pale colors stark against the dark material.She secured her talisman around her neck, tucking it beneath her layers of clothing, safe from anyone’s touch. The spirit within was protective, a warm presence against her chest. Her fingers brushed against the small deer bone in her bag, a silent nod to the animal spirit that had given it to her. The tiny eagle bones nestled beside it felt like whispers of guidance, reminders of sight beyond sight.Her breath came in soft puffs as she moved to one of the large, rusted metal barrels left behind by past visitors—her usual fire pit. She reached into her bag and pulled out a small pouch, taking out dried herbs and plants meant for cleansing. The scent of sage, cedar, and sweetgrass filled the air as she arranged them carefully.With practiced ease, she struck a match, the tiny flame flickering wildly before catching on the dry kindling she had placed inside the barrel. The fire roared to life, crackling as it danced, the heat spreading through the freezing night.Fire was her ally. It always had been.She sat cross-legged before the flames, closing her eyes, letting her mind settle. The bells on her clothing jingled softly as she swayed, grounding herself. This mountain held history—held memories buried deep beneath the snow. Tonight, she would listen.A few minutes later, the soft beat of a drum echoed through the night.Beth had arrived.   The wind had stilled.Hannah tightened her coat around herself as she and Josh stood a few feet from the fire, its flickering glow casting long, restless shadows across the snow. Celeste was in the centre of it all, moving with practiced grace, her ceremonial outfit rustling as she swayed. The bells stitched into her clothing chimed softly, their rhythm blending with Beth’s steady drumbeats.Real candles surrounded the fire in a wide circle, their flames wavering but never going out. Around them, small offerings lay in careful arrangement—bowls of dried berries, polished stones, tiny bundles of herbs wrapped in twine. The scent of burning sage mixed with something deeper, richer.The smoke.Josh swallowed as he caught a hint of what Celeste had been smoking earlier. He wasn’t clueless—he knew about psychoactive plants, the way they were used in traditional ceremonies. But seeing it in action, watching Celeste move like she was somewhere else entirely, sent a strange shiver down his spine.Hannah, standing beside him, let out a breath. “Is it always like this?” she whispered.Beth, still drumming, shook her head. “Not always. Different ceremonies have different purposes.” Her voice was steady, but there was something in her eyes—a quiet reverence, a respect for the sacredness of the moment. “This is the first time I’ve been a part of it instead of just watching.”Josh exhaled sharply, rubbing his hands together for warmth. "Feels... different this time."Beth didn't answer. She knew what Josh meant.Celeste had begun to chant, her voice low and rhythmic, the syllables unfamiliar yet carrying weight. She turned in slow, deliberate steps, moving with the fire, her arms lifting as though she were guiding the smoke itself. Her breath formed faint clouds in the freezing air, mixing with the incense that curled skyward.Then, something changed.Celeste’s movements became sharper, more precise. Her hands drifted to her sides, where two ceremonial knives rested against her hips.Beth stiffened.Josh’s eyes widened as Celeste unsheathed them in a single, fluid motion. The polished blades gleamed under the firelight as she stepped deeper into the trance, her body moving with an intensity that hadn't been there before."Don't touch her," Beth said suddenly, her voice firm.Hannah looked at her in alarm. Unknowingly she had taken a step forward. "What?"Beth didn’t stop drumming. “No matter what happens, do not touch her. Not until it’s over.”Josh glanced between the two of them, uneasy. “Why?”“She’s somewhere else right now,” Beth murmured, watching as Celeste spun with the knives, their edges cutting through the air like silver streaks. "If you pull her out too soon, it could—” She hesitated, then shook her head. “Just don’t.”The fire flared suddenly, licking higher into the night.Hannah felt it then.A pressure.Like the weight of something unseen pressing against her chest, against all of them. It wasn’t suffocating, but it was there—a force that made the air feel thick, electric. She exchanged a glance with Josh, whose expression had shifted from curiosity to something more serious.“Is that the plants messing with us, or…?” Josh trailed off.Beth didn’t answer immediately. She was still drumming, still watching. But there was something knowing in her silence.Celeste’s chanting grew deeper, her movements wilder, as if she were walking the line between this world and another. The wind picked up again, swirling the smoke and snow together in a slow, deliberate spiral.Hannah swallowed hard.Whatever was happening…Something—someone—was listening.   The wolves whined.Jack Fiddler’s grip on his rifle tightened as he crouched low, one knee sinking into the snow. His breath curled in the cold air, mixing with the mist that rose from his wolves’ muzzles as they pawed anxiously at the ground. They were restless—tails low, ears flicking toward the distant flicker of firelight beyond the trees.They sensed something.Jack did too.The mountain had stirred.Not in hunger, not in anger, but in acknowledgment.He narrowed his eyes, shifting his stance as he peered through the dense forest. From his vantage point, he could see the Washington Lodge perched on the ridge, its windows glowing faintly against the dark. But it wasn’t the lodge that had the wolves’ attention.It was the girl.Jack had seen her before.Last year, same time. And the year before.A younger friend of the Washington kids, standing in the fire’s glow, dressed in ceremonial garb. Feathers and shells adorned her clothing, the small bells sewn into the fabric jingling softly with her movements. Her talisman—a real one, not some tourist trinket—was hidden under her clothes, but Jack could sense it. A protective spirit was bound to it, an old one.His wolves whined again, shifting closer to him, their tails wagging slightly.Jack exhaled through his nose.Bold little thing.The girl had been clumsy her first year—nervous hands, unsure steps, hesitant words. Last year had been better. But this? This was different.She moved with purpose now. She chanted with confidence.Jack’s gaze flicked to the other kids—Beth Washington, the twin who always watched, was playing a drum, her rhythm steady. The other two, the shy one and the boy with the loud mouth, stood by, watching in quiet awe. None of them interrupted.They felt it too.Jack adjusted his rifle strap, standing slowly. The wolves perked up, waiting.The mountain liked this girl.Had for the past three years.It didn’t mean she was safe. But it did mean she was… tolerated.That was more than most could say.Still, he didn’t let his guard down.If she was reaching out to the old spirits, calling for their protection, it meant she understood—at least in part—that something lurked on this mountain. That this place, these woods, weren’t just some pretty wilderness for rich kids to play in.Jack took one last look at the ceremony before slipping back into the trees, his wolves following close behind.He’d keep an eye on her.And on whatever might be listening.

The mountain stirred.Not with hunger. Not with rage.But with something older. Something that whispered through the trees, curling through the bones of the mountain like smoke. A call. A demand. A challenge.Makkapitew listened.For years, the wind had carried such murmurs to him—half-formed, unpolished, the clumsy attempts of an outsider reaching where she should not. He had paid them no mind. Her words had not been for him.But this time, he felt them.This time, they touched him.A low, rasping breath pushed past his jagged teeth as he crouched deep within the shadows, his elongated limbs coiling tight beneath him. His claws flexed against the frozen rock. He had been content to watch from the depths, to wait as the mountain’s hunger stretched into the long, merciless winter.But now…Now, something dared to shape the air against him.The chant wove itself into the very fabric of the storm he had been gathering, pressing against the force that curled in his grasp, smoothing the edges of the ice-laced winds before they could rise. A request. A plea. A foolish thing.She was young, this one. Young, but not ignorant.She had done this before.Once.Twice.And now a third.Makkapitew’s body unfurled, shifting in silence, his twisted form gliding over the frozen ground without a sound. The wind howled around him, but he was not within it. He slithered through the empty spaces between the trees, moving in tandem with the shadows, his presence barely a whisper against the night.The lodge loomed ahead, firelight flickering against the snow.And there—She stood in the glow of the flames, her silhouette dancing with each motion. The bells in her garments chimed softly, lost beneath the rhythmic pulse of the drum. The scent of burning herbs curled through the air, thick and rich, laced with the bitter tang of something stronger. Smoke and spiritwork.His cold, dead amusement sharpened into something keener.Foolish child.She sought to deny him. To tether his storm, to smooth the winds, to call upon the mountain as if she had the right.A slow, guttural noise rattled in his throat.He would let her.For now.Let her believe she had won. Let her dance her little dance, let her voice ripple through the bones of this place, let her believe she had bent the spirits in her favor.And then—Then, he would unravel her.Not with the storm. Not with the cold.No.He would drag her down in other ways.He would let hunger take root in her belly, let her grow weak with desperation, let the mountain’s silence press against her until she crumbled beneath it.And when she shattered—Ah.Then she would know him.Makkapitew did not smile—his broken, jagged maw had long since lost the ability—but something in his dark presence stretched, deepened, reached.His attention settled on her now, truly settled.He had decided.A gift, then. A stormless weekend.But only so she might suffer properly.Only so he could enjoy the hunt.He reached for her, just the faintest touch. A whisper of his presence curling against her senses.Not enough to break her trance.Just enough to let her know—She was no longer dancing alone.  Celeste spun with the fire, her feet barely brushing the cold ground as her bells sang in time with the drum. The smoke curled around her, thick and heavy, clinging to her skin like a second spirit. Her talisman, warm beneath her clothing, pulsed with each movement, the energy rising, curling, building.The mountain breathed with her.She felt it.Felt the spirits draw near, their forms slipping between the flickering candlelight. The wind carried voices she did not understand, but she knew their intent. She could feel them watching, whispering, weighing her worth.Higher.She had to ascend higher.The drumbeats blurred. The fire stretched into ribbons of color. Her breath came in gasps, but she was no longer in her body, no longer of flesh and blood.She was rising.Rising—And then—A shift. A pull.The firelight twisted, became something warmer, softer, flickering against old wooden walls.A memory.She knew it before she understood it.The scent of sage and cedar filled the air, mingling with the comforting aroma of steeping tea. Celeste blinked, her surroundings solidifying. She was no longer in the snow.She was in her grandmother’s home.The small, familiar space wrapped around her like a blanket. The wooden floors creaked as the wind whispered against the windowpanes. The fire crackled in the hearth, its glow casting long shadows against the walls.And there—Her grandmother.Rocking slowly in her chair, her lined hands brushing over Celeste’s talisman, the very same one she now wore. The old woman’s eyes were far away, lost in thought, her lips moving in silent prayer.Celeste lowered her gaze.A child sat at her grandmother’s feet.Herself.She could not be older than seven, her small hands occupied with an array of tiny wooden carvings. She played without a care, murmuring stories to herself as she moved the figurines in her own little world.Celeste’s chest tightened.She did not remember this moment.Not fully.Her grandmother exhaled, heavy and tired, before tucking the talisman away into the folds of her shawl. And then, as though a decision had been made, she leaned forward and cupped the child’s face in her weathered hands.Celeste stilled.The child looked up, confused at the sudden touch, blinking wide-eyed at the unshed tears in her grandmother’s gaze.Her voice wavered, thick with sorrow.“Oh, my darling fawn,” she whispered. “Even when I wish it not to be… you are the one we have dreaded to come.”The child frowned. “Grandma?”The woman let out a breath, shaking her head as though trying to force the grief away. But she did not let go.“It is your face I see in the visions,” she murmured. “The spirits send them to me again and again. Your future is endless darkness.”Celeste felt her throat tighten.She was shaking.Her grandmother’s hands trembled, her voice breaking.“But at least…” she whispered. “At least I can give you a fighting chance.”She took a breath, steeling herself.“We start your training tomorrow.”The child did not understand. She only nodded, confused but trusting, as her grandmother pressed a long, lingering kiss to her forehead.The vision shattered.Celeste gasped, her spirit plunging back into her body.But something had changed.Something was wrong.She could feel it now—something watching.A pressure curled around her, thick and suffocating, so much more than the smoke of her herbs. A presence. A dark, seething thing that should not be here.She was not alone.A hunger clawed at the edges of her consciousness, deep and gnawing, endless and ancient. The mantra she had woven for the mountain, for protection, brushed against it, but the thing only laughed.It did not fear her.It did not flee.It studied.Her body shuddered, her limbs locking as the firelight flickered unnaturally, the warmth leeching from the air.It was touching her.Not physically. Not yet.But its presence was curling around her mind, slithering through her very essence, testing the edges of her spirit, as if to see how much she could bend before she broke.Her lips parted, but no breath came.She knew this feeling deep down. The increasing selfishness, violence, hunger, and greed, trying to consume her.Before it could sink its hooks into her deeper, the cold pressure suddenly shattered—The darkness ripped back, retreating like a hiss through the trees.A wave of warmth flooded the space in its wake, pushing against her like a protective embrace. Light. Soft and full of voices.
Others.
Not just one.Many.So many she could not decipher them, could not separate their emotions. Love. Sorrow. Hope. Fury. They pressed against her spirit, shielding her, chasing away the thing that had come too close.Her knees buckled.She collapsed.Beth gasped behind her, but the drum did not stop.Celeste barely registered the panic of the others, the murmurs of worry.Her head swam.Then—A sound.Snow crunching.Something massive moving through the darkness.Beth’s drumming wavered, her breath hitching as she turned toward the trees.The shadows shifted.A silhouette stepped into the moonlight.A great bull elk.Towering, regal, its antlers reaching toward the heavens like the branches of an ancient tree. It stepped forward, breath misting in the cold, its dark eyes locked onto Celeste.And then—It bent down.Its warm, rough tongue licked her face.The touch grounded her instantly, the pressure of the other spirits easing. The elk's presence wrapped around her like a cloak of comfort, humming with something sacred, something old.Celeste inhaled shakily.Her hands, still trembling, reached forward.She pressed her forehead to the elk’s, nuzzling it in silent thanks. The beast huffed softly, the sound almost amused, before snorting a warm breath against her face.Celeste let out a breathless giggle.The others behind her did not dare to move.She pulled back, lowering her gaze, and whispered in Algonquian, voice hoarse but reverent, “Thank you for the honour of your presence.”The elk regarded her for a moment longer.And then, with slow, deliberate steps, it turned.The great beast vanished into the trees, the night swallowing it whole.The moment lingered in the air, thick and electric.Beth, Josh, and Hannah stood frozen behind her, barely breathing.Celeste swallowed hard.Her protection had been granted.But she knew, deep in her bones—Something else had taken notice of her tonight.And it would not forget her.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"I'm almost twenty, but tell me why I feel so old?

Yeah, I can't move on, but there's nothing left to hold"
    Jack stayed crouched in the underbrush, eyes narrowed against the glow of the fire. The Washington kids stood clustered around the young shaman, their faces taut with worry as she crumpled to her knees.His wolves snarled low, hackles raised, their bodies coiled like taut wire. Even before he could sense it himself, they knew.
It’s here.
Jack’s grip tightened around his weapon.He wasn’t unfamiliar with the rites of protection—had copied them, learned them, used whatever scraps of knowledge he could to hold back the horrors on this mountain. But what the girl had just done? That was beyond him. He had never seen a shaman like this.And now he knew why.His wolves’ growls deepened, ears flattening, their teeth bared at something unseen.Only one Wendigo could shake a shaman out of their trance like that. Only one could turn even his wolves into trembling beasts.
Makkapitew.
Jack exhaled slowly.So.The ceremony had drawn it out.He scanned the darkness, listening. The wind had changed, no longer the natural breath of the mountain but something watching, waiting, curling around the lodge like unseen claws.Jack had hunted many Wendigos in his life.This was different.The mountain itself seemed to have taken a liking to the girl. He had noticed it before—the way the land responded to her presence, the way the spirits moved around her. But this? A protection rite that forced the Alpha to take notice? That was something else entirely.And then—A shift.His wolves’ growls stilled, their bodies lowering, but not in fear.In reverence.Jack followed their gaze.From the shadows, stepping soundlessly into the silver light of the moon, came a great bull elk.Jack barely breathed.It was massive, its antlers casting long shadows, its presence unmistakably otherworldly. It moved past him without fear, its heavy breath misting in the cold as it approached the girl.Jack could only watch.He watched as the great beast lowered its head, its tongue rasping over the young shaman’s pale face, grounding her. Her trembling hands lifted, her forehead pressing against the elk’s own in a quiet, unspoken thank you.The mountain was watching over her.His wolves whined, ears flicking. They understood as well as he did.The girl had done it.The Washington Lodge had been protected.Jack exhaled slowly, muscles easing just slightly. Smart girl. He had seen her before, had watched her chant on these grounds in years past. But never like this.This was the first time she had truly been heard.And now—now she had made herself known.Jack’s fingers twitched against the handle of his weapon.Makkapitew knew her name now.He had felt her presence.That was a problem.Jack remained where he was, still hidden, as the elk pulled away and slowly turned back to the trees, its great form swallowed by the shadows once more.The girl whispered something in the Algonquian tongue, bowing her head in respect. The Washington kids hesitated, uncertain whether to approach, before Beth finally made the move, reaching out.“Cece?”The young shaman blinked, as if remembering where she was.She let out a shaking breath, nodding. “Yeah… yeah, I’m here.”The others instantly moved in, gathering their supplies, murmuring quiet reassurances as they helped pack everything up. They didn’t linger. The energy had changed. Even if they couldn’t sense why, they felt it.Jack waited, watching as they carried the last of their things back inside, the fire slowly dying down in the pit.Only when the door shut behind them did he move.His wolves sniffed the air, pacing, restless.Jack exhaled, adjusting the grip on his weapon.The ceremony had been a success.But now—Now Makkapitew was outside.And he had a hunt to begin.    Cold metal pressed against her skin.Celeste opened her eyes.She was strapped to a chair.The restraints weren’t real. She knew they weren’t real. But in the moment, they might as well have been—her arms and legs were heavy, her body sluggish.The room was dimly lit, old and sterile. There was someone standing before her.Jefferson Bragg.
Who? How did she know that?
His face was sharp and lined with age, his expression unreadable as he gazed down at her. No, not her—the man whose memories she was intruding upon.A patient.A voice echoed in the chamber, distant but clear.“Do you remember who I am?”Celeste felt her mouth open, but no words came out.Bragg continued, as if expecting silence.“Do you know why you’re here?”Another silence. Then—pain.A sudden, blinding jolt coursed through her, a memory of agony not her own. A flash of a cell, a chair, electricity arcing across restrained limbs.Bragg’s voice droned on, calm, clinical. “You’re making progress.”A figure in the corner of the room—a doctor—jotted something down.Bragg tilted his head. “Tell me, what year is it?”The patient—the man whose body she was in—hesitated.Bragg gave a faint smile.“That’s alright,” he soothed. “You’ve been through quite a lot.”A gloved hand reached for something.Celeste’s heartbeat slammed in her chest.A needle.“Remarkable progress today,” Bragg murmured.The syringe pressed into her arm.Her vision blurred.The last thing she saw was Bragg’s impassive face, watching as the world faded.Then—Celeste woke up, her body trembling.The spirits had spoken.

The morning had passed in a warm haze of productivity.The lodge—once cold and lifeless—now buzzed with warmth. The fire in the great room crackled steadily, chasing away the mountain’s chill. The kitchen smelled of fresh food, the scent of spices and baked goods lingering in the air.They had been busy.Beth and Josh had made sure the heating system worked properly, while Hannah restocked towels and linens. Celeste spent most of the morning sweeping out the last of the dust, double-checking the bathrooms—because God forbid someone like Emily got stuck with cold water.Everything was ready.Now, all that was left was to wait for the chaos of their friends to arrive.Celeste adjusted the laundry basket in her arms as she stepped into Hannah’s room, the door slightly ajar. The morning light filtered in through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the familiar space. It smelled like vanilla and lavender, the faintest hint of perfume lingering in the air.She made her way to the shelf near the bathroom, stacking the towels neatly.As she turned to leave, a crumpled piece of paper in the trash bin caught her eye.Celeste knew what it was before she even picked it up.She and Beth had found it last night—Hannah’s half-finished “Are You and Your Crush Soulmates?” quiz. The answer key had been folded neatly at the bottom, ink smudged where she’d erased and rewritten answers.Celeste had given Beth a look. Beth had barely held in her laughter.Poor Hannah.Celeste smoothed the paper out against her thigh, scanning the questions again.
"Does your crush make your heart race?"

"Do you feel like fate keeps bringing you together?"

"Do you believe in soulmates?"
Celeste rolled her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips.She didn’t need to look at the answers to know exactly who Hannah had been thinking about, Hannah had confirmed it to be Mike.With a shake of her head, she folded the page back up and tossed it into the bin. She’d tease her more about it later.For now, she had a muffin to steal.    The scent of something warm and buttery filled the air as she entered the kitchen.Josh stood by the stove, flipping pancakes onto a growing stack while Hannah stirred a fresh batch of hot cocoa. Beth leaned against the counter, earbuds in, scrolling through her phone. A large tray of oven-baked bacon sat cooling next to a plate of scrambled eggs, a bowl of fresh fruit set neatly beside butter, syrup, and toast.Damn.For once, they’d actually prepared.Josh glanced over his shoulder as Celeste walked in. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the local cryptid finally making an appearance.”Celeste flipped him off.Beth, not looking up from her phone, snorted. “Morning to you too, Cece.”Ignoring Josh’s ongoing snark, Celeste made a beeline for the fridge. She grabbed a cold bottle of apple juice, along with a leftover blueberry muffin, and plopped onto a barstool next to Beth.She cracked open the bottle and took a long sip.Beth finally looked up. “So, what’s the vibe? Need some music recs for later.”Celeste popped a piece of muffin into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Depends. Are we going for good music or Josh's taste in music?”“Hey!” Josh called from the stove.Beth grinned. “I was gonna say good music, but now I kinda wanna put on Josh’s playlist just to be an ass.”Celeste gave her a fist bump.Josh muttered something under his breath but kept flipping pancakes.Hannah, ever the peacemaker, turned from the stove with a spoonful of cocoa in her hand. “Here, try this,” she said, holding it out to Celeste.Celeste leaned forward and took a careful sip. The rich chocolate melted over her tongue, perfectly warm, with just the right amount of cinnamon.Goddamn.She gave a small nod of approval. “Alright, I’ll give you this one, Hannah Banana. Solid ten outta ten.”Hannah beamed. “Good, ‘cause that’s what we’re serving with breakfast.”Josh made a show of flipping the last pancake onto the plate. “Ladies and gentlemen, our feast is served.”Beth finally put her phone down, standing to grab some food. The atmosphere was easy, warm—a rare kind of peace before the inevitable storm of their friends’ arrival.For now, they could enjoy it.But tonight?Tonight was another story.

The lodge was about to get so much louder.She could hear the laughter before she saw any movement, the crunch of snow underneath shoes also signalling the arrival of their friends.Celeste barely had time to brace herself before the front door swung open, and—“Cece!”Before she could react, she was tackled.Sam’s hug was bone-crushing in the best way possible, nearly lifting Celeste off the ground. Celeste laughed, hugging her back just as tightly.“Finally,” she said, pulling away just enough to look at Sam properly. “Someone I actually like has arrived.”Sam rolled her eyes. “I love how you say that when I’m, like, the only person who likes you back.”Beth snorted from behind them. “Hey, rude.”Josh crossed his arms. “Yeah, I thought I was your favorite.”“You thought wrong,” Celeste said flatly, then turned back to Sam. “How was the drive?”“Hell,” Sam said immediately. “Chris wouldn’t stop making The Fast and the Furious references, and Ashley was way too invested in our ‘bonding experience.’”“I was not—”Ashley stepped inside, dragging her suitcase behind her. Chris followed right after, huffing as he attempted to carry three bags at once.“Dude,” Celeste deadpanned. “Who are you moving in with?”Chris groaned, dropping the bags onto the floor. “Listen. These are not all mine. I was peer pressured into carrying half of Sam’s stuff.”Sam flicked his forehead. “That’s what you get for comparing me to Vin Diesel for two hours straight.”Chris rubbed his forehead with a dramatic sigh. “Unbelievable. This is why I have trust issues.”More voices outside meant more cars pulling up. Soon, Jessica and Matt arrived, followed by Emily—who immediately made a beeline for Beth, talking a mile a minute about the “absolute travesty” of the road conditions.Celeste, ever the wonderful hostess, just nodded along.Then, finally—The last of their friend group arrived.She barely had time to prepare before—“Ceeeeeeeece!”Mike’s voice barely finished carrying through the air before Celeste found herself snatched.“No, no, no, NO—!”Too late.Mike wrapped her into a hug, but before she could even think about escaping, he had her locked in a death grip—one arm trapping her against his chest, the other hand violently ruffling her hair.
The armpit grip.

Her worst nightmare.
“Mike!” Celeste shrieked, her voice muffled.“Look at you!” he teased, still rubbing at her hair like she was a dog. “I missed my little Star—”“Get your sweaty ass off me!”Everyone just watched as she flailed, her fists uselessly slapping against his back. Sam looked concerned. Beth was already recording. Josh was just standing there, nodding approvingly.Celeste, on the other hand, was living through the five stages of grief in real-time.Finally, Mike let go, shoving her away.Celeste stumbled, her hair an absolute mess.She inhaled sharply.Then, with the most serious look on her face, she lifted her chin and said, “Let’s go outside right now. No cloves. No jackets. Bare-knuckle brawl in the snow.”Mike howled with laughter. “Jesus, Cece—”“1v1 me, coward.”“—I just got here!”“Okay, fine.” Celeste ran a hand through her ruined hair, glaring at him. “But just so we’re clear, I am going to fight you at some point this weekend.”Josh clapped a hand on her shoulder. “As long as it’s filmed, I’m in.”“Dude,” Mike said, shoving him.Emily, who had just finished ranting to Beth, finally turned to look at Mike.“About time,” she said, arms crossed. “Do you know how long we were waiting in that car for you?”Mike gave her his best charming grin. “You love waiting for me, babe.”Celeste gagged.Jessica, who was lingering way too close to them both, tossed her hair over her shoulder and gave Mike a not-so-subtle once-over.Celeste saw it.Emily saw it.Emily just didn’t care, as long as she was the one Mike went home with.Celeste still had no idea how their relationship functioned, but hey.Not her problem.“Alright,” Beth called out, shutting the front door. “Everyone get your stuff put away, and let’s get this party started.”
Finally.
     It didn’t take long for the luggage to be shoved into the right rooms, coats hung up, and boots kicked off. The warmth of the lodge worked quickly to chase away the chill from outside, and soon enough, everyone had settled into their usual groups.That’s when Celeste made her way to the kitchen.“Alright, degenerates,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m making drinks. Who’s in?”There was an instant chorus of responses.“Oh, hell yeah.”“I love you.”“Make mine strong.”Beth slid onto a barstool. “I trust you. Don’t poison me.”“No promises,” Celeste muttered.She grabbed the bottles, pouring out whatever she thought fit. She wasn’t a bartender, but she knew how to mix a decentdrink.Chris came up behind her, peering over her shoulder.“What are you making me?”Celeste turned, handing him a straight shot of vodka.Chris blinked.“...Wow.”Celeste grinned. “You’re welcome.”The next drink went to Sam, who thanked her with a smile. Then Matt, then Beth. Mike took his with a raised brow.“You’re actually useful?”Celeste gave him the fakest smile she could muster. “Drink your poison and shut up.”The night was just getting started.

The bass thumped through the walls of the lodge, making the floors vibrate beneath Celeste’s socked feet. The party was officially in full swing.Jessica leaned in close to Emily, her glossy lips curling into a mischievous smirk. “Okay, Em, hear me out—”Emily rolled her eyes before taking a slow sip of her drink. “Oh God, what now?”Jessica wiggled her eyebrows. “We should totally pull a little prank on Hannah.”Emily nearly choked on her drink. She looked Jessica up and down, as if trying to gauge whether she was serious.“…Why?”Jessica tossed her hair over her shoulder. “C’mon, Em. You see how she looks at Mike, all heart-eyes and desperate virgin energy—it’s pathetic. Like, if she’s gonna be that easy, why not mess with her a little?”Emily stared at her for a long moment, her perfectly sculpted brows furrowing. Then she scoffed. “Jess, you’re ridiculous.”Jessica pouted. “Oh, come on. You can’t tell me it wouldn’t be hilarious to see her get all flustered thinking Mike actually wants her. Then—bam! We let her down easy. Just some harmless fun before the real party starts.”Emily swirled her drink, lips pursed. “And by ‘harmless fun,’ you mean emotionally wrecking a girl who’s done nothing to you?”Jessica gave an exaggerated eye-roll. “She’ll live.”Emily hummed, weighing her options. Celeste was still somewhere downstairs, probably with Beth, meaning no one was around to overhear. If she was going to shut this down, now was the time.…But then again, it would be kind of funny.She sighed, tilting her head. “Alright, fine. What’s your plan?”     Downstairs, Celeste sat at the kitchen island, nursing a tall glass of juice while Beth scrolled through music on her phone.The two of them were tucked away from the main chaos of the party, where the others had started to get loud. The sharp scent of alcohol clung to the air, making Celeste’s stomach twist.She exhaled through her nose, focusing on the sweet citrus of her drink instead.Beth, noticeably tipsy but still in control, nudged Celeste’s arm. “You sure you don’t want anything else? We’ve got beer, tequila, really questionable Jell-O shots…”Celeste wrinkled her nose. “You know I don’t drink.”Beth leaned her head against Celeste’s shoulder, her warmth reassuring. “Yeah, yeah. Just making sure you don’t feel left out.”Celeste softened, bumping her glass against Beth’s in a tiny toast. “Trust me, I’d rather chug battery acid than get wasted with them.”Beth giggled. “Fair.”Upstairs, hushed whispers turned to muffled laughter. Jessica had set her plan in motion.
The night was just getting started.
    The cold mountain air bit at Celeste’s exposed skin as she stood on the back deck, her breath curling in ghostly wisps. Beth, a little unsteady from the drinks she’d had earlier, wrestled with the overstuffed trash bags, muttering curses under her breath."Why do we have this much garbage already?" Beth groaned, shifting the weight of the bag as she stomped through the snow.Celeste chuckled, her boots crunching softly against the frozen ground. "Because Mike and his minions are human garbage disposals?"Beth snorted. "Fair point."As Beth trudged toward the bins, Celeste lingered near the edge of the deck. Something was off.The wind had stilled. The usual sounds of the mountain—rustling trees, distant animal calls—had faded into silence. Even the lodge, once filled with the dull hum of music and laughter, felt eerily muted from outside.A prickle crawled up her spine.Then, in the dim moonlight, something in the snow caught her eye.A small, carved object, half-buried in ice.Frowning, Celeste crouched and plucked it from the ground. A wooden totem.The second her fingers curled around it, the world lurched.    A vision slammed into her mind like a lightning strike.She wasn’t in the snow anymore—she was falling.Plummeting into endless darkness, cold air rushing past her skin, her own screams tangled with others—Beth’s. Hannah’s. Their hands reaching for each other, fingers barely brushing—And then—
Impact.
Bones shattering. Flesh torn. Agonized cries cut short.Darkness swallowing them whole.    Celeste gasped as she was yanked back to reality.The totem dropped from her hands, landing with a soft thud in the snow.Her knees felt weak. Her breathing came in ragged bursts.She knew what she had seen.Their deaths.The cliff.But—why?A familiar pressure wrapped around her chest, the same suffocating weight she felt when the spirits spoke to her in riddles.They were warning her.But she couldn’t tell Beth.She knew she wasn’t allowed. The spirits forbade it.Celeste swallowed hard, forcing herself to steady her breath. She scooped up the totem, slipping it into her coat pocket just as Beth turned back."You good?" Beth asked, tossing the last bag into the bin.Celeste nodded stiffly, plastering on a weak smile. "Yeah. Just… cold."Beth shivered dramatically. "Tell me about it. Let’s head back in before my nipples freeze off."Celeste let out a weak laugh, following her inside. But her mind was elsewhere.Something was coming.    Hannah pulled the towel from her damp hair, her heart pounding with nervous excitement.She had just found it.A piece of folded paper, slightly crumpled, tucked between her things.She unfolded it carefully.On one side was a familiar pencil sketch—her face, delicately drawn with soft strokes, as if captured in a quiet moment. Sam’s work.Her breath hitched.But when she turned it over, her heart stopped.A short message was scrawled in thick, confident handwriting. 
"Han,

It’s been fun hanging out with you…

No one gets me like you do, not even Cece. Meet me in my room at 2:00 AM.

— Mike"
 Her face burned.Mike. He wanted to see her. Alone.Her fingers clenched around the note, her stomach twisting with nervous excitement.But what about what Celeste and her sister said? But it’s Mike..What they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them.Heart pounding, she rushed to her dresser, rifling through her things.She had to look perfect.   Laughter and hushed whispers filled the upstairs hallway as Jessica leaned against Emily’s door, her eyes glinting with mischief.“Alright, so here’s the plan.” She twirled a lock of blonde hair around her finger, lowering her voice. “Hannah thinks she’s about to have the night of her life with Mike, right? But instead, we’re all gonna be there, watching.” She giggled. “Imagine her face when she walks in and boom—surprise!”Emily smirked, crossing her arms. “Damn, Jess. You’re really going all in on this, huh?”“Uh, duh?” Jessica scoffed. “It’s gonna be hilarious.”Ashley, standing beside Matt, grinned. “Oh my god, she’s gonna die of embarrassment.”Matt chuckled. “Yeah, this is gonna be legendary.”Meanwhile, Sam stood nearby with her arms folded, frowning slightly.“I don’t know, Jess,” she muttered. “This feels kinda mean.”Jessica rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Sam. It’s just a prank.”“It’s not her fault, she’s really into Mike…” Sam hesitated. “I just think maybe we shouldn’t—”Jessica groaned, waving a dismissive hand. “Relax. We’re not hurting her. It’s just a little fun, okay?”Sam didn’t look convinced, but Emily nudged her. “Lighten up, Sammy. It’s not that deep.”After a moment, Sam sighed and rubbed her temples. “Whatever. Just—don’t take it too far, alright?”Jessica smirked. “Scout’s honor.”With that, everyone took their positions.

Hannah’s heart pounded as she smoothed her hair one last time.This was it.Mike was waiting for her.She took a deep breath, nerves and excitement twisting together in her chest, and stepped out into the dimly lit hallway. Her boots were soft against the floor as she walked toward his room, every step making her pulse race faster.Her hands trembled, just a little.She raised one and knocked softly.When there was no answer, she pushed the door open.Mike was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up at her with that easy, lopsided grin that always made her heart skip.“Hey,” he said, voice low.Hannah swallowed. “Hey.”For a moment, there was nothing but the soft hum of the wind outside, the flickering glow of the bedside lamp.Then Mike stood.He stepped closer, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, uh… maybe we should start with kissing,” he said, his tone warm, teasing. “And, you know… see where it goes from there.”Hannah barely managed to nod before her hands moved on instinct, reaching for the hem of her shirt.The fabric peeled away, leaving her in nothing but a bralette.Mike’s gaze flickered over her, and she took a small, nervous step forward, closing the distance between them.This was really happening.She tilted her chin up, leaning in—The door slammed open. “Hannah, stop!”Hannah startled, her breath hitching as she whipped around. Sam stood in the doorway, her face twisted with frustration.“This is so stupid… it’s just a prank, Han.” she said.Hannah blinked, confused. “W-What?”Then, movement—shuffling behind her.Jessica.Emily.Matt.Ashley.They stepped out from their hiding spots, grinning.The camera was on. It was filming her.Jessica let out a delighted laugh. “Oh my god, you totally thought—”Hannah’s stomach dropped.The laughter. The flashing lights. The looks on their faces.Mike wasn’t saying anything. He wasn’t stopping them.She turned to him, desperate for an explanation, but he only shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck.Jessica was laughing.Ashley was biting her lip to keep from giggling.Matt was smirking.Emily looked amused.It was all a joke. Hannah’s face burned from the shame.Her breath came short and sharp, her hands moving on instinct—grabbing her shirt, clutching it to her chest.She didn’t say a word. She just ran.   Celeste rinsed out her glass, listening absently to the muffled voices from upstairs. She didn’t know what was going on, but whatever it was, it was loud.With a sigh, she wiped her hands on a towel and turned toward the couches near the fireplace.Josh and Chris were out cold, sprawled across the cushions, snoring softly.Celeste shook her head. “Lightweights.”She was about to head back upstairs when—
SLAM.
The sound of a door being thrown open and slammed shut made her flinch.Then—“Hannah!”Beth’s voice, panicked.Celeste’s stomach twisted.Something was wrong.She didn’t hesitate.Grabbing her coat, she rushed away from the kitchen, just as Beth sprinted outside into the freezing night.Celeste yanked on her boots next to the front door, hands shaking with frustration as she shoved her feet in. Her hat, gloves—where the hell were her gloves? There. She snatched them off the counter and pulled them on roughly.Behind her, the others were stumbling back inside after Beth’s outburst, the cold wind following them through the door.“What the hell happened, Michael?” she demanded, not even looking up as she tightened her laces.Mike ran a hand through his hair, shifting awkwardly under her glare. “It was just a joke—”Celeste snapped her head up, eyes blazing. “What did you do now?”Jessica scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Oh my god, chill out, Cece. It was just a—”“Be silent.”The room went dead quiet.Jessica’s mouth hung open slightly, like she couldn’t believe someone had actually told her to shut up.Celeste slowly stood, gripping a crumpled piece of paper in her fist. She unfolded it, revealing the drawing of Hannah—Sam’s drawing—along with the note scrawled across the other side.She held it up.Then, voice eerily calm, she repeated, “What did you do?”Mike exhaled heavily, rubbing his temple. “Jessica had this idea, okay? A prank, it wasn’t even that bad. Matt was supposed to film it for us all to laugh at it later, even Hannah.” Matt came quietly forward with the camera and opened the gallery. Celeste took it to her hands and watched the whole thing.After she was done, she closed her eyes for a moment, forcing herself to breathe. In. Out.Celeste had her jaw clenched so tight it ached. She wasn’t wasting another second in this house of idiots.“Cece, wait—”Mike’s voice caught her just as she reached for the front door.She froze, fingers tightening around the handle. Goddammit.With a sharp exhale, she turned, leveling him with a glare. “You get one sentence, Mike.”Mike ran a hand through his hair, clearly rattled. “It was just supposed to be funny.”Celeste let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Wow. Hilarious. Really got the whole room rolling with that one.”Mike winced. “I didn’t—” He sighed, shifting his weight like he wasn’t sure how to stand. “Look, we were just messing around, alright? Jess said it’d be, like, a dumb, lighthearted thing—”“Oh, yeah, lighthearted. Because humiliating someone in front of a camera is so casual,” Celeste snapped, stepping closer. “She took her shirt off, Mike.”His mouth opened, then closed.She saw it then—the guilt settling in.“She thought you liked her,” Celeste said, her voice quieter but no less sharp. “And you let them turn it into some joke.”Mike scrubbed a hand down his face. “I didn’t know she was gonna—”“Didn’t know or didn’t care?”That hit. His jaw tightened, his gaze flickering away.Celeste inhaled deeply through her nose, forcing herself to steady. “Hannah’s not like you. She doesn’t brush shit off. She’s soft.” Her voice wavered, but she pushed through. “And you just let it happen.”Mike swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”“Are you kidding me?!” she shouted at Mike, voice cracking with rage. “You need to start growing up Mike, for God’s sake! Actually, you all do!”Mike took a step back. “Star—”“No! Shut up!” She pointed at all of them. “Ganging up on someone to humiliate them isn’t funny, it makes you children! You bullied her! What, because she had a crush? Big deal! You know what happens with crushes? They go away!”Emily crossed her arms, rolling her eyes. “Oh, come on, Cece. Hannah’s been making moves on Mike for ages.”Celeste snapped.“No, she has not!”Emily flinched.Celeste took a sharp step forward, her words cutting like knives. “You think I wouldn’t know? I practically live with the Washingtons! Hannah has never tried anything on Mike, so don’t you dare try and justify what you did!”Emily narrowed her eyes. “Well, excuse me for—”“Oh, shut the hell up, Emily. If you’re so worried about someone taking ‘your man’—which, by the way, is the most pathetic and unhealthy thing I’ve ever heard—you should be watching Jessica.”Jessica’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”“Oh, don’t even start.” Celeste’s voice was sharp as ice. “You’ve been drooling over Mike for years. You follow him around like a damn stalker. This whole ‘prank’? It’s just another excuse for you to get close to him.”Silence.A thick, suffocating silence.Jessica’s face turned red—not from embarrassment, but from sheer rage.Celeste didn’t give her the chance to respond.She turned back to Mike, shaking her head. “And you. I swear to God, you’re the worst of them all. I can’t believe you would go through with something so stupid. Grow. The fuck. Up.”Mike clenched his jaw but said nothing. Celeste exhaled harshly, shaking her head as she pulled out her phone.“Get Chris and Josh sober, now. Then tell Josh how every single one of you—who are actually guests here—humiliated his sister, in her own home, over something as stupid as a crush.”She turned on her heel and bolted out the door.She didn’t stop. Didn’t look back.Only listened for Beth’s voice, calling out desperately in the distance.She ran toward it.    Celeste’s breath burned in her lungs as she ran, the freezing wind biting at her exposed skin. She had already lost sight of Beth twice—her awful sense of direction wasn’t helping—but the flashlight beam ahead was her anchor. Just follow Beth. Just keep running.The snow crunched under her boots as she caught up, her pulse hammering in her ears. “Beth—wait up!”Beth barely spared her a glance, her face tense with panic. “We have to find Hannah—now.”Celeste nodded, forcing her legs to move faster.They found her minutes later.Hannah stood in the middle of the snow, shivering, her face streaked with tears. She was in nothing but a thin bralet and thin pants, hugging herself against the bitter cold.Beth immediately shrugged off her jacket, draping it over Hannah’s shoulders. “Jesus, Han, what the hell were you thinking? You’re gonna freeze.”" I can’t believe I was so stupid."Celeste quickly pulled off her gloves and shoved them into Hannah’s shaking, icy hands. “Here, put these on. I swear to God, I’m gonna kick Mike’s ass when we—”A sound.Celeste’s words died in her throat.Beth turned sharply, her grip tightening on Hannah. “Did you hear that?”Celeste swallowed. Yeah.A low, unnatural clicking echoed in the trees, like bones knocking together. The air suddenly felt thick, like the mountain itself was watching them. The same oppressive feeling from before, the one that had pulled her into her trance.And then—A screech.Hannah gasped. Beth spun around, grabbing both of them.“RUN.”They ran.Branches whipped against Celeste’s arms as she sprinted blindly through the trees. The sound behind them was wrong. It wasn’t footsteps. It was something moving too fast, too fluid—something stalking them.She stole a glance back—A shape.Crouched. Watching them.Long, skeletal limbs. A stretched, nightmarish face, its gaping mouth full of jagged teeth. Black eyes, hollow and endless, locked directly onto her.The Dark Spirit. Suffocating presence that had touched her. The endless hunger and darkness.Celeste barely managed a breath before it screeched again, loud enough to rattle in her skull.They reached the cliff edge. There was nowhere to go.Beth turned, stepping in front of Hannah and Celeste. Her breath was ragged. “Stay—stay close—”Celeste’s mind raced. What do we do? What do we—She swallowed thickly, forcing herself to look at the thing. She had felt its presence before. It had touched her.She started muttering under her breath.A desperate prayer. A plea to the spirits.The thing didn’t move. But it listened.Its head tilted, almost curiously, as its bony fingers twitched.Beth reached for Hannah—But Hannah took a step back.The snow shifted beneath her foot.Beth’s eyes went wide. “Hannah—NO!”Too late.Hannah slipped. Beth lunged, grabbing her wrist just as she went over the edge—Celeste grabbed Beth—And all three of them were dangling over the abyss.Celeste’s fingers dug into the frozen dirt, her other hand locked onto Beth. Hannah whimpered below them, her grip slipping.And then—A burst of fire.Glowing against the darkness.A shadowed figure stepped forward from the trees.A stranger.He moved quickly, kneeling at the edge, arm outstretched toward them. “Take my hand!”Celeste gritted her teeth, trying to pull them up. Her fingers screaming in protest from it.But the root under her grip was slick with ice.It tore free.The last thing she saw was Beth’s panicked eyes, Hannah’s scream—And the burning fire above—Before they fell into the darkness below.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"Don't think I'll ever go home
I'm not a kid anymore."
    
Pain.A deep, bone-deep kind of pain that made it impossible to think.Celeste barely had the strength to open her eyes, her body screaming with every shallow breath. The cold pressed against her skin, seeping into her bones like ice water. Where—She tried to move.Agony shot through her limbs like fire.A strangled gasp slipped past her lips, her body trembling under the weight of injury. Her head pounded—concussion, probably. Everything else—just bruises. That was the only good news.She couldn’t move.Her vision blurred at the edges. Her body was demanding her to shut down, to just sleep—The darkness swallowed her whole before she could fight it.   
Soft whimpering.Celeste stirred, her mind sluggish and disoriented. The pain was still there, dull and pulsing, but it wasn’t what pulled her from unconsciousness.Someone was crying.She forced her heavy eyelids open, the world still spinning, her stomach turning in protest.A dim, bluish light flickered around her. Moonlight. Snow filtered in from somewhere above, casting long shadows against jagged rocks and broken beams. The mines. They had fallen into the mines.A sharp inhale—pained, shallow.Celeste turned her head—every movement like dragging herself through wet cement.Beth.Beth was nearby, propped weakly against a rock, her body half-covered in snow. Her forehead was bloodied, her hands trembling where they rested against Hannah’s arm.Hannah.Celeste’s breath hitched.Hannah was worse.She was barely conscious, her body curled in on itself like she was trying to shrink away from the pain. Her leg—Jesus. It was bent at an angle that didn’t look right.“H-Han?” Celeste’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.Hannah let out a tiny, breathless sob. Beth blinked sluggishly at Celeste, relief flickering in her exhausted eyes.“C-Cece,” Beth rasped, her voice raw. “You’re—alive.”Celeste swallowed, trying to push herself up—bad idea. The second she moved, her muscles seized, fire lancing through her ribs. She let out a weak hiss, collapsing back into the snow.“…Yeah,” she exhaled, staring at the ceiling. “Not sure if that’s a good thing.”Beth let out a tired, humorless chuckle.The sound of dripping water echoed somewhere in the distance. The weight of their situation pressed down on Celeste’s chest.They were trapped.And something was out there.The last thing Celeste remembered was that thing standing over them, those black eyes locking onto hers before they fell.Her stomach twisted.She couldn’t say why—how—but she knew.
It’s still here.

The first day passed in a blur of pain, exhaustion, and growing fear.The second day, the hunger set in.Celeste lay on her back, staring at the jagged rock ceiling above. Every muscle in her body ached, her stomach twisting and hollow. The hunger wasn’t just an ache—it was gnawing at her insides, clawing at her ribs with every passing second.The cold wasn’t much better. It seeped into her bones, numbing her fingers, making every movement sluggish and painful.Beth had barely spoken.Hannah was worse. She was slipping in and out of consciousness, shivering violently, her breath shallow.They weren’t going to last long like this.Celeste forced herself upright, pushing past the nausea and dizziness. She had to move.They were trapped in the mines. There was no immediate escape. The walls around them were steep, the only visible way out being an opening far above their heads. There was no food, no warmth—nothing but darkness and the distant sound of dripping water.The air felt heavier today.Like something was watching.Celeste exhaled sharply, trying to shake off the feeling.She needed a fire. That was the first step.   
She searched the cavern, her weak legs barely able to support her weight. After what felt like forever, she stumbled upon an old, rusted barrel. Inside, there was a crusted-up layer of something that smelled faintly of gasoline. A few other barrels nearby had oil—not ideal, but better than nothing.She gathered whatever scraps of wood she could find—old, damp, but not completely useless. It took longer than she liked, but after some frustrating work, a small flame finally sparked to life, flickering against the stone walls.Warmth.For the first time since the fall, the deep, biting cold began to fade.She melted some snow in a rusted can, bringing it to Beth and Hannah, helping them drink. It wasn’t much, but it was something.Beth squeezed her wrist weakly. “You’re… amazing.”Celeste gave a tired smirk. “Yeah, I know.”    That night, when she finally let herself close her eyes, the dreams came.But they weren’t just dreams.The darkness twisted around her, dragging her deep into something ancient—something hungry.She saw faces contorted in agony, flesh ripped from bone.A man, his eyes wide with terror, scrambling through the mines, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He wasn’t alone. A shadow lurked behind him, something fast, something wrong.Then—screaming.And that face—those eyes.A Wendigo. She felt it now, closer than before.It was watching. Waiting.Hunting.Celeste shot awake, her breath coming in sharp gasps. The fire crackled beside her, its warmth feeling thin compared to the chill crawling up her spine.She didn’t know how, but she knew.They weren’t alone down here.And if she didn’t find food soon—if they got any weaker—they wouldn’t stand a chance.    The lodge should have been filled with the sounds of laughter, hangover complaints, and the smell of leftover snacks. Instead, it was silent—heavy.Josh groggily sat up on the couch, rubbing his temples. His head throbbed, the remnants of last night's drinking hitting him hard.“What the hell happened?” His voice was hoarse.Sam stood nearby, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her expression grim. “Hannah ran off.”Josh blinked, trying to piece it together. “Wait—what?”Chris, still half-asleep, muttered something unintelligible before sitting up. His face was covered in sharpie drawings—dicks, bad mustaches, a poorly written ‘CHAD’ on his forehead. He squinted at Sam.“What do you mean ‘ran off’?”Sam exhaled sharply, glancing at Mike and Emily, who were already mid-argument across the room. “It was a prank,” she said, voice tight. “Jessica’s idea.”Josh’s stomach sank.Before he could ask anything else—“Are you kidding me right now?!” Mike’s voice boomed through the lodge, his entire body tense with barely restrained anger. “How can you be so heartless right now?”Emily rolled her eyes, arms crossed. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this was all my fault.”Mike took a threatening step closer. “It is your fault! It’s also my fault for going with it. It’s all of our fault!” His voice cracked with something raw—something terrified.“My sister went out there! And now she’s gone!”Emily scoffed. “She ran after Hannah! It’s not like—”“Like what, Emily?” His hands clenched into fists. “Like it wasn’t your dumbass idea to let Jessica pull this shit?”Emily’s expression darkened. “Excuse me?!”“Oh, don’t act like you didn’t think this was hilarious last night!”Jessica, who had been silent, finally interjected, her tone defensive. “It was just a joke! None of us thought she’d actually—”“Shut up.”Jessica flinched as Mike turned on her, his usual charming grin nowhere to be found. His voice was low, dangerous.“My sister was out there all night. Is still out there.” His jaw clenched. “And if anything happens to her—”He cut himself off, shaking his head like he couldn’t even finish the thought.Chris stood, rubbing his temples. “Okay, hold on—what’s going on? Where’s Beth?”Sam swallowed. “She went after Hannah. Celeste went after her.”Josh’s blood ran cold.“…What?”Sam nodded, eyes full of worry. “She followed Beth. They never came back.”Silence.Josh’s hands curled into his hair, panic creeping into his voice. “No, no, no, no, that’s—that’s not funny, guys. You’re joking, right? They’re all just, like… in one of the rooms, or something—”“Josh.”Sam’s voice was quiet.“She’s not here. None of them are.”Josh looked at her, his face pale.Mike turned to the group. “We need to call someone. We have to go now.”Chris, still half out of it, wiped a hand down his face. “…Yeah, I’m gonna wash this bullshit off my face first, but then—yeah. Let’s go.”The tension in the room was suffocating. The reality of what had happened was finally sinking in.Beth, Hannah, and Celeste had been gone all night.And none of them had come back.

The crisp morning air bit at their faces as Josh, Sam, Mike, and Chris trudged down the mountain. The weight of last night's mistake pressed down on them with every hurried step, each of them lost in their own frantic thoughts.Mike’s hands shook as he held his phone to his ear, his breath ragged. It rang once, twice—“Mike?” His mother’s voice came through, groggy from sleep.He swallowed, trying to keep his voice steady. He couldn't freak out. Not yet.“Mom,” he started, voice tight. “It’s Celeste. She—she’s missing.”Silence.“…What?”“Her, Beth, and Hannah. They—they ran off into the woods last night, and they haven’t come back. We—we looked, but—”His voice cracked.“They’re gone, Mom.”A sharp inhale. “Oh my God.”He could hear his mother moving on the other end, the rustling of sheets and the hurried sound of her footsteps.“Have you called the police?”“We’re on our way now.”Her voice turned sharp. “Stay with Josh. You hear me? Don’t let him go off on his own.”Mike clenched his jaw. “I won’t.”She exhaled, a shaky breath. “I’m coming. I’m taking the first flight out. Find her, Michael.”“I will.”The line went dead.Mike shoved his phone into his pocket, inhaling deeply as he tried to force himself to focus. His little sister was out there—alone, scared, and possibly hurt.He had to find her.    
Sam led the way, practically jogging down the path toward the ranger station. Josh was pale, his face tense with barely contained panic. Matt’s camera was in his hand. “This is all my fault,” he muttered under his breath. “I should’ve—I should’ve stopped them, I should’ve—”“Dude,” Chris cut in, keeping pace with him. “You were passed out. This isn’t on you.”Josh let out a bitter laugh. “She’s my sister, Chris.” His hands curled into fists. “I should’ve—God—”Sam slowed her pace just enough to look back at them. “We’ll find them, Josh.” Her voice was gentle but firm. “They couldn’t have gotten that far.”Mike’s jaw tightened. “You don’t know that.”No one responded.The weight of his words settled over them like a thick, suffocating fog.    By the time they reached the ranger station, the sun had fully risen. Mike wasted no time hammering his fist against the door.The ranger inside—a gruff-looking man in his late fifties—opened it with a frown. “What’s all this racket—”Josh shoved past him. “We need to call search and rescue.”The ranger blinked. “What?”Sam took a deep breath. “Three of our friends went missing last night.”The words felt too real as she said them.The man straightened. “How long have they been gone?”Chris glanced at his watch. “About… eight hours now?”The ranger nodded, moving toward the radio. “We’ll get a search team up the mountain right away.”Josh let out a shaky breath as the man started making calls.It had begun.The search for Beth, Hannah, and Celeste had begun.    The days blurred together in the suffocating darkness of the cave. Celeste had no idea how long they had been trapped—three days, maybe four? It was impossible to tell. The fire she had built flickered weakly, barely keeping the biting cold at bay. Their bodies were bruised, weak, and starving.Beth had managed to sit up against the wall, though her movements were slow, each one accompanied by a sharp wince. Her head was still wrapped in the cloth Celeste had found—something she had washed and dried by the fire, but it wasn’t enough. Her face was pale, the color draining from her cheeks more and more each day.Hannah was worse. She barely spoke, her body curled inward as if trying to disappear into herself. She had given up on crying. Celeste didn’t know if that was better or worse.And then there were the whispers.They started quietly, like the wind slipping through the cracks of the cave. Just a murmur beneath her own thoughts.At first, Celeste thought it was exhaustion playing tricks on her. Or maybe the hunger. But the longer they stayed trapped, the clearer the voice became.
You can’t save them.
Celeste clenched her jaw, shoving another piece of wood into the fire.
They’re dying.
She ignored it.
You could end their suffering.
Her hands shook. She curled her fingers into her lap.
They will turn on you.
Her breath hitched.“Cece?”Beth’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. Celeste snapped her head toward her, startled.“You okay?” Beth frowned at her.Celeste forced a smirk. “As okay as I can be in a fucking frozen tomb.”Beth huffed a weak laugh. “Yeah, fair.”Celeste turned back to the fire.Beth couldn’t hear it. The whispering.Only she could.And it was getting louder.    Some time later, when the fire had dimmed and the cold settled deep in their bones, Celeste found herself staring at her hands. They felt wrong.Something brushed against the edges of her mind.
You were made for more than this.
She sucked in a sharp breath. “Shut up.”Beth stirred beside her. “Huh?”Celeste swallowed hard. “Nothing.”She needed to sleep. Just for a little while.But when she closed her eyes, the whispers turned into visions.A storm of memories that weren’t her own.Bloodstained snow.Screams echoing in the mountains.Hands clawing at a stone prison.A man—or what used to be one—watching her from the darkness with black, empty eyes.Celeste jerked awake, gasping. The fire was dimming again.A hand touched her wrist.She flinched.Hannah.Her best friend’s fingers were weak, trembling. Her lips were cracked, her voice barely there.“Cece…”Celeste squeezed her hand. “I’m here.”But for how long?    Celeste sat before the dying fire, her body trembling—not just from the cold, but from exhaustion, from hunger, from something else that coiled deep inside her. The whispers in her head had not ceased, their voices curling around her thoughts like a serpent tightening its grip.But she wasn’t going to let them win.Not without a fight.Her fingers dug into her pockets, pulling out the crumpled remains of dried herbs and plants—remnants of her rituals, things she had brought to the mountain in case she needed them. Well, she needed them now.With shaking hands, she fed the herbs into the fire, whispering old words under her breath, prayers she barely remembered but felt deep in her bones.The flames twisted, shifting in color—blue, green, sickly yellow. The air thickened, pressing down on her like a thousand unseen hands.Beth stirred in her sleep, but Celeste didn’t stop.She threw more into the fire, letting the smoke rise, curling around her face, her skin, sinking into her lungs. Her vision warped, the cave stretching and twisting at impossible angles.Then—
The spirits answered.
Dark figures emerged in the swirling smoke, their forms flickering between human and something else. They whispered in a language she didn’t fully understand, but she felt their meaning deep in her soul.One of them stepped closer—taller than the others, its face obscured by shifting shadows.It did not speak in words. It spoke in thoughts.
“There is only one way.”
Images slammed into Celeste’s mind.A ritual. Blood. Binding.She could be the vessel. She could take the dark spirit into herself. Trap it. Lock it away. But there would be a price.A hunger that would never fade. A change that could not be undone.
Something in between.
Celeste’s breath came in sharp, ragged gasps.She didn’t know if it would work. She didn’t know if she would survive it.But what choice did she have?She clenched her fists.“I’ll do it.”The spirits did not smile. They only watched.And as the vision faded, as the fire died down to embers, a snap echoed through the cave.Celeste’s stomach twisted.Hannah’s wristband.Beth’s wristband.Both broken.The protection was gone.And the mountain was watching.    Celeste sat cross-legged before the fire, its flickering light casting jagged shadows across the cavern walls. Her hands trembled as she dipped her fingers into the wound on her arm, dragging lines of blood across her skin in intricate symbols—marks of protection, marks of sacrifice.Each stroke felt like sealing her own fate.She wasn’t sure if the spirits would accept this. Wasn’t sure if they cared.Hannah shivered violently beside her, teeth chattering. Beth pulled the tattered blanket tighter around them both, her lips pale, her breath weak.“It’s… colder,” Beth murmured, her voice thin, distant. “Without them.”Celeste didn’t look up. She didn’t want to see their wrists. Didn’t want to see the shattered remains of what she had made for them—the woven bracelets that had once held something at bay.
They were safe before. Because of me. Because of those.
Now?Now they were as exposed as she was.“I’ll fix it,” Celeste promised. She had no idea how.The cavern felt different tonight. Heavier. The darkness stretched deeper, breathing with something alive.She swallowed back the lump in her throat and pressed her bloodied fingertips to her sternum, the final mark complete. The ritual was set. The words were spoken.Now she had to wait.Wait for the thing in the dark to come.Wait for the moment she would offer herself up as its prison.
Wait.
Beth groaned in her sleep. Hannah whimpered, curling into herself for warmth that would not come.Celeste clenched her fists. She would not fail them.She could not.The fire burned lower.The darkness whispered.And then—It took her.An overwhelming force crashed into her like a wave, drowning her from the inside out. The cavern twisted, the flames roared high, the shadows stretched and swallowed her whole.Celeste choked, hands flying to her throat—no, inside her throat, something else pressing into her, forcing its way through her mind, her body, her soul—Her mouth opened in a silent scream.She was no longer alone.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"I'm leaving a piece of my soul

Don't think I'll ever go home"
   Mike sat in the dimly lit living room, his fingers clenched into his jeans. His mother sat across from him, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea that had long since gone cold. Her gaze was distant, red-rimmed from exhaustion and grief.“They’re slowing the search,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “The authorities… they think it’s unlikely they’ll find anything at this point.”Mike swallowed hard. He could feel the sting behind his eyes, the weight pressing down on his chest like a stone.“But they haven’t stopped, right?” His voice cracked. “They’re still looking?”His mother hesitated, then reached across the table to take his hand. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”That broke something inside him.He clenched his jaw, looking away, but it didn’t stop the first tear from slipping down his cheek. His mother stood, crossing the small space between them to cup the back of his head, pulling him into her embrace. He let her, burying his face against her shoulder as silent sobs shook his frame.He blamed himself. God, he blamed himself.If he hadn’t gone along with Jessica’s prank. If he had stopped them. If he had done anything differently.Celeste was gone.His little Star was gone.His mother’s fingers ran through his hair, the same way she had when he was a kid and had woken up from nightmares. Only this time, there was no waking up.They sat like that for a long time, until his mother finally pulled away with a quiet sniff. “We need to leave for your grandmother’s soon.”Mike just nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak.   Upstairs, he hesitated before opening Celeste’s door.It was mostly neat. Not like a perfectly kept room, but lived in—as if she’d be back any second. He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him, and let out a breath.He ran his hand over the bedding, then sat down, elbows on his knees.
God, Cece…
His gaze drifted across the room, and that’s when he saw it.A faint gleam from inside her closet.Curious, he got up, walking over. He pushed open the door and flicked on the closet light.Inside, his breath hitched.An altar.Neatly arranged objects lay before him—stones, small bones, candles burned halfway down. Feathers tied together with string. A bowl filled with ash. A stack of books lined the shelf above it, alongside photographs, some of which had symbols inked over them.Mike exhaled shakily, reaching for one of the books.He flipped it open.It was handwritten—Cece’s careful script filling the pages with notes on spirituality, healing, shamanism.He flipped through more, recognizing her drawings in the margins, her annotations scribbled in the edges of paragraphs.And then he found it.A book, different from the rest.The drawings here were darker. Sharper. There were creatures—things with hollow eyes and gaping mouths, figures wreathed in smoke, twisted limbs. His heart pounded as he turned the pages.And then he saw the word.
Wendigo.
The sketches beneath it sent a shiver down his spine.A gust of air rustled the pages, though there was no open window.Mike swallowed thickly, his fingers gripping the book tighter.“Mike?” His mother’s voice carried from downstairs. “We need to go.”He snapped the book shut.One last glance at Celeste’s altar, and he turned off the closet light, stepping back into the room.Whatever Cece had been studying, whatever she had been preparing for…She had known something.And now she was gone.    Mike sat stiffly in the living room of his grandmother’s house, his hands pressed together between his knees. The scent of dried herbs and old wood filled the air, the warmth of the fire doing little to thaw the icy pit in his stomach.His mother sat beside him, rubbing her temples, eyes puffy from the long car ride and the grief weighing them both down. Across from them, his grandmother sat quietly, watching them both with knowing eyes.He swallowed hard, then spoke."Grandma... I'm sorry."She didn’t react, only tilted her head slightly.“I—” His voice cracked. “I should have stopped them. I should have known. I was right there, and I let it happen.” His hands curled into fists. “It’s my fault Celeste—”His grandmother raised a wrinkled hand, and he fell silent.She reached for something beside her chair, fingers brushing against a small wooden box. Lifting the lid, she pulled out a delicate bracelet—woven with beads and animal bone, a familiar pattern that made Mike’s throat tighten.It was Celeste’s.His grandmother held it out to him.“She is alive,” she said simply. “If this had broken, she would be beyond our reach.”Mike stared at the bracelet in her hand, his breath hitching.His mother sighed beside him, rubbing her forehead. “Mom, please… I can’t put all my hope into spiritual nonsense right now.”His grandmother’s sharp gaze flicked to her daughter. “And yet here you are, exhausted from grief, while I still have hope.” She turned back to Mike. “You should, too.”Mike took the bracelet carefully, running his fingers over its familiar texture. It was warm, like it had been resting in the sun.“She was always meant for something great,” his grandmother murmured. “You must trust her will to survive. I taught her everything I know. She is more than ready to live in the wilds. You, Michael, must never stop hoping.”He swallowed thickly and nodded.Then, hesitantly, he said, “I found something in her room.”His grandmother arched a brow.“She had an altar,” he admitted, “and books. A lot of books. Few of them… they had something about different creatures.”Her lips pressed together, as if she had expected this.Mike leaned forward, his heart hammering. “What was she preparing for?”His grandmother held his gaze. “Read those books, Michael. They will be helpful in the future.”He hesitated. “How do you know that?”She gave him the smallest of smiles.“Sometimes,” she said softly, “the spirits tell me everything I need to know.”     Celeste shivered as she pulled her jacket tighter around her, though it did little to stop the unnatural chill seeping into her bones. The flickering firelight cast long shadows across the cavern walls, the dying embers barely keeping the darkness at bay.She exhaled shakily, staring at her hands. They trembled, but not from the cold.It had started hours ago—the pull. Like invisible strings hooked into her muscles, tightening, twisting. The sensation had been subtle at first, a flicker of pressure in the back of her mind, the strange feeling of being watched from the inside. Then came the hunger.Not the dull ache of an empty stomach. No, this was something deeper, more insidious. It gnawed at her insides, sharp and endless, like a bottomless pit waiting to be filled.A name curled in her thoughts, foreign yet familiar.
Makkapitew.
She didn’t know how she knew. She just did. The name sat heavy on her tongue, unspoken but real. It suited him—this thing inside her, burrowing into her soul like a parasite.And the worst part?She didn’t hate it.A sick thrill curled in her gut, not unlike the feeling she got when walking too close to the edge of a cliff—dizzying, terrifying, but exhilarating all the same.
No. No, this isn’t you, Cece.
She clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms. She needed to focus. Control.Across the fire, Beth shifted slightly, mumbling something in her sleep. Hannah barely moved beside her, breathing shallow and uneven. They were both in bad shape. Too weak.Celeste needed to stay strong.But the hunger only grew.A flicker of movement. Her fingers twitched without her consent, her hand curling—slowly, almost curiously. The muscles in her arm tensed as though someone else was testing them, pushing them.She bit down on the inside of her cheek, forcing her body still.
You don’t control me.
The darkness inside her only laughed.Celeste inhaled sharply, pressing a shaking hand to her forehead.She had to figure this out. Fast. Because if she couldn’t resist the cravings, if she let this thing consume her…Then Beth and Hannah weren’t just trapped with her.They were prey.    Celeste moved carefully, keeping her breathing steady as she adjusted Beth and Hannah’s positions. They needed to be out of the draft—somewhere warmer, somewhere safer.The cavern walls offered little comfort, jagged rock pressing into her knees as she worked, but she ignored it. One task at a time.Beth barely stirred when Celeste pulled her closer to the rock wall, curling her against Hannah. Hannah, on the other hand, let out a weak, pained noise when Celeste shifted her weight.“Shh,” Celeste murmured, brushing damp hair from Hannah’s forehead. “I know, Han. Just hang on, okay?”Hannah’s only response was a shuddered breath, her lips barely parting before she fell still again.Celeste swallowed past the tightness in her throat.The fire. She needed to fix the fire.The embers had shrunk to little more than a dim glow, their meager warmth barely cutting through the freezing air. If it went out completely… No. Not happening.She gathered what she could—scraps of wood, torn fabric, even old paper remnants left behind by whoever had once used this place. She rebuilt the flames, small but steady, and stacked rocks around it to create a makeshift fireplace. The wind still howled from the cavern’s entrance, but at least now, the fire wouldn’t die so easily.Satisfied, she turned back to the others.Beth still slept, curled in on herself. Hannah, though, was trembling.Shit.Celeste shrugged off her hat and placed it gently on Hannah’s head, then peeled off her jacket and draped it over both of them.That was better. Not great, but better.She exhaled slowly, shifting her focus.Hannah’s leg.The break was bad—Celeste had known that from the moment she’d seen it—but now that she had time to actually assess, her stomach twisted. The unnatural angle, the swelling… They couldn’t move her. Not unless they wanted to make it worse.Alright. Okay. Think.Celeste grabbed a relatively clean strip of cloth and bit down, tearing it into smaller pieces. She’d need sterile bandages—something to keep pressure off the wound, stop infection.Her training wasn’t extensive, but it was enough. Enough to know that setting the bone was out of the question. Enough to know that without a proper splint, Hannah wasn’t going anywhere.She searched the cavern, hands skimming through the debris. Old wooden scraps, broken pieces of furniture, discarded metal rods—anything remotely useful.Eventually, she found what she needed. Two solid pieces of wood, sturdy enough to support Hannah’s leg.She placed them carefully, one on each side, padding them with whatever cloth she had left. Then, using the longest strips, she tied the splints in place, securing them as gently as possible.Hannah whimpered.“I know, I know,” Celeste murmured, tightening the last knot. “I’m sorry, Han.”One last thing.Ice.There wasn’t exactly a freezer stocked with medical-grade ice packs down here, but Celeste was nothing if not resourceful.She found a thin sheet of plastic, one that had been buried under old debris, and dragged it over to the fire to clean it as best as she could. Holding the edges over the flames, she melted them together, sealing three sides shut.Then, with careful hands, she gathered snow, crushed it into finer pieces, and poured it inside before sealing the last edge shut.A makeshift ice pack.It wouldn’t last long, but it would help.She wrapped it in another strip of cloth before placing it gently over Hannah’s leg, letting the cold soothe some of the swelling.One final thing.Shock.Hannah’s breathing was uneven, her skin pale despite the fire’s glow. Celeste knew the signs.“Alright, sweetheart,” she muttered, moving quickly. She lifted Hannah’s legs slightly—not too much, just enough. Keeping her stable. Keeping her here.Hannah’s body shivered, but her breathing slowed.Good.Celeste sat back, pressing a hand over her own face.One task at a time.And yet, even as she focused on them—on keeping them alive—the hunger remained.Curling in her gut.Twisting in her chest.Makkapitew was pleased.And that?That scared her more than anything.     Sleep came slowly.Celeste fought it at first, unwilling to let go of the waking world, but exhaustion won in the end. Her body gave in to the cold, to the fire’s dim glow, to the quiet sound of Beth’s breathing and the occasional shuddering whimper from Hannah.But rest did not bring peace.The moment her eyes closed, darkness swallowed her whole.Then—
Screams.
Celeste’s breath hitched as she stood in the middle of a dimly lit corridor, the scent of rot and decay thick in the air. The walls were cracked, peeling paint curling away like dead skin. Rusted doors lined the hallway, their metal surfaces streaked with something dark, something that had dried long ago.She tried to move, but her limbs were not her own.Her fingers twitched, too long, too thin, too sharp.Her breathing was ragged, but it wasn’t hers. It was deep, guttural—hungry.Somewhere down the hall, something whimpered.Celeste felt herself turn, movements unnatural, jerky, the way something might move if it had forgotten how to be human.A shadow loomed ahead.A man—thin, shaking—was pressed against the wall, his face gaunt with terror. His uniform was torn, a broken nametag barely clinging to his chest. Sanatorium staff.A patient’s gown was no better than a prison uniform, and Celeste could feel the distant remnants of chains dragging behind her. The floor was slick beneath clawed feet, nails clicking on the tile.The man tried to run.Celeste lunged—no, not her, not her, not her—Teeth sank into flesh.The taste of blood.A horrible, wet tearing sound as the body beneath her struggled, then went limp.Celeste gasped, staggering back—except she couldn’t move. She wasn’t in control.The hunger overwhelmed her, a beast thrashing inside her ribs, consuming everything, taking more and more and more—Her stomach twisted as the memory—not hers, not hers— consumed her instead.The vision shifted.Darkness.Then, a new scene.A shattered mirror reflected something monstrous.A gaunt face stretched impossibly thin, skin sickly and mottled. A mouth filled with jagged, bloodstained teeth.Eyes that glowed.A body that was once human but was now wrong.Makkapitew.The reflection laughed.Celeste could feel it, vibrating through her bones, through her very being. It wasn’t a sound. It was a possession.Her lips parted, and she heard herself whisper.
I see you.
She woke with a gasp.The cavern was still, the fire barely flickering. Beth and Hannah remained asleep, oblivious to the way Celeste clutched her chest, her breath uneven, her fingers trembling.The hunger gnawed.The darkness inside her curled in satisfaction.She had seen. And worse?She had understood.

You can feel it, can't you?
Celeste stiffened. The voice slithered through her mind, smooth as silk, cold as death. It didn’t echo in the cave like Beth and Hannah’s soft breaths did—no, it resonated inside her, curling around her thoughts like smoke.She swallowed hard, glaring into the fire as if she could burn the voice away.So hungry. The whisper dripped with amusement, with knowing. It hurts, doesn’t it? A wound that never heals.Celeste exhaled sharply through her nose. Ignore it.Poor little Star, it cooed, the name making her skin crawl. Shivering, aching. You don’t have to suffer, you know. I can make it stop.Her fingers dug into the fabric of her dirtied white jacket. "Shut up," she muttered under her breath.
Why fight? You know what you are now. What we are.
Celeste laughed bitterly. "We? No, see, you’re some ancient, flesh-craving nightmare. I am just a really unlucky girl with a really bad sense of direction."And yet, the voice hummed, you found your way to me.Celeste scowled. "More like you found your way into me. Real classy, by the way."The voice chuckled, dark and knowing. I could teach you, you know. To be more than what you are. Stronger. Unbreakable. Immortal.Celeste rolled her eyes. "Oh, great. So I could live forever eating people in a cave? Hard pass."You say that now, Makkapitew purred, but what happens when your body gives in? When the hunger twists you into something new? Because it will, little shaman. You can fight, but in the end?A pause.
You will be mine.
A cold shudder ran through her spine.Celeste gritted her teeth. "Then I guess you’ll just have to deal with being really fucking disappointed."Silence.Then, a low, dark chuckle.
We’ll see.

Celeste exhaled softly, her breath clouding in the frigid air.Her fingers curled tighter around the crude torch she’d fashioned—a thick piece of broken wood wrapped with torn cloth from her already ruined top. The fire flickered weakly, barely enough to light more than a few feet ahead, but it was better than nothing.She hated this.She hated the silence, the deep, endless dark stretching before her, the way every shadow seemed to breathe.But she hated the hunger more.Beth and Hannah needed food. She needed food. The gnawing, twisting ache in her stomach had been growing by the hour, and if she had to chew on a rat to make it stop, then so be it.A bitter laugh nearly slipped past her lips."Should’ve gone on those stupid survival trips with Mike," she muttered under her breath, wincing as a sharp throb shot through her ribs. Yeah. Definitely cracked. Maybe even broken.Not that it mattered.Her feet carried her deeper into the mines, slow, cautious steps against the uneven ground. Her mother’s voice rang in the back of her mind—Complaining never helped anybody.Sure. Maybe.But damn, it made her feel better sometimes.She stepped over a rusted old rail, her torchlight catching glimpses of debris—splintered wood, discarded tools, an old lantern long since broken. There had to be rats somewhere.Right?Her fingers tightened around the torch as she moved forward, scanning the ground. A few more steps, and then—
Click. Click. Click.
Celeste froze.The sound was soft, deliberate, almost like the tapping of nails against stone. It came from up ahead, just beyond her torchlight.Her breath caught in her throat.Slowly, she lifted the torch higher, squinting into the darkness.And then she saw it.Thin. Gaunt. Twisted.Its limbs were too long, its body stretched and skeletal, its skin taut over sharp bones. It crouched near the cavern wall, barely visible in the weak light, head tilted in an unnatural angle.Its fingers twitched.Celeste’s heart slammed against her ribs.What the fuck.She didn’t move. She didn’t breathe.Neither did it.Then—click. Click. Click.A slow, deliberate tilt of its head. The air felt colder, heavier.Her pulse roared in her ears, but she swallowed down the panic, forcing herself to stay still.It hadn’t attacked. Not yet. It was watching.Her grip on the torch tightened.The creature shifted slightly, and in the dim light, she caught a glimpse of its face—or what was left of it.Sunken eyes, an elongated jaw, sharp, jagged teeth stained dark.But something about it was different.It didn’t move like a hunter. It didn’t lunge.It just… watched.Celeste exhaled shakily, her mind racing.Was it waiting? Testing her?Or was it—Her stomach twisted.Was it curious?Celeste could feel the dark presence inside her twist, like it was looking back at it. A small feeling, a fleeting thing really, could be felt from Makkapitew, before it gathered back into its original place. A warning not to attack. For the first time since waking up in this nightmare, she felt something other than pure terror.Something almost like… understanding. She was not food, so that meant she was to be used for something else. She didn’t know if it was a good thing or not, but one thing was sure, she had time. Not a lot, but every minute would be important.And then, just as quickly as it had appeared—It was gone. A flicker of movement, a shadow slipping into the deeper dark.Celeste staggered back, her breath ragged, her ribs screaming in protest.What the hell had she just seen?She had no right answer, only an incling. It came unbidden, slipping into her mind the same way the firelight caught glimpses of things lurking just beyond sight.It was a wendigo. There were such flesh-eaters in this mountain. This mountain was truly cursed.What was she going to do with wendigos roaming the place?She was truly fucked.     Celeste crouched low, her fingers tightening around the tail of a struggling rat. The little bastard twisted, trying to bite her, but she yanked it up swiftly and slammed it against the stone floor. A sharp crack, a final twitch, then stillness.Seven.Seven rats caught today. Four good ones, the others too scrawny to bother with.Her body ached from the effort. Crawling through the debris, setting up crude little traps with whatever junk she could find, waiting in silence for hours—it had taken everything she had.But she did it.She wasn’t going back empty-handed.Celeste exhaled, wiping sweat from her brow, ignoring the way her ribs protested. She could rest later. Right now, she just needed to—
Click. Click. Click.
A shiver ran down her spine.Slowly, she turned her head.It was back.The thing from before—gaunt, skeletal, its jagged teeth barely visible in the dim light. It clung to the cavern wall like a grotesque spider, its elongated fingers twitching against the rock.It was watching her.Celeste didn’t move. Her grip tightened on her makeshift bag—a torn scrap of cloth, tied together at the corners, bulging with her grim little haul.The Wendigo’s head tilted.Then, it clicked again.A slow, deliberate sound. Testing. Prodding.Her stomach twisted.It had followed the scent of blood.She huffed out a quiet breath, glancing down at her bag.Four left.
Fuck it.
Celeste reached in and grabbed the fattest rat.She didn’t know why she did it. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was some part of her recognizing hunger in something else.Or maybe she just wanted to see what would happen.Without a word, she gently tossed the rat forward.It landed with a dull thud between them.The Wendigo’s head snapped toward it.For a moment, nothing happened.Then—a blur of movement.Bones cracked, flesh tore, and in seconds, the rat was gone.Celeste swallowed.The Wendigo didn’t move toward her. It didn’t lunge.It just… ate.And for the first time, she realized—she and the twins weren’t the only ones starving.Her pulse pounded in her ears as she carefully, slowly, stepped back.The Wendigo didn’t stop her. It was too focused on its meal.Celeste exhaled and turned away, gripping her bag tighter.She didn’t run.She just walked. Steady. Slow. Don’t act like prey.The clicking didn’t follow her.By the time she reached the stalactite cave, the fire was still burning.A small mercy.She set the bag down carefully, pulling out the remaining four rats.With steady hands, she retrieved the small pocket knife she’d found at the watermill. It was rusted, old, but still sharp enough to get the job done.She skinned the rats with quiet precision, her fingers numb, her mind distant.By the time she finished, the scent of roasting meat filled the cave.A soft groan.Celeste glanced up just as Beth stirred, blinking blearily.Then Hannah made a weak, tired noise beside her.They smelled it.They were waking up.For the first time in days they had food.     The scent of roasted meat lingered in the stale cavern air, thick and heavy. It wasn’t pleasant, not really—burnt hair, blood, the metallic tang of something that should never be food. But to Celeste, Beth, and Hannah, it might as well have been a feast.Celeste sat cross-legged by the fire, turning one of the rat carcasses over, watching the flames crisp the skin. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.She picked at the meat, tearing off small bites, chewing slowly. The texture was awful—chewy, gamy, tough in places where the fire hadn’t done its job—but it was food.Across from her, Hannah let out a shaky breath. “This is disgusting,” she muttered.Beth shot her a look, already halfway through her own. “Then don’t eat.”Hannah glared but took another bite anyway.Celeste huffed a quiet laugh. Same old twins.Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken things. The only sound was the distant crackle of the fire and the occasional drip of water from the cavern ceiling.Beth set her half-eaten meal down. “So,” she said, hesitating, “I guess we should talk about what happened.”Celeste didn’t answer right away.She already knew what Beth meant.The prank.Hannah tensed beside her, shoulders drawn up tight.Celeste exhaled through her nose. “Yeah,” she muttered, pulling her knees up and resting her chin on them. “We probably should.”Beth hesitated. “Hannah…”“I don’t want to talk about it,” Hannah snapped, too quickly.Beth’s expression softened. “Han—”“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”Celeste glanced at Hannah from the corner of her eye. Her jaw was tight, and even in the dim light, her face was still flushed with embarrassment.It had been two months.And it still burned.Celeste sighed. “It was fucked up.”Beth looked away. “I know.”“No,” Celeste said, sharper. “You don’t. It wasn’t just a joke, Beth. It was cruel.”Beth flinched.Hannah’s fingers clenched around the scrap of meat in her hand. “I thought he liked me,” she whispered, barely audible.Celeste’s stomach twisted.Beth reached out but hesitated before touching Hannah’s shoulder. Hannah’s fingers loosened. She didn’t look up, but after a moment, she took another bite.Celeste shifted, pushing the conversation forward. “What matters now is that we figure out what the hell we’re gonna do.”Beth exhaled. “We need to get out of here.”“No shit,” Celeste muttered. “But we can’t move Hannah, not yet.” She gestured vaguely to the crude splint on Hannah’s leg. “I did what I could, but she’s not walking anytime soon.”Beth pressed her lips together. “Then what? We just sit here and hope someone finds us?”Celeste hesitated.And then, finally, she said it. “We’re not alone down here.”Both twins stilled.“…What do you mean?” Beth asked cautiously.Celeste ran her tongue over her teeth. “There’s something else down here. A lot of them.”Beth frowned. “People?”Celeste shook her head. “No.”Hannah swallowed. “Then… what?”Celeste inhaled slowly. “Wendigos.”Beth stared. “That’s not funny.”“I’m not joking.”Beth shook her head. “That’s—that’s just a stupid story—”“It’s not. I’ve seen one so far, one another that I know of.”Beth opened her mouth to argue, but the way Celeste looked at her—serious, steady, completely unshaken—made her stop short.Hannah, quiet all this time, was the one who finally spoke. “What are they?”Celeste glanced toward the mouth of the cave, where the dark stretched endlessly beyond the firelight.She licked her lips.And then she told them.Everything.      Celeste moved through the tunnels like she belonged there.Her steps were careful, deliberate. The flickering firelight behind her barely reached this far, but it didn’t matter—she could see. Not clearly, not like daylight, but… enough. The outlines of jagged rock, the uneven ground, the shifting shadows that weren’t entirely hers.She exhaled through her nose, steadying her breath. Stay low. Stay quiet. Move slow.The rats were getting harder to catch. After the first hunt, she thought it would get easier—but now, they were learning. They hid better, scattered before she even got close.They knew she was hunting them.Something about that realization sent a strange thrill down her spine.Celeste paused, her fingers flexing against the cold stone wall. Wait. Listen.A skittering sound. Tiny claws against rock. The scent of filth and damp fur.
There.
Her body moved before she thought. Her muscles tensed, her weight shifted—and she leaped.Her fingers closed around the rat’s writhing body in an instant. It squealed, wriggling violently, but her grip was strong.Too strong. The bones beneath her fingers snapped.She barely even squeezed.Celeste stared down at the limp creature in her hands, her breath slow and measured. That was… too easy.A laugh curled in the back of her mind, deep and dark.
Good girl.
Makkapitew.His presence pressed against hers, cold and insidious, curling into the spaces of her thoughts like smoke.You feel it, don’t you? His voice was smug, rumbling like a growl just beneath her skin. The strength. The power. It comes so naturally.Celeste clenched her jaw, resisting the shiver that threatened to run through her.She didn’t answer him. Didn’t acknowledge the way her heart raced, not with fear but something else.Something primal.Something that made her want to hunt.Makkapitew purred, pleased. You fight me, but you do not fight yourself.Her fingers tightened around the dead rat.She wasn’t like him.She wasn’t.Celeste exhaled slowly and turned back toward the cave, keeping her steps light, silent.She didn’t notice how easily she moved now.How natural it felt.And she didn’t see the faint glint of eyes in the darkness behind her, watching. Waiting.
You’re learning.
The voice purred inside her skull, rich with amusement. Celeste could feel it—him—coiling around the edges of her mind, testing her like a predator circling its prey. But she wasn’t prey. Not yet.She let her lips curl into a slow smile. "Maybe I just like a challenge," she murmured, stretching her fingers in the firelight.Makkapitew stirred within her, intrigued. You should be afraid.Celeste tilted her head, fingers brushing absently against her collarbone. "Oh, I am. Terrified, actually." She inhaled, deliberately slow. "But fear is… interesting. Makes people do all sorts of things."A hum of approval. And what will it make you do, little shaman?She let her body relax, just enough. The Wendigo’s presence curled tighter around her, sensing the shift, the subtle invitation."You like hunger, don’t you?" she mused, letting her voice drop just a little lower. "The way it burns. Twists." She traced a line down her own arm, feeling the goosebumps rise. "I wonder if it feels the same for you."A deep, rasping chuckle. You play a dangerous game.Celeste smirked. "And you like it."A pause.The air in the cave grew heavier. She felt her muscles tense—not from fear, but something else. A shift in control. A tug-of-war neither of them wanted to lose.You amuse me, Makkapitew admitted. But make no mistake—this game? You will lose.Celeste exhaled, slow and measured, before closing her eyes. "Then let’s make it interesting."For a moment, there was only silence.Then, the sensation of claws trailing ghost-light over her skin, hunger curling deep in her gut.And a voice, dark and eager.
Oh, little shaman… you already have.
    The fire crackled softly, casting shifting shadows along the cavern walls. Celeste’s breathing had long since evened out, her body succumbing to exhaustion, but her mind—her mind was never fully her own anymore.She drifted.And then, the world shifted.The cave dissolved into a realm of twilight, an expanse of mist curling at her bare feet. The air smelled of damp earth, blood, and something ancient. Celeste knew before she turned that he was already there. Watching.A towering figure emerged from the gloom. The Makkapitew’s form was grotesque yet enthralling—woven from nightmares and something deeper, something primal. His body was a contradiction of elements: sleek black fur ran down his back, blending into the dark feathers that framed his shoulders like a fallen predator’s wings. The monstrous ribcage jutted outward, bare and open, like an eternal hunger that could never be filled. His head was crowned with massive, gnarled antlers, his face a distorted mix of animal and something otherworldly—a deer's skull sharpened by cruelty, its black eyes burning with unnatural intelligence.Celeste swallowed. God help her. He was… beautiful. In the most terrible way. "You brought me here," his voice coiled around her, deep and knowing.Celeste took a slow step forward, bare feet sinking into nothingness. "Maybe."He tilted his head, assessing her, those abyss-like eyes searching. It made shivers go through her body, hotness layered her cheeks."You think this is your domain." A rasping chuckle. "That you have control."Celeste’s lips curled into a smile. "Isn’t it?"She lifted a hand, reaching out—not timid, not fearful. Her fingers brushed along the exposed ribs, tracing the jagged edges. He did not flinch. The air between them crackled with unspoken challenge.
"You mistake indulgence for weakness, little shaman."
"Or maybe you mistake hunger for power," she countered, pressing closer. "You crave, don’t you? Always. And yet…" Her fingers danced higher, along the powerful curve of his chest, the sleek fur and hardened flesh beneath her touch. "You’ve never tasted this kind of hunger before, have you?"A stillness. A hesitation. He was definitely intrigued.Celeste smiled against the silence, knowing she had found the thread to pull."Let me show you," she whispered.The Makkapitew’s breath came slow and deep, a sound between amusement and something darker. The massive talons on the ground twitched, aching to grip, to take, to consume.
"And what will you give?"
Celeste’s fingers curled into the fur at his chest, her heartbeat steady, her control absolute. She tilted her head, eyes gleaming with a predator’s cunning."Enough to keep you coming back for more."A deep, bone-rattling growl. The vibration going trough her whole body.And then, darkness swallowed them whole.Oh well, she would have him surrender one way or another.

Celeste’s breath came in ragged gasps, her fingers trembling from both cold and the raw energy pulsing through her veins. The cavern reeked of death and decay, a scent so thick it clung to the back of her throat like oil.The presence inside her stirred.
Run.
She barely had time to react before the first shadow lunged from the darkness.Not the nice one. 
Something bigger. Meaner.
A hulking form, gaunt and twisted, its limbs moving with an unnatural speed. One of the old miners—an ancient Wendigo, its bones jutting against its tight, leathery flesh. Its hollow eyes gleamed with madness, and its jagged mouth unhinged with a rattling shriek.Celeste stumbled backward, the hunger inside her thrumming. Her vision blurred for a second—no, not blurred, shifted.For the briefest moment, she felt the world through Makkapitew’s senses. The intruder was almost glowing in the dark.Hunger. Hunger so vast it was unbearable. The miner’s flesh wasn’t prey—it was competition. An obstacle. A threat.Makkapitew rumbled inside her, his voice dark and edged with anger. Another one?Celeste barely processed the words before the Wendigo lunged.It came fast.But Celeste came faster.A force not entirely her own moved through her—a shadow of the Wendigo’s speed, its instincts bleeding into hers. She twisted, barely avoiding the swipe, the wind from its strike slicing across her skin like a blade.Use me. The voice in her mind was smug, coaxing. You won’t survive without me.Celeste gritted her teeth. “Fine then, only for a little while.”She let go—partially—allowing the dark spirit inside her to push through, just enough to shift her muscles, to heighten her reflexes, to let her body remember what it was like to move with unnatural precision.The miner snarled, lunging again. Celeste ducked, her own hands reacting before her mind caught up—her nails raking across its side. Not human nails, not anymore. The impact sent it staggering back.A growl echoed in her mind—satisfaction. She let it go through her lips.Makkapitew.This is my hunting ground, he snarled, his voice a deep, territorial growl. It does not belong here.Celeste bit her thumb hard, drawing blood, and dragged it over her palm in a quick, fluid motion. The old words tumbled from her lips before she could second-guess them—a chant of binding, of control.The cavern air thickened. The spirits shifted.The Wendigo shrieked as if something unseen pressed down on it.Makkapitew growled in approval, his rage curling through her like smoke. Yes. Crush it. Show it who owns this place.Celeste’s lips curled back in something that wasn’t quite a snarl, wasn’t quite a grin. She took a slow, predatory step forward.The miner-wendigo twitched, faltered. It packed down and left quickly. It knew. 
This was Makkapitew’s territory.
And Celeste was his.For a split second, she wasn’t sure who had won.

Celeste hissed as she dabbed at the gash on her forearm, the makeshift bandage already stained with blood. She sat near the fire, legs stretched out, her ribs aching from the earlier fight. The bastard had gotten in a good hit—fast, vicious, merciless. If she hadn’t reacted in time, she’d probably be dead.Her fingers trembled as she tightened the bandage.A soft clicking sound echoed through the cavern.Celeste froze. Her body tensed instinctively, breath catching in her throat.Then she saw him.Charles, as she had dubbed him as.He emerged from the darkness, moving slow, deliberate. His skeletal frame shifted awkwardly, but his movements weren’t aggressive. If anything, they were… careful. Measured.Something dark and heavy stirred inside her.Makkapitew.Celeste’s eyes flicked down—and that’s when she saw it.A corpse. A large, fat animal—a hare, maybe, or some kind of mountain rodent. Its neck had been snapped clean, the flesh unmarred.Charles clicked again, stepping closer. He nudged the carcass forward with one elongated claw and then…He crooned.A soft, almost questioning sound.Celeste blinked. What. The. Hell?For a long moment, neither of them moved.Then, slowly, she reached out, fingers brushing against the still-warm body of the animal.Makkapitew stirred, bristling.Disgusting. His voice curled in her head, sharp and annoyed. What is it doing?Celeste smirked, inspecting the hare. I don’t know. Seems like he brought me a gift.Makkapitew hissed.
Not a gift. A claim.
That made her pause. She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly as she studied the wendigo in front of her. Charles had lowered himself slightly, his body language… expectant. Like he was waiting.Makkapitew growled lowly. You are not like him. He is treating you as pack.Celeste scoffed. And that’s a bad thing because…?
Because you are mine.
She felt his territorial rage curling through her veins, felt the way he seethed as Charles watched her, waited.Celeste let the words roll in her mind.Pack.She glanced at Charles again.And—just to be a little shit—she took the hare and gave him a slow, knowing smile."Thanks, Charles," she murmured, before turning back to skin the animal.The darkness inside her hissed.

Celeste woke to the scent of charred meat and smoke curling in the cold air. Her body ached, her limbs stiff from another restless night. It took her a moment to register the small, bloodied carcass resting near the dying embers of last night's fire.Another offering.Her breath hitched as she sat up, scanning the darkness beyond the firelight. The tunnels were silent except for the faint sound of dripping water. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was there. Charles. Lurking just beyond the edge of her awareness, watching.Before she could move, a sharp voice slithered through her mind.
Do not take it.
Makkapitew’s growl rumbled through her skull, low and cold with displeasure. Celeste shivered, but not from the chill. His influence pressed against her like a weight on her chest, clawing at her mind, trying to twist her instincts.
Filthy. Disgusting. You do not need his scraps. You will take what I give you… when I allow it.
Celeste clenched her jaw, her fingers curling into fists against the stone floor."I don’t see you bringing me breakfast," she muttered under her breath.The presence inside her curled in rage. Her stomach twisted violently, a sudden surge of nausea washing over her. For a brief second, the cooked meat looked different—rotting, crawling with maggots, the smell turning putrid and rancid.Celeste exhaled sharply, forcing the image away. It was a trick. A sick, cruel trick.She reached out with shaking fingers, picking up the charred flesh. It was real. Warm. Her stomach clenched, this time with hunger, a raw, gnawing ache spreading through her ribs.You insult me by accepting his gifts, Makkapitew seethed, his voice like wind howling through dead trees. He is nothing. He is weak. You do not need him.Celeste swallowed back the bile rising in her throat."I need to survive," she whispered.A violent shudder ran through her body as Makkapitew’s fury pulsed through her, his presence writhing like a beast rattling the bars of its cage. But he couldn’t stop her. Not yet.Bringing the meat to her lips, she took a bite, chewing slowly, defiantly. The warmth spread through her frozen limbs, and as she swallowed, she felt Makkapitew recoil in disgust.For now, Charles remained in the shadows, and Makkapitew remained inside her.She would deal with both in time.

Celeste sat near the dwindling fire, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. The cavern walls seemed closer tonight, the shadows deeper, stretching unnaturally beyond the reach of the flames. The hunger gnawed at her insides, sharper than before, more than just a physical ache—it was something else, something primal and insidious, curling inside her ribs like a beast stirring in its sleep.
I can take it away.
Makkapitew's voice slithered through her skull, a slow, sickening caress.
Let me in. Let me show you what it means to never suffer again.
Celeste squeezed her eyes shut, her breathing uneven. It was getting harder to ignore him. The hunger had been bad before, but now it was unbearable, stretching beyond her stomach, into her veins, her bones. Her fingers twitched at her sides, restless, aching to claw into something, to rip and tear and devour—Just for a moment, the wendigo purred, latching onto the thought. Taste what I offer. You want to. You need to.A pulse of something electric coiled through her body—heat, power, need. Celeste gasped as it surged inside her, an intoxicating rush, too strong to fight, too good to stop. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, the fire before her flickering wildly as her vision blurred.She could feel him, not just in her mind, but deeper, wrapped around her like a second skin, pressing into her, whispering promises of strength, of pleasure, of things beyond human comprehension.A soft moan slipped from her lips before she could stop it.Yes, Makkapitew rumbled, his voice thick with satisfaction. Feel me. Let me consume you.Celeste barely noticed when her nails dug into her thighs hard enough to break skin, her body trembling with something she didn’t recognize—was it hunger, was it lust, was it power? The lines blurred, melted together, drowning her in an intoxicating haze of sensation.She could see it. The hunt. The thrill. The moment of impact when teeth met flesh, the hot gush of life spilling over her tongue, the way it burned through her body, stronger than fire, better than breath—No.Celeste’s breath hitched.No, no, no—She gasped, wrenching herself back, her head snapping up as she slammed herself against the cavern wall, forcing air into her lungs. Her entire body trembled violently, drenched in cold sweat. The hunger still roared inside her, but beneath it was something else.Something terrifying.The connection between them felt different now. Deeper. Stronger. Like something had shifted, something she couldn’t take back.Makkapitew laughed, low and dark. Now you understand.Celeste pressed her hand to her chest, feeling her racing heartbeat, feeling him entwined in it, deeper than before.She had let him in deep.And she wasn’t sure if she could push him back out.

The fire crackled low, its warmth barely reaching them. The hunger had been unbearable for days, but tonight, it felt different—worse. Beth sat against the cavern wall, shivering beneath Celeste’s jacket, her fingers curling over her stomach."I don’t get it," she murmured, voice hoarse. "Even when we eat, it’s like… I’m still starving.""Me too," Hannah admitted, rubbing her arms as if she could chase away the creeping cold beneath her skin. "It’s not just hunger—it’s deeper. Like something inside me is empty, and no matter what I eat, it won’t fill."Celeste’s breath caught in her throat.The wendigo spirits were already inside them.Not Makkapitew. He was hers—he couldn't take them. But others, lesser spirits of the same cursed nature, had found them vulnerable. She could feel them now, clinging to Beth and Hannah like shadows, siphoning away warmth, whispering to them in ways she couldn’t hear.And in the back of her mind, Makkapitew was smug.A slow, creeping satisfaction oozed through their bond, wordless but clear.Celeste’s hands curled into fists.She needed to act now.She couldn’t ask Charles for help—he was still a stranger lurking in the dark, not yet pack. But there was one thing she could try, one thing that had worked for her, that had allowed her to resist Makkapitew's control.She could make them like her.Celeste swallowed, the weight of the decision pressing down on her."I think I can stop it," she said finally. "But it won’t be easy. And if it works, it’s not something you can undo."Beth’s gaze snapped up, desperate but determined. "Whatever it is—I trust you, Cece."Hannah hesitated, glancing at her twin, then nodded. "Me too."Celeste exhaled slowly."Alright."She pulled out her knife, the edge glinting dully in the firelight. Carefully, she reached for Beth first, pressing the blade to the skin of her collarbone."Hold still," she whispered.Beth didn’t flinch.The first rune was simple—protection. The second, sacrifice. The third, something new. Celeste wasn’t just making them vessels; she was binding them, tying them to something greater, something she didn’t fully understand. The symbols wove together in intricate designs, hidden beneath their clothes, written in blood and intent.Hannah let out a sharp breath as Celeste cut into her skin next, but she didn’t pull away.Finally, Celeste turned the blade on herself, carving fresh runes into her own flesh.It had to work. It had to.With the last of her energy, she took the remaining sacred herbs from her pocket—the last of her prayers—and threw them into the fire.The flames surged higher for a moment before settling into a steady, eerie glow."Sit in a circle," Celeste instructed. The twins obeyed without question.Celeste closed her eyes.She started to chant.The words were old, older than the language she spoke, older than the spirits that haunted this mountain. They wove through the air like threads of unseen power, binding, sealing, calling.The cavern trembled.Makkapitew stirred violently inside her, realization dawning too late.His rage surged through their bond, searing, furious.
No.
Celeste clenched her jaw, her voice rising over his wrath.
You don’t get to decide this.
The fire flickered.Then—Darkness.A crushing, overwhelming nothingness swallowed them whole, snuffing out the flames and plunging the cavern into pure black.Celeste heard Beth and Hannah gasp—then silence.The world tilted, her limbs went numb.And then, everything faded.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"And to my sister, call me when you need some help
You know I'm with you, you're beautiful just as yourself"
   
He remembered falling.Rage had carried him through the wind and ice, hunger sharpening his every movement as he pursued the fragile little creatures down the mountainside. He had been so close—his claws had nearly touched her, the little shaman, his prize, before the fire erupted behind him.Pain.A howling, searing agony had burned through his flesh, his very essence, as the annoying human—the one they had called Jack Fiddler—dared to use the sacred fire against him.He had howled, fury drowning out his pain. He could still hear the old hunter’s voice, the rhythmic chants as he drove him back, forcing him to retreat deeper into the mines.He had wanted to tear him apart.But the flames had eaten at his limbs, his body, his mind, and he had been left with no choice. He had fled into the darkness, seething, watching the three girls as they fell—as their fragile bodies crashed down into his domain.And then—He had smelled her.Celeste Munroe.She was different from the others.The shaman blood in her called to him, tangled around his hunger like an intoxicating lure. It was not just her flesh that would satisfy him—it was her soul.She would make a perfect vessel.He had stalked her from the shadows, whispering to her in her nightmares, pressing against the edges of her mind. She had felt him. Known him. Fought him.And it had delighted him.The more she resisted, the more he wanted her.But now—Now, she had gone too far.Makkapitew snarled, his consciousness slamming against the invisible walls she had built between them. He could feel the binding, the unnatural tie she had created with her ritual.He was trapped.He could no longer consume her, could no longer take her body and make it his own. To make her watch as he slaughtered her friends. She had twisted the balance of power between them, shackled him in a way he had never expected.His rage boiled over.How dare she?How dare this little shaman—this fragile, mortal thing—turn the hunter into the hunted?He lashed out inside her, his fury shaking through their shared consciousness like a thunderclap. He wanted her to feel his wrath, to crumble beneath it.But instead—She stood firm.Makkapitew stilled.Something dark and instinctive coiled deep within him, something more primal than hunger, more ancient than fury.She had trapped him. Taken him as her own, shackled him to her soul.And yet—The thought sent a shudder of something almost like pleasure through his monstrous form.Cunning.Defiant.Possessive.She had bound him to her in a way that made him hers just as much as she was his. She had caged him with her own power, refused to kneel, refused to be his prey.The little shaman was not weak.She was not prey at all.She was a predator in her own right.Makkapitew’s lips curled back in something that was not quite a snarl, not quite a grin.
Interesting.

Beth woke up first.Her body ached—deep, throbbing pain that pulsed through her bones like an old wound refusing to heal. But something was different.She wasn’t cold anymore.Not like before, when the icy grip of winter had seeped into her skin, chilling her from the inside out. Now, there was warmth—deep and instinctive, curling at the core of her being, like a fire had been lit in her chest.Her senses sharpened all at once.She could hear Hannah’s breathing beside her, slow and steady as she roused from unconsciousness. She could feel the faint, rhythmic pulse of Celeste’s heartbeat just beyond them, still deep in whatever state she had fallen into.And she could smell something.Meat.Her stomach twisted in hunger so violently that she gasped, her fingers curling against the stone floor. It wasn’t just hunger—it was an ache, a need.She heard a small noise and turned to see Hannah stirring, blinking groggily. Their eyes met, and something clicked.
Hannah was hungry too.
Not just any hunger. A deep, instinctive craving.But for what?Beth felt her lips part slightly, her breathing hitching as her mind raced. They had eaten last night—or was it the night before? Celeste had given them meat, but… but…Beth shuddered.It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.Hannah sat up, groggy but alert, and Beth could read her in a way she hadn’t been able to before. It wasn’t just a guess—it was instinct.Hannah was confused. She felt off. Beth understood. She felt it too.A sound rumbled in her throat—something between a whimper and a growl, alien to her own ears. She pressed her hands against the ground, feeling her fingers flex, her nails digging into the dirt.Something was wrong.She turned sharply toward Celeste.Celeste was still unconscious.Beth swallowed hard.She was their alpha.The realization was immediate, instinctive—like a law written into her very bones. She didn’t know how she knew, only that she did.Celeste had done something.And now, they were changed.A low, uncertain noise came from Hannah as she held her arms around herself, rubbing at her skin like she was trying to feel what had happened to her.Beth could read her sister’s distress as easily as she could feel her own.
What did she do to us?
Beth turned her head slightly, listening—not with just her ears, but with something else. A deeper understanding that hadn’t been there before.They had a duty.They were guardians of the mountain now. They weren’t supposed to harm the creatures that roamed these woods. No—their instincts whispered something else.Something darker.Predators. But not for animals.Humans.Beth flinched, a shudder running down her spine.No. That wasn’t her. That wasn’t…But it was.It sat inside her, woven into her now, the same way the hunger was.The same way she could feel Celeste’s presence like an anchor, even though she was still lost in unconsciousness.She looked at Hannah.Hannah looked back.Beth swallowed.They had a family now—not just in blood, but something deeper. A bond that burned in their cores, as primal as the hunger twisting inside them.Hannah shivered slightly.Beth reached for Celeste.She was still under. Still lost.And Beth wasn’t sure if she could wake her or not.    Celeste opened her eyes—or at least, she thought she did.She was standing.That was the first thing she noticed.She hadn’t been standing before—she had been under, submerged in the heavy weight of ritual and exhaustion. But here, in this dream-space, she was upright, solid. Her breath curled into mist in the dim cavern, the air thick with something ancient and hungry.And then she felt him.A shadow in the corner of her mind, a deep rumble that vibrated through her bones before it became a presence in front of her.Makkapitew.He moved like a nightmare given form, stepping forward from the dark edges of the cave with a snarl so deep it sent a ripple through the very space around them. His hulking figure loomed, all jagged antlers, curling black fur, and the unmistakable gleam of hunger in his hollowed-out skull.And he was angry.No. More than that.He was furious.Before Celeste could react, he lunged.Clawed fingers wrapped around her throat.Celeste barely had time to gasp before her back slammed into the cavern wall. Her feet lifted off the ground as Makkapitew’s talons clenched, pressing down hard enough that she should have felt her windpipe crush—but…Nothing.No pain. No suffocation.It was like her body wasn’t even hers in this space.Makkapitew’s grip tightened. His sharp teeth gnashed together, a guttural sound tearing from him as if he were trying to force something to happen, to crush her, to end her.But nothing happened.Celeste stared at him.Then—She laughed.It started as a small giggle, barely restrained, before bubbling up into an uncontrollable, full-bodied laugh.A howling sort of laughter that echoed through the cavern, bouncing off the walls, filling the space with something that was not fear, something sharp and wild and delighted.Makkapitew snarled, his grip still tight around her throat, but his body went rigid as he realized what she had.He couldn’t kill her.He couldn’t hurt her.And neither could she harm him.Celeste wheezed through her laughter, finally prying his claws away from her throat and dropping back onto her feet.Makkapitew glared.She wiped her eyes. “Oh, oh—oh, that’s rich. I—” She gasped, still giggling. “I really—You really—Oh my God, you actually tried to kill me.”Makkapitew let out a low, simmering growl.Celeste wiped at her mouth, sucking in a deep breath as she tried to calm down.And then she looked around.For the first time, she noticed the details of their shared mind space.It was the same cave.The one she had collapsed in with Beth and Hannah. The same jagged walls, the same uneven ground. But there was a surreal quality to it, a stillness that made her stomach coil.She turned her gaze back to him.For a moment, she simply looked at him—his monstrous form, the way the dark fur curled down his shoulders like a mane, the stark, skeletal contrast of his face. And then, her eyes caught something new.Red markings.They streaked along the bone of his skull—faint but present.Her stomach twisted again, this time not from fear but from something instinctual, something she knew but didn’t understand.Makkapitew huffed, watching her closely.“You’re an idiot,” he finally said.Celeste blinked.“You’re an idiot,” he repeated, the words guttural and rough, “and cunning.” His large, clawed hand flexed at his side. “You didn’t even know what you were doing. You trusted the spirits, and yet you bound yourself to something you do not understand.”Celeste raised a brow, tilting her head. “You mean… you?”A deep growl rattled through him.She smiled. “Aw, don’t be such a sore loser. I just did to you what you were gonna do to me.”Makkapitew’s teeth clicked together.Celeste shrugged. “Though I guess you can still use my body if I let you.”Something shifted in the wendigo’s posture.He tilted his skull slightly, his glowing eyes burning into her as if… measuring her.Celeste hummed. “Maybe one day we can test-drive this whole thing. See what happens when I do let you.”For a long, drawn-out moment, neither of them spoke.Then—Makkapitew tilted his head just a little more, considering her.And Celeste, still grinning, tilted hers right back. Celeste gasped as she jolted awake.Her body was cold. The lingering weight of the dream clung to her, pressing against her ribs like a phantom hand. For a second, she swore she could still feel Makkapitew’s claws around her throat, his breath curling against her skin like frostbite.But she was awake now.The fire flickered low, casting long shadows against the stalactite-ridden cave. Beth and Hannah stirred beside her, their bodies curled up under whatever scraps of warmth they could find.Celeste swallowed hard.She needed to tell them.The weight of what she had done sat heavy in her chest, an iron brand against her ribs. It had been instinct—an act of desperation, a gamble she hadn’t fully understood.Now, she had to face the consequences.With a deep breath, she pushed herself up, groaning as her ribs protested. The movement was enough to stir Beth first, her best friend blinking blearily up at her.“Celeste?” Beth’s voice was hoarse, thick with exhaustion. “You okay?”Celeste gave a weak chuckle. “That’s… complicated.”Hannah shifted at that, cracking one eye open. “You’re always complicated,” she muttered, her voice rough but laced with that familiar sarcasm.Celeste huffed. Might as well rip the band-aid off.“I did something, in the ritual we just performed,” she started, running a hand through her hair. “Something big.”Beth sat up a little more. “What do you mean?”Celeste’s fingers curled into her palm. She licked her lips, trying to find the words, but in the end, there was only one way to say it.“I bound us to the mountain,” she admitted, voice quiet but firm. “The spirits. The dark ones. I made it so they can never take us. Possess us.” Her gaze flickered between them. “They can’t make us into them unless we let them.”Silence.The fire crackled.Hannah sat up completely now, staring at her with a look Celeste couldn’t quite place.Beth was the first to speak. “Wait—you mean… we can’t turn?”Celeste nodded, her stomach twisting. “They can still whisper. Still tempt us, we’ll still be hungry. But they can’t force it.” She hesitated. “But there’s a catch.”Hannah raised an eyebrow. “Of course there is.”Celeste swallowed. “We’re stuck here.”That made them both pause.Beth blinked, mouth opening slightly. “What do you mean?”Celeste exhaled through her nose. “We’re bound to the land now. The spirits, the curse… it won’t let us leave. Not completely.” She flexed her fingers. “I’m… I’m bound more than you two, but still. The mountain won’t let us go without a price.”Another stretch of silence.Celeste braced herself for anger. For betrayal. For hatred.But it never came.Instead, Beth let out a breath and shook her head. “You thought we’d be mad?”Celeste’s throat tightened. “Aren’t you?”Hannah huffed, rubbing her face. “Cece, we saw what happened to those things.” She lifted her head, meeting Celeste’s gaze. “If you really made it so we can’t turn into… that?” She shrugged. “Then I’d say you saved us.”Celeste blinked.Beth gave a small, tired smile. “You think we’d rather be dead?”Celeste looked between them. “I—” She hesitated. “I thought you’d hate me. For tying you to this place. For…” She trailed off.Hannah and Beth exchanged a glance.Then Hannah shrugged. “We were already stuck.” She offered a small smirk. “Now we’re just stuck with a cheat code.”Beth chuckled.And Celeste, after everything, felt herself finally breathe.

Beth was the first to notice.Celeste had been sitting with her back to them, tending to the deep scrapes on her arms, when Beth sucked in a sharp breath.“What the hell is wrong with your face?”Celeste frowned. “Thanks, Beth. Real sweet of you.”“No, I mean it—” Beth shifted forward, eyes locked on Celeste’s reflection in a pool of water.Celeste followed her gaze—only to freeze.The veins around her eyes were blackened, spreading like dark roots beneath her skin. It was subtle, but noticeable, the faintest stain of something not human.Her stomach coiled.Hannah rubbed her eyes, still groggy. “What’s going on?”Beth grabbed Celeste’s wrist, turning it over.“…Your wounds.”Celeste’s breath hitched.The scratches that had ripped open her skin just two days ago had already begun to knit together. What should have been raw, bleeding gashes were now faint scars, barely tender to the touch.That wasn’t normal.She knew that.Beth and Hannah knew that.Celeste exhaled. “Shit.”Beth released her, sitting back on her heels. “Okay. Let’s… let’s think about this logically. We did the ritual just few hours ago. And now you’re—” She gestured vaguely at Celeste’s face.Hannah frowned. “You’re healing fast.”Celeste rubbed her temples. “Yeah. It seems so.”Beth narrowed her eyes. “Is this gonna keep happening? Will this happen to us too?”Celeste let out a dry laugh. “I have no idea.”The air hung heavy between them, the fire crackling in the silence.And then—A sharp clicking noise.All three of them tensed. They all understood more clearly what the three clicks meant. Someone was saying ‘Hello’ to them.Beth grabbed Celeste’s arm. “Tell me that’s you.”Celeste’s heart pounded.She knew that tone.Slowly, she turned toward the entrance of the cave—just in time to see a gaunt, lanky figure emerge from the darkness.Hannah swore. Beth went rigid.Celeste exhaled.“…That’s Charles.”The wendigo, the same one that had been leaving her offerings, let out a soft croon. It shifted slightly, eyes gleaming as it tilted its head, observing them.Beth and Hannah didn’t move.Didn’t breathe.Hannah’s voice was tight. “That’s a Wendigo.”Celeste nodded. “Yep.”Beth gripped her arm. “And you named it?”Celeste sighed. “Look, he’s been helping us. Kind of. He’s not like the others.”Charles clicked again, and this time, he dropped something.A bird.A freshly killed, fat bird.Beth and Hannah stared.Celeste ran a hand down her face. “Okay, now you’re bringing all of us food? That’s new.”Charles crooned, tilting his head as if pleased. Celeste swallowed and huffed back. Charles crooned some more, moving the bird closer and himself too. The behaviour reminded her of cats who brought their owners mice. He wanted compliments on good job done. Celeste moved closer, nothing about Charles’ screamed aggression so she was safe. She started petting his head and got a low purring sound as answer.Hannah swallowed. “Holy shit.”Beth pinched the bridge of her nose. “Cece, you’re healing like a freak, and now there’s a goddamn wendigo bringing us gifts?”Celeste huffed. “Yeah. I guess we’re making friends.”Beth looked like she was about to have a stroke.Hannah let out a nervous laugh. “Well… at least we don’t have to catch dinner tonight?”Charles clicked, as if amused.Beth exhaled, rubbing her temples. “Jesus Christ.”And for the first time…Beth and Hannah realised just how insane their world had become.     Celeste’s head pounded.The inside of her skull felt like it had been hollowed out and filled with something raw and unnatural—like rot settling into the marrow of her bones. Her hands trembled where they clutched at the tattered edges of her sleeves. The fire had long since burned down to embers, casting flickering shadows across the cave walls.Beth and Hannah slept fitfully nearby, curled against each other for warmth. But even in sleep, Celeste could see the tension in their bodies.They were hungry.And so was she.
Give in.
Makkapitew’s voice slithered through her mind like oil, thick and suffocating.Celeste gritted her teeth.Pitiful. His growl rumbled through her chest, more felt than heard. You are weak, little shaman. You will never be strong enough to rule this mountain.She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes.The hunger was relentless. It clawed at her insides, gnawed at her ribs, filled her lungs with a desperate, aching need. She had felt hunger before—real, painful hunger, back when food had been scarce in her childhood. But this?This was different.This wasn’t just hunger. This was craving.
Makkapitew’s hunger.
A twisted sort of addiction to flesh, to blood, to the hunt.Her fingers dug into the dirt beneath her as she sucked in slow, steady breaths. She would not give in.Makkapitew hummed. Then how will you feed them, little shaman?Her eyes flickered to Beth and Hannah.They were starving. Even though she had given them everything she could, the hunger wasn’t fading. Their bodies were changing—she could feel it—but without human flesh, it wouldn’t be enough.Celeste swallowed hard.She knew what needed to be done.But where the hell was she going to find a human?Makkapitew let out a low, pleased chuckle. I know where.Celeste stiffened.He was baiting her. She knew that. But that didn’t make it any less tempting.
Let me in, little shaman. Let me lead you.
She scoffed, shoving her nails into her palms. “Like hell.”His laughter curled through her mind like smoke. Then you will starve. And so will they.Her stomach twisted.She forced herself to look away from Beth and Hannah’s frail, sleeping forms. She could do this herself. She had to.But Makkapitew wasn’t done with her yet.For the next few days, he hounded her.Whenever she closed her eyes, he filled her mind with visions—twisted, broken things.She saw Mike, alone in the lodge, pacing anxiously, eyes darting to the door. But when he turned to look at her, his face was wrong—half-eaten, his mouth split into a jagged, too-wide grin.She saw her mother, weeping, but when she opened her mouth to sob, it wasn’t words that came out—it was screams, endless, echoing.She saw herself, but not as she was—no, this Celeste had given in. This Celeste had hollow eyes, sharp teeth, and blood dripping down her chin.And worst of all—She saw easy prey.Travelers, wandering through the mountain paths. People lost in the woods. Stragglers looking for shelter.They were so close.Makkapitew’s whisper curled against her ear. You could end this suffering with just one kill.Celeste bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood.She wouldn’t let him win.Wouldn’t let him break her.She shoved the images away, forced them out of her mind, but they always crept back, seeping into her thoughts like poison.Until finally—She snapped.In the mindscape, Makkapitew loomed over her, his skeletal face unreadable as he prepared another round of torment.But before he could speak—Celeste snarled at him.It wasn’t a scream. It wasn’t a yell. It was such a feral sound. A deep, guttural sound that tore from her throat, rattling like a growl. Her body tensed, her teeth bared in a way that felt wrong but also right.And for the first time—Makkapitew hesitated.The wendigo’s glowing eyes flared, his head tilting ever so slightly, as if he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at.Celeste breathed heavily, her body coiled like a spring, her nails digging into her palms.Makkapitew huffed. …Interesting.She wiped the blood from her lip and met his gaze. “I’m not your prey.”Makkapitew’s antlers shifted as he straightened, his gaze dark and unreadable.Then, ever so slowly—He grinned.

The first breath of fresh air in months should have been overwhelming.Celeste expected it to hit her like a slap—sharp, bracing, too much.But instead…It felt like nothing.The cold no longer bit into her skin. The wind, once a cutting force, was just a whisper. The darkness should have been suffocating, but—She saw everything.Not like before.The shadows weren’t shadows anymore; they were moving shapes, pulsing, shifting. The world around her wasn’t black and empty—it was alive.And she wasn’t alone.Charles was with her.He moved in silence, hovering just behind her, his lanky form barely making a sound. His eyes gleamed in the moonlight, watching everything.They traveled like predators.Silent. Calculated.Every step forward felt natural. The way her body knew where to step before she even thought about it. The way her ears caught every sound—the rustle of small animals, the distant creak of shifting ice.Everything was sharp.Everything was clear.She barely realized where she was going until the looming shape of the Washington Lodge came into view.Celeste stopped.Her breath hitched.The Lodge stood like a fortress. Cold, imposing. But that wasn’t what made her stomach churn.It was the protection.She felt it the moment she stepped close.A pressure in the air—thick, unseen. A barrier woven from old spirits, old rituals.And she had been the one to ask for it.She had stood right there, months ago, and called for the spirits to ward this place.Now, it made her nauseous.Celeste pressed a hand to her head.Charles shifted behind her, letting out a low, displeased noise. He didn’t like this place either.She turned away from the lodge, swallowing the unease. Not worth it.Instead, she made her way toward the shed.The small building was untouched. A little weathered, but still intact.She pushed inside.Dust. Old wood. Metal.Her fingers worked fast, grabbing whatever she could. A leather satchel tucked in the corner. An old backpack.She filled them.Rope. Matches. Towels. An old canteen. A saw, more toolsets, she would need some if she wants to build them a decent nest. ‘Nest? Where did that come from?’ She shook her head and continued on her search. Some half-frozen energy bars tucked into a forgotten drawer. Anything useful.By the time she stepped back outside, her bags were full.And that was when she smelled it.The shift was instant.Her instincts flared—new scents in the air.Wolf.Not the ones from before, not old ones. This was different. Fresher.And—Man.A scent she didn’t recognize.Charles stiffened.His fingers twitched, clicking anxiously, his entire posture shifting to something tense.Someone was near.Celeste lowered herself slightly, her muscles tightening as she listened.And in the quiet, just barely—A crunch in the snow.Someone was waiting for them.Celeste’s grip tightened around the satchel’s strap.The air outside was too still.The wolves had gone silent.That wasn’t a good sign.She could hear them shifting, low growls and sharp whines vibrating through the night. Their hesitation wasn’t from fear. It was anticipation.They were waiting.And the footsteps.Slow. Deliberate. Coming closer.Not wolf. Human.Charles let out the faintest click.Celeste’s pulse thrummed in her ears. She wasn’t the one in danger.Charles was.They would see him for what he was. They would hunt him down.No.Her body moved before her thoughts could catch up.Silent. Calculated.She backed away from the front door, keeping her breath even. Charles followed.They slipped deeper into the shed.One room into another.The walls groaned faintly in the cold. The smell of old wood, rusted tools, and dust filled her nose.Charles’ breathing was low, steady. But his claws twitched. His body was ready to bolt.Celeste clicked her tongue. A soft command. Follow me.Charles listened.She scanned the room—an exit. She needed an exit.Her eyes landed on a set of loose wooden boards along the back wall.Perfect.Carefully, she moved forward, fingers curling under the edge of the warped planks. They shifted easily. Old. Weakened by time.She peeled them back just enough to make a hole.Cold air rushed in.A way out.Celeste didn’t hesitate.She slipped through first, Charles right behind her.They crouched low, bodies pressed against the side of the shed.The wind picked up, carrying the scent of wolves, leather, sweat.The footsteps were almost at the door.Celeste inhaled, muscles tensing—And then they moved.Silent. Swift.Their feet barely disturbed the snow as they climbed the mountain, leaving the shed behind.Too close.
Too close.
     The mountain at night was alive with sound—branches creaking, wind howling, distant cries of unseen creatures. Celeste moved through the trees with a quiet, almost unnatural grace. She wasn't sure if it was her own skill or something else guiding her movements, but she no longer stumbled as she used to. The night felt clearer, sharper, as if her senses had adjusted to this new existence.But she was not alone.She felt them before she saw them—passing pack of wolves.A low growl rippled through the trees, followed by another. Yellow eyes gleamed in the darkness, circling her, their bodies moving in perfect coordination. Celeste tensed, instincts flaring. They knew. They could sense the Dark Spirit in her, smell the corruption in her blood.She didn’t run. Running would mark her as prey.A snarl split the night, and the first wolf lunged. Celeste barely twisted out of the way, her pulse spiking. A second moved in, snapping at her side, forcing her back toward the trees. They were testing her, forcing her into submission.Makkapitew stirred inside her, watching.
Little shaman. They know what you are.
‘They think I’m you.’ She countered, stepping carefully.
They are not wrong.
Celeste bit down on the sharp laugh that threatened to escape her lips. She wasn't like him.Another growl rumbled from the pack, deeper this time. The largest of the wolves, a scarred beast with fur dark as the night itself, stepped forward. It bared its fangs, hackles rising. The others followed suit. The air grew thick with tension. They would attack soon.But then—A shadow moved.Not hers.The wolves hesitated, ears flicking, their aggression faltering for just a moment. Celeste felt the shift before she heard the low, guttural growl that rolled through the night.Makkapitew.Not in body, but his presence pressed outward, curling through her like smoke, forcing itself into the world beyond her mind.The wolves backed up, uneasy. The alpha wolf snarled but did not move forward.Makkapitew's voice slithered through her mind. You see? They know their place.Celeste’s fingers twitched. The power, the control—it was intoxicating. But this wasn't hers. It was his.She shook her head. ‘Let me handle this.’Makkapitew chuckled darkly but withdrew. Barely.The wolf studied her, its nose twitching as it caught the mingling scents—the human, the spirit, the corruption. Its golden eyes flickered with something almost like recognition. A warning passed between them.Celeste inhaled.Then, as if deciding she was not worth the fight, the wolves turned, one by one, vanishing into the shadows.She let out a slow breath.But her relief was short-lived.You are beginning to understand, aren’t you? Makkapitew purred, his presence curling around her like a predator savouring its kill. The power of fear. The weight of dominance.Celeste clenched her jaw. ‘I didn’t need you to interfere.’
Oh? And yet, you would have been torn apart.
She hated that he was right.Then, his tone shifted, a sinister amusement creeping in. But look at you. So bold. So... deserving.Celeste stiffened.
‘Deserving of what?’
A dark chuckle. To belong to me.Heat crawled up her spine, something primal curling in her chest at the way he said it. Possessive. Like he had already claimed her.She swallowed hard, forcing her voice to stay steady. ‘I don’t belong to you.’Makkapitew hummed, neither agreeing nor denying, simply watching—waiting.But Celeste had bigger concerns.She needed to hunt.For Beth. For Hannah.For all of them.And she needed to do it before the hunger consumed them whole.

Beth wiped her forehead dramatically. “Alright, team. We are gathered here today to make the best goddamn nest in these godforsaken mines.”Celeste placed a hand over her heart. “For warmth.”Hannah nodded solemnly. “For comfort.”Charles clicked.Beth gestured vaguely. “And… for whatever the hell he’s doing.”Charles was helping.Kind of.By helping, he had mostly been dragging whatever scraps of fabric or furs he could find into the nest pile. The problem was, he had zero concept of what was actually useful.Beth stared at the rotting deer pelt he proudly dropped at her feet.“…Yeah, that’s gonna be a no from me, dawg.”Celeste patted Charles’ arm. “A for effort, buddy.”Charles clicked, seemingly pleased with himself.   Celeste and Beth had made a trip to the river earlier to wash the old sheets they’d found, because contrary to popular belief, they were not animals.Beth stretched out a semi-dry blanket, squinting at it. “Man, I can’t believe we have to wash our own clothes. Like, what is this, the 1800s?”Hannah shrugged, folding a pillowcase. “I mean, we could ask Charles to do our laundry, he’s probably from that era.”They all turned to look at Charles.He was standing in the corner, completely still, staring at the wall. Just staring, no thoughts.Beth frowned. “Yeah. No. I don’t trust that dude with a washcloth.”   Celeste, standing on a rock, arms outstretched: “This is my swamp now.”Beth, dragging a mattress into place: “Can I please just have one normal day?”Hannah, dramatically collapsing into a pile of blankets: “No thoughts. Head empty. Just nest.”Charles clicked approvingly.   Beth lifted a weird, crusty fur pelt between two fingers. “…So, just checking, how many diseases do you think this has?”Celeste tilted her head. “At least six.”Charles made a low, guttural noise of deep offense.Hannah patted his arm. “No, no, we appreciate the effort! It’s just…” She side-eyed the pelt. “Maybe let’s not add the bubonic plague to our suffering.”   Celeste flopped onto the nest pile, stretching out like a cat. “Ladies… and Charles. We have done it. We have created peak comfort. We have achieved greatness.”Beth wiped an imaginary tear. “I never thought I’d see the day.”Hannah nodded sagely. “Truly, a historic moment.”Charles plopped down next to them with a heavy thud.The nest immediately collapsed.Beth screamed.   
Celeste leaned back, arms behind her head. “I had a menstrual cup in when we fell.”Beth’s expression was pure betrayal.Hannah gasped. “You mean to tell me we’ve been suffering, and you’ve been having such luxury?"Celeste grinned. “Sucks to suck.”Beth threw a pillow at her.   Beth rubbed her arms, glancing between them. “Okay, but, like… real talk. We should probably discuss the weird shit.”Hannah, who had been poking at Celeste’s raccoon-looking dark veins, nodded. “Yeah. Like, for starters, why does she look like she hasn’t slept in fifty years?”Celeste sighed dramatically. “It’s called fashion, Beth.”Beth deadpanned. “It’s called you look like a Tim Burton character.”“Thanks, I hate it.”Hannah snickered, then looked down at her own hands. “But, like, seriously. We’re… different now. I mean, I still feel human, but…” She flexed her fingers. “I don’t think I’m just human anymore.”Celeste nodded, serious for a moment. “We’re not.”Beth shifted uncomfortably. “We don’t have, like… the freaky armor skin, though.”Celeste shook her head. “Not yet.”“Not yet??” Beth repeated, horrified.Celeste smirked.Beth groaned. “Oh, we’re so fucked.”Hannah just wheezed.   Celeste flopped onto the pile again, staring at the cave ceiling. “So, anyway. What’s the first thing you guys are doing when we get the hell out of these mines?”Beth sighed dramatically. “I want an entire large pizza. To myself.”Hannah groaned. “God, I miss junk food. Or any type of food other than rats and birds.”Celeste grinned. “I’m getting a shower.”Beth snorted. “Yeah, no offense, but you need it.”Celeste gasped, clutching her chest. “Wow. The audacity. I do bathe ya’know.”Charles clicked.Beth side-eyed him. “I know you’re not judging, buddy. You live in a cave.”Charles huffed."Technically, so do w—“ Celeste voices out, though she’s silenced by a soaring pillow.  
And thus, the best nest ever was complete.At least, until Charles sat on it again.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

”To the boys that kiss her,

you better fucking treat her well
”
  The wind carried voices.Celeste crouched low behind the ridge, eyes trained on the figures moving below. The search party wove through the thinning snow, their boots crunching over frozen earth, their bright jackets cutting stark against the muted landscape. She could hear them—every shift of fabric, every exhausted sigh, every quiet murmur of "still nothing."It had been two and half months. Two and a half months since she, Beth, and Hannah had fallen. Two months since the mountain had swallowed them whole.And now?Now, she understood. They were never leaving.She had known it in the quiet moments, in the way the spirits lingered, in the way her body no longer felt the cold, in the way she moved without sound and saw through the dark like it was daylight. She had known it when she bound them, when she chose this, when she let the power of this place settle in her bones. But hearing them—hearing their families still searching, still hoping—made it real.Celeste clenched her fists.Her mother was down there somewhere. Maybe Mike. Maybe some of the others. She could recognize the voices if she focused, if she let herself, but she didn’t.She didn’t want to.Because what would she do? Run down there? Tell them to stop looking? Tell them she was alive—but not really? That they’d never find their bodies because their bodies weren’t dead, but they weren’t really theirs anymore?She swallowed hard.A sharp gust of wind swept through the mountainside, and for a brief moment, she let herself mourn what could’ve been.She could’ve gone to college. Could’ve had a future beyond this frozen place. Could’ve been normal.Now she would die here. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow, but she belonged to the mountain.And the mountain never let go.A heavy presence stirred behind her.Celeste turned, breath catching.The bull elk.It stood on the ridge, towering and ancient, its great antlers laced with frost, its deep eyes reflecting something beyond understanding. It did not move like a normal animal—it simply was. A being as much a part of this mountain as the wind, the trees, the spirits themselves.Her heart pounded. It was watching her.No—not just watching. Waiting.Celeste swallowed, her throat tight. Slowly, she shifted to her knees, bowing her head ever so slightly—not in submission, but in respect.In all honesty, she was scared. So, so scared.The elk stepped forward.Warm breath ghosted over her forehead as it leaned down, pressing its broad muzzle against her. The touch was firm, grounding, like an acknowledgment. You are seen. You are known.Her vision blurred.Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, rolling over skin that hadn’t felt the sting of winter in weeks. The elk did not pull away. Its fur felt so warm, so safe, that it made her muscles relax.The guardian breathed with her. Did it have to or was it doing it just to make her feel better?Celeste closed her eyes, deep down she knew. She understood now. She was a willing sacrifice.And in return, she was given permission.To survive. To hunt. To take from the land not as a thief, but as one who belongs.So long as she eased their passing.A sob hitched in her throat.The elk exhaled, warm and steady.She was still favoured. Even after everything. Even after becoming something else.Celeste wrapped her arms around its thick neck, burying her face in its fur, grief and acceptance warring inside her as the search party’s voices faded into the distance.Everything would be fine.

Celeste wandered back toward the mines, the weight of the encounter with the elk still pressing against her ribs. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed—minutes? Hours? The sun had shifted, lowering toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the mountain.She could still hear the search party in the distance, but they were moving away now, their voices growing fainter. The human part of her—the part that still ached for her old life—wanted to run after them.But the mountain held her fast and that was alright.She felt him before she heard him.A creeping presence, curling around the edges of her thoughts like fingers trailing down her spine.
You weep for a life you lost long before the fall.
Makkapitew’s voice was a whisper inside her skull, cold and knowing, a claw dragging across the raw places she didn’t dare touch.Celeste’s steps slowed.She had learned to recognize when he was lurking, learned the way his presence twisted the air around her, how his voice slithered through her thoughts like an echo of something older than words. He had been waiting. Watching. And now he spoke.She swallowed, gaze still fixed on the fading sunlight. “Do you ever shut up?”A dark chuckle. And here I thought you were starting to enjoy our conversations.She huffed, rolling her eyes. “Must’ve hit your head when you were created, buddy.”Must’ve. His voice hummed, thoughtful. Then, quieter, The elk was watching you.Celeste’s breath hitched.She turned sharply, scanning the trees, expecting—what? To see him standing there? But obviously Makkapitew was nowhere to be seen, it was like it was all in her head. Technically it was.And he was so close, feathery light touch on her soul.“…And?” she asked, voice more even than she felt.A pause. Then, he laughed.Slow, guttural, the sound like a wolf circling its prey.
You are still a thing of reverence, little one. The spirits have not forsaken you.
His amusement curled through her veins like smoke. Dark. Possessive. Intrigued.
They should have.
Her pulse skipped.Celeste clenched her fists, jaw tightening. “I don’t need your fucking opinions on my soul, thanks.”No? His voice dipped, slow and indulgent, like he was savoring the conversation. Then why does it shake you to hear it?She hated that he did this—peeled her apart so effortlessly, slid under her skin like a shadow that refused to leave.Celeste exhaled, forcing her heartbeat to slow.His presence curled around her now, closer than before.Not physical. Not yet.But there.Watching. Wanting.She should have been afraid. She wasn’t.Instead, she tilted her chin up, a slow smirk creeping onto her lips. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”A sharp, breathy snarl filled her head, low and guttural. Of a beast that kneels at your feet?Celeste feigned a thoughtful hum. “I dunno. You seemed pretty fixated on it. Maybe you should try it yourself? Might like being on your knees.”Silence.Then, movement.The air shifted behind her, ice crackling against rock, something too large and too fast circling just out of sight.The sensation sent a shiver down her spine, but even those shivers felt like knives in her spine.She should have walked away.But she didn’t.Instead, she took a slow step forward, tilting her head, testing something—taunting something.Makkapitew moved with her.Not quite touching.But so, so close.The wind carried his presence, the scent of blood and earth, the faintest echo of hunger curling through the connection between them.
You test your limits, little one.
Celeste’s smirk widened. “Maybe.”The temperature around her moved, frost creeping along the edges of nearby rocks. His next words ghosted against her skin, so close she almost swore she could feel breath.
Then test them wisely.
The words weren’t a threat. They were a promise.A dangerous, intoxicating, addictive promise.And Celeste?She was starting to think she liked it.

The nest was warm. Too warm. Impossible as it was to think so.Sleep tugged at the edges of Celeste’s mind, thick and heavy, but something stirred beneath it. A presence. A call.And then—Darkness. Cold. She was standing in the void of her mind again, a space that was both infinite and suffocating all at once.And he was there.Makkapitew loomed in the shadows, a specter of hunger and rage, his form shifting between monstrous and skeletal. Pale, sinewy limbs curled like tree roots in the dark, blackened talons twitching. His eyes—those burning, hollow voids—fixed on her the moment she arrived. ‘He had been waiting, because I kept ignoring him.’A slow smirk curled on Celeste’s lips. “Miss me?”The shadows around him flickered, his presence slithering closer like a phantom of frost and death.
“Always.”
His voice was a low rasp, curling under her skin like a whispered threat. Or a promise.Celeste held her ground. She had spent three months walking the knife’s edge with him, and she had learned something important—he hated being ignored, yes, but more than that, he hated losing.She was about to give him both.Makkapitew circled her like a predator, silent despite his monstrous size, his form flickering between the wendigo she had seen and something else—something more ancient, more wrong.
"You test my patience, it is not as infinite as my existence."
Celeste tilted her head. “Oh, I know I do. You’ve said that before, repeatedly. In so many different ways."A growl, low and guttural. “Then why play this game?”She hummed, feigning thought. “You tried to kill me once. Right here where we are standing. That wasn’t very nice.”A dark chuckle. “You want revenge? Petty little thing.”Her smirk deepened. "Yes, yes I am."Before he could react, she raised a hand—and the void around them shifted.Iron snapped around his wrists, dragging him back. Chains—blackened, old, rusted with something dark—twisted up from the abyss, wrapping tight around his limbs, anchoring him down.For the first time in their months together, Makkapitew stilled.Then—
SNARL.
The sound cracked through the void like a storm breaking.His body lunged, but the chains yanked him back, forcing him to his knees before her. His shriek of fury sent a shockwave through the space between them.Celeste just grinned.She could feel it, he hated this. Hated that she had turned his own domain against him. Hated that she had found a way to win.She took a slow step forward, watching the way his jaw clenched, how the void seemed to shrink around him, like the darkness itself knew that something had changed.“You’re always talking about hunger,” she mused, tapping her chin. “How you take and take, how nothing can satisfy you.”His burning gaze bored into her, but she only leaned in closer, her smirk widening.“How does it feel to have nothing instead?”His voice was raw, gritted through sharp teeth. “Release me.”She laughed. “Nah. I don’t think I will.”And then, with an air of absolute, infuriating smugness, she snapped her fingers——And music blasted through the void.
"You're insecure—don't know what for—"
The silence that followed was deafening.Makkapitew’s entire body went rigid, his claws flexing. His expression twisted into something truly murderous.Celeste beamed. “Hope you like boy bands.”His chains rattled violently as he lunged again, the entire space trembling under the weight of his fury.
"Baby, you light up my world like nobody else—"
A roar ripped through the darkness.Celeste backed away, winking. “Please enjoy. I will see you later, ta-ta.”Then she slammed the door shut on him, severing the connection.The warmth of the nest returned in an instant.Celeste cracked an eye open, stretching lazily as the distant echo of another furious snarl rang in the back of her mind.Beth shifted beside her. “What?”Celeste just smiled to herself.“Oh, nothing. Just a very good dream.”

Four days.Five, coming in.That was how long Makkapitew had been locked away, buried deep in the prison she had built for him, forced to endure an endless loop of One Direction with nothing but his own fury for company.By day three, he had stopped trying to claw his way back.By day four, the space inside her head had gone eerily silent.And now? Celeste was curious.So, with a slow exhale, she let herself drift.Darkness welcomed her. But it was different this time.The void was quiet—no growling, no rattling chains, no whispers creeping along the edges of her mind. The usual pressure of his presence, that ever-lingering, predatory weight, had dulled to something distant. Muted.She took a step forward, bare feet meeting nothing, and the space around her shifted.The chains were still there. Twisted, dark, unyielding.And at the center of it all—Makkapitew.He was seated, slouched forward, limbs bound, his monstrous form caught in the limbo between spirit and nightmare. His head was bowed, long claws slack against the floor, his entire body coiled in eerie stillness.If it weren’t for the slow, shuddering rise and fall of his chest, she might have thought he was asleep.Or dead.Not that something like him could die.A flicker of hesitation ghosted through her. Had she overdone it?She pushed the thought aside and crossed her arms, tilting her head.“Hey, sunshine.”Nothing.She clicked her tongue. “You look rough.”Still, nothing.Not even a twitch.Celeste frowned, stepping closer, watching for something—a snarl, a crack of those glowing eyes, anything.But he remained silent.A twinge of unease crept in.“…You dead in there?” she muttered.A slow inhale.Then—
"No."
His voice was hoarse, gritted out like rust scraping against metal.Celeste huffed, resting a hand on her hip. “Well, somebody’s moody.”Makkapitew’s head lifted just enough for her to see the gleam of his eyes beneath the matted mess of his tangled, bony frame.
"You left me in the void."
There was something low and unsteady in the way he said it, something she wasn’t sure she had ever heard from him before.Not rage. Not hunger.Something else.Something closer to remorse.Celeste’s smirk faltered for half a second before she caught herself. “Yeah, well. You tried to crush me in here, so.”Silence.Then, quietly—
"We are even."
The admission surprised her.For a moment, she just looked at him, at the way his shoulders remained hunched, his claws flexing against the floor as if testing the weight of his imprisonment.Celeste inhaled, long and slow.“…Yeah.”She lifted a hand.The chains rattled—then unraveled, slithering away like shadows, dissolving into the void.Makkapitew exhaled, shifting his limbs, rolling his shoulders. His head tilted toward her, eyes gleaming with something unreadable.
"I will remember this."
Celeste smirked. “Good. Maybe next time you’ll think before trying to crush a girl’s windpipe without a safe word.”He huffed, a low, quiet sound—not quite amused, not quite irritated.Then, with a shift of the void, he was gone. Celeste’s eyes snapped open, breath steady.Beside her, Beth stirred. “End of the vacation, huh?”Celeste flexed her fingers, rolling her shoulders. “Yeah. He’s free now.”Beth yawned, stretching. “Think he’s pissed?”Celeste exhaled, a slow grin creeping onto her lips.“Oh, definitely.”

Celeste had learned to recognise when he was out of his little bubble inside of her.It wasn’t just the cold, or the winter breeze he summoned.It was the way the shadows lengthened, the way the air grew too still, like the whole mountain was holding its breath. It was the way her own body responded—skin prickling, pulse slowing, something deep inside her twisting in recognition.
A sickness. A familiarity.

An addiction.
She leaned against the cavern wall, tilting her head back, closing her eyes. She could feel him. Lingering at the edge of her thoughts, waiting for her to acknowledge him.“Are you just going to sit there like a creep, or…?”The darkness laughed.
And here I thought you missed me.
Celeste exhaled through her nose. “Miss is a strong word.”Hm. A pause. I think you do.Her jaw tightened. “That so?”
You crave me.
The words slithered into her skull, a breath against her mind, sinking into something deeper than she wanted to admit.A ghost of sensation brushed her spine—not real, not physical, but enough. Enough to make her feel it.Her breath hitched before she could stop it.Makkapitew laughed again. Slow. Indulgent.You pretend to resist. A curl of amusement. Yet you never send me away.Celeste’s eyes flickered open, sharp and narrowed. She was now in their shared mind again.She turned her head just slightly, meeting him in the silence.A game. A dance. A cycle neither of them could—or wanted to—break. Always going, everlasting.“…Maybe I like the attention.”Makkapitew made a low, thoughtful sound. Pleased. No human has ever resisted me for this long. His voice dipped, deep and knowing. Yet here you are.Celeste huffed, of course all the flirting and sexual innuendos were wasted on this thing, “Maybe you’re getting soft.”Suddenly the cold frost slammed to her face. Frost raced across the stone, cracking through the cavern floor like veins of ice splitting beneath her feet.And then—pain.A sharp, burning sensation ignited in her ribs—like claws pressing just beneath her skin, ghosting over where his mark had begun to take root inside her.Celeste’s breath stuttered. She clenched her teeth, her knees buckling slightly.But she didn’t fall.Didn’t break.Makkapitew growled, low and warning.Poor little star. His voice was almost mocking. Did that hurt?Celeste swallowed, chest rising and falling with steadying breaths. Her heart was bumping and she could feel herself clench on nothing, pleasure easing around her body.Then—she laughed.The sound was breathy, laced with something twisted, something she didn’t want to name.“…That all you got?”Silence.A charged, electric silence, humming between them like a live wire.She could feel it then, a ghost of a grip on her throat, a whisper of hunger that wasn’t quite real, but wasn’t entirely imagined either. Her ears starting to ring as she stopped getting blood to her head.Makkapitew was testing her. Pushing her. But never really hurting her, it made her exited in a completely different way.And she—She liked it. Very much so.Celeste’s smirk widened, a gleam of defiance in her eyes as she tilted her chin up, inviting him to go further.Daring him.She felt his amusement in the way the cold curled around her, in the slow, savoring drag of his presence over her body like a predator circling its kill.You are a strange little thing. His voice was softer now, thoughtful. Most beg for mercy by now.Celeste hummed. “Most aren’t me.”Hm. Another slow, lingering pause. Then, No. They are not.Something about the way he said it made her chest tighten.Like he was acknowledging her.Like she was his.The thought sent a shiver down her spine, her underwear started to get more wet by the second.Makkapitew must have noticed, because he laughed again.A slow, deep rumble of satisfaction.I wonder. His voice curled through her mind like smoke. How long until you stop pretending you do not enjoy this?Celeste’s fingers twitched in her lap. It seemed he didn’t know everything that happened in her body.However she didn’t answer.Because she wasn’t sure if she could.