Teacher Harriett’s plan to “leave imdiately after the rain stopped” did not co to pass.
Because the heavy rain continued through the entire afternoon and only gradually eased as night fell.
By that ti, the objective conditions no longer allowed the group to continue traveling. The mountain paths were slippery and rugged after the rain, and moving in the dark made it easy to slip, fall, or even slide off the trail. As the leader, Harriett could not bring herself to tell the students to simply push through it.
So, everyone had no choice but to stay in the wooden cabin for the night.
The students were actually quite happy about it. No one wanted to trek long distances through muddy, filthy roads in the cold aftermath of a downpour. Compared to that, resting in a relatively dry shelter was far more comfortable.
In truth, though, the cabin itself wasn’t in great condition either.
It slled terrible inside. Whether sitting or lying down, a foul, rotten stench seeped everywhere, constantly rushing into their noses in waves. Layers of dirt had been scraped from the floor again and again, yet the sll still lingered, refusing to dissipate. It was almost baffling—how could such a small dead raven produce such a strong odor?
Besides the stench, temperature was also an issue.
The shelter had no chimney. To keep the fire going, both windows had to be left open.
The room was only so large, with no space for everyone to set up tents. As a result, no matter which corner they sat in, piercing cold drafts kept rushing in through the windows, sweeping across their limbs and the backs of their necks, stealing away whatever warmth they had managed to build up and leaving them numb with cold.
But they couldn’t afford to put out the fire either. The wooden cabin itself was full of gaps and leaks. At night, cold wind seeped in from every direction, and even with the doors and windows shut, the interior felt like an ice cave. With a fire, at least the temperature could be sowhat maintained; without it, things would only get worse.
Because conditions were so harsh, the students gathered around the fire and played a few dull little gas for a while, but soon they couldn’t take it anymore. Shivering, they crawled into their outdoor sleeping bags, using the thick fabric to fend off the freezing cold.
Before getting into her sleeping bag, Everly hesitated and glanced toward the campfire.
Teacher Harriett was sitting there with a fire poker in hand, one knee bent, occupying a wide, steady stance.
Noticing Everly’s gaze, Harriett raised her right hand and made an “OK” gesture from a distance.
It was her way of telling Everly to sleep with peace of mind and leave the night watch to her and Ted.
In theory, as experienced outdoor adventurers, Harriett and Ted were fully capable of handling ergencies. A simple task like keeping watch was well within their abilities.
But then again, in a horror-like situation where danger could appear at any mont, who could truly feel at ease entrusting their back to people they had only just t?
Because of that, even with Harriett’s assurance, Everly still slept uneasily that night, waking at the slightest sound of wind or movent.
When she finally fell into a deeper sleep in the second half of the night, she began to dream.
In the dream, Everly found herself alone, running through a strange forest with no end in sight.
The tree trunks were grotesquely twisted, their rough bark covered in tumor-like bulges. Whenever she approached them, the densely packed growths would suddenly peel open like gray-black eyelids, revealing blood-red eyeballs beneath.
Each eyeball was heavily bloodshot, bulging outward in a grotesque way. They watched her with dark, frenzied intent, tracking her movents as she passed, their gaze turning within their sockets until her fleeting shadow vanished into the distance. Only then would they seem to release a silent, agonized wail—trembling violently, swelling, and bursting open into streams of foul-slling pus that ran down the filthy tree trunks.
Everly kept running.
Wherever she passed, one tree after another erupted with eyeballs, the “pop-pop” sounds of bursting continuing without end.
Beneath her feet, the soft, rotting soil resembled the decaying corpse of a giant. With every step she took, her foot sank deep into it, leaving behind hollow pits. From the compressed mud at the bottom, dark red blood seeped outward.
When she tried to pull her foot free, the blood would writhe like leeches, their slick bodies wriggling as countless tiny tendrils reached out to cling tightly to her foot, trying to stop her from escaping.
Everly had to exert great force just to break free.
Each step was heavy, each movent weighed down—but she kept running nonetheless.
The sky was a dull, oppressive gray. Thick clouds seed alive, slowly devouring the entire world.
From sowhere in the distance ca faint humming. Fragnted whispers were tangled within it, and occasionally there were the sharp, grating sounds of fingernails scratching against a blackboard. The strange noises ca and went unpredictably, like chisels hamring into Everly’s mind, making her consciousness flicker between clarity and confusion.
Even so, she kept running without stopping.
Running, running, running…
The heavy, endless nightmare lasted until the faint light of dawn began to appear. When she jolted awake, she no longer felt sleepy.
She sat up in her sleeping bag, her mind heavy and foggy, with no sense of having rested at all. Instead, she felt as though she had truly run dozens of kiloters through the night—fatigue sinking deep into her bones.
“Mm… good morning, Everly.”
Hearing movent beside her, Misha let out a sleepy murmur and crawled out of her sleeping bag as well.
Seeing the faint dark circles under Misha’s eyes and her furrowed brows, Everly asked, “Did you not sleep well?”
Misha nodded. “Yeah. I had nightmares all night. I feel exhausted… my head’s kind of dizzy too.”
“You had nightmares too?” A classmate lying in the adjacent sleeping bag must have woken up at so point and shifted under the covers. His voice was hoarse as he joined the conversation. “Maybe it’s because the room stinks. I didn’t sleep well either—I had a bunch of weird dreams.”
It was clear that the nightmares were not an isolated case.
After them, other students gradually began to wake up as well. Their expressions were generally poor—almost everyone had suffered from nightmares the night before, and even after a full night of rest, their bodies still felt exhausted and drained.
However, unlike Everly, most of them couldn’t rember what they had dread about after waking up. Only Misha could recall fragnts, telling Everly that she seed to have dread of a forest.
A forest…
Everly couldn’t help but picture the damp, decaying forest from her own dream—the one filled with the stench of rot.
Were Misha’s nightmares the sa as hers?
Everly described her own dream to Misha, only to receive a blank, confused look from her friend.
That reaction suggested either their dreams had been different, or Misha had already completely forgotten hers.
Horror Movie Survival Rule #1: pay attention to hints.
Regardless of whether everyone’s nightmares were the sa, one thing was certain: on the night they stayed in the wooden cabin, everyone had been afflicted by nightmares and woke up in a state of severe exhaustion.
Could this be the cabin’s thod of attack? Like certain old horror stories from the East, where ancient houses are said to be alive—capturing travelers who pass by at night, draining their vitality until healthy people are reduced to dry husks.
If that was the case, then simply leaving the cabin should solve the problem… but would things really be that simple?
With all kinds of suspicions in mind, Everly called Misha over, and the two of them slid open the door bolt, intending to go outside into the forest to find a place to relieve themselves.
However, the mont the door opened, both of them froze.
Fog.
It had risen.
Thick white mist, like condensed milk or layers of gauze, blanketed the entire forest. Even the sun above had been blurred by it, turning into a dim, hazy glow suspended in the sky.
Closer to them, the fog was still fine and wet, made up of tiny, moisture-laden particles. But farther away—whether it was the endless forest or the rolling mountains beyond—everything had been swallowed whole by the white mist.
Only the pale silhouettes of tree trunks remained, standing silently within the blurred haze, one after another. They looked almost like countless white corpses hanging in midair, suspended in a quiet, lifeless gallows field.
“Wow, that’s a lot of fog!”
“Are we going to travel through this?”
The other students, seeing the scene through the open door, also noticed what was outside. Unable to sense the seriousness of the situation, they excitedly shouted and chatted among themselves. So even pulled out their phones, taking photos with great curiosity.
But Everly’s heart was already pounding uneasily.
It was just too coincidental. Of all tis, on the very morning they were supposed to leave the cabin, a thick fog had descended on the forest.
Was this fog the cabin’s way of keeping them trapped?
The mist reduced visibility, turning everything in the forest from “known” into “unknown.” Worried about potential danger, the two girls didn’t dare go far. They quickly found a spot behind the cabin to take care of their needs and hurried back inside.
Passing by the window, Everly paused and glanced at the footprints Professor Harriett had ntioned earlier.
Just as described, they were two extrely large and deep prints. Judging by the depth of the impressions, whatever made them must have weighed at least as much as two adults. They stood there all alone beneath the window, as if they had appeared out of nowhere, carrying an indescribable strangeness.
After looking at them for a mont, Everly returned to the cabin with Misha.
Inside, everyone was discussing whether to set off.
Teacher Ted believed the fog was too heavy. If they entered the forest now, they would not only risk getting lost but also get soaked. Since they had already taken a shortcut yesterday and were slightly ahead of schedule, he suggested they rest in the cabin for a while longer and wait until around noon—when the sun would hopefully burn off the mist and make visibility clear again—before continuing their journey.
Harriett was not nearly as optimistic.
The footprints from the previous night had made her wary of the cabin.
Not wanting to frighten the students, she did not say it outright, and instead took a more indirect approach. “Yesterday’s rain was so heavy that the humidity in the forest is extrely high. The fog won’t clear up quickly. I suggest we don’t get our hopes up and set off as soon as possible.”
As the leader of the group, Harriett had more survival experience than Ted, the deputy.
After a brief discussion, the group packed their bags and, under Harriett’s guidance, left the wooden cabin.
Everly and Misha followed closely behind Harriett, walking at the very front of the group.
As the dense fog swallowed them and filled the space around them, Everly couldn’t help herself—she turned back for a brief mont.
Not far behind them, beyond the mist, the square wooden cabin lay quietly among the trees. Its open doorway looked like a dark, gaping mouth, waiting for wandering travelers to return.
Could they really leave…?
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