Inside the cabin, the warmth, thick and fragrant with the scent of aged pine and woodsmoke.
The last zippers were closed with a satisfying slide, bags pushed under the low frames of the beds, and heavy jackets tossed over the backs of sturdy wooden chairs.
One by one, they drifted back toward the sala, drawn by the familiar comfort of being together.
The lights overhead, encased in rustic iron fixtures, cast a soft, amber glow that chased the shadows back into the corners of the room.
Louise settled onto the couch, the cushions groaning under his weight.
He let out a long breath, feeling the stiffness in his shoulders finally begin to melt as the others gathered around him.
"So," Dion said, clapping his hands once with a sharp, echoing crack. "Final count. Nobody got lost, nobody fought. Successful room arrangement."
Jacob grinned, leaning his head back against the wall. "Barely. I almost had to wrestle Lisa for that balcony view."
Celine laughed and pointed toward the ceiling. "Lisa and I took the left room on the second floor, the one with the bigger windows. It's actually pretty cozy."
"And the terrace access," Lisa added proudly, crossing her arms with a smirk. "Best spot for morning coffee. We win."
"Jacob and I are in the other upstairs room," Dion countered, unfazed. "Right side. Also terrace access, so don't think you're special. We'll be looking right at you across the railing."
Louise nodded, his eyes moving from his friends to the layout of the house. "I took the middle room downstairs, near the kitchen. It seemed the quietest."
"Of course you did," Jacob said, his voice dripping with mock-seriousness. "Mr. Responsible. Keeping an eye on the exits."
Louise smiled, the first genuine expression of ease he'd felt since the sun went down.
"Someone has to hear you when you sneak food at 2 a.m. I'm the barrier between you and the snacks."
That left the last room.
Celine gestured toward the far end of the hallway downstairs, where the shadows seemed a little deeper than elsewhere.
"Storage stuff went into the third downstairs room, but it's empty for now. Just a backup room."
Everyone seemed satisfied. The cabin felt organized now—claimed, lived in.
The tension of the drive and the unease of the arrival faded completely, replaced by the easy comfort of routine and familiarity.
The walls, which had looked so imposing from the outside, now felt like a shield.
Louise leaned back into the sofa, letting the hum of voices wash over him.
The sala felt enclosed and warm, a bright island of life tucked far away from the oppressive, silent darkness that waited just beyond the windowpanes.
Time slipped by faster than Louise realized.
By the time they checked the clock, the digital numbers glowed late, the night already thick and heavy outside the windows.
The forest had completely swallowed the last traces of dusk, leaving only an absolute, ink-black darkness pressed firmly against the glass panes.
"Still wanna do the campfire?" Lisa asked, her voice breaking the comfortable lull as she reached for her jacket.
Jacob stood up immediately, stretching his arms until his joints popped. "That's literally the main event. We didn't come all the way out here to sleep early. My marshmallows aren't going to roast themselves."
Dion grabbed a heavy-duty flashlight and the bundle of firewood they'd brought.
"Alright then. Program starts now. Everyone outside."
They stepped out of the cabin together, the transition from the warm, stagnant air of the sala to the biting outdoor chill greeting them like a quiet warning.
Louise followed close behind, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
The ground crunched softly—almost too loudly—beneath their feet as they moved toward the stone-lined fire pit situated a short distance from the cabin.
The campfire came to life with a sharp crackle.
Dion's lighter caught the kindling, and soon the flames were licking upward, orange and hungry, casting restless, dancing shadows across their faces.
The forest beyond remained a void, the trees forming a jagged, vertical wall just outside the flickering circle of light.
Celine clapped her hands, her eyes reflecting the gold of the fire. "Okay! Official program—food first, stories later."
Lisa laughed, leaning in toward the warmth. "And no horror stories yet. I want to eat in peace without jumping at every twig that snaps."
Louise took a seat on one of the weathered logs, the radiant heat of the fire brushing against his skin and chasing away the mountain chill.
The familiar sounds—the overlapping laughter, the rhythmic pop of burning wood, the low murmur of voices—pulled him fully into the moment.
The fire burned brighter as dinner began.
Foil-wrapped food was passed around, the smell of grilled meat and warm rice mixing with the crisp night air.
Louise ate slowly, savoring the heat from both the fire and the food.
Laughter rose easily now—complaints about burnt edges, teasing over who cooked better, playful arguments that never lasted long.
"This is actually good," Dion said, surprised.
Lisa smirked. "Obviously. I helped."
Jacob groaned. "You mean you stood there and judged."
Celine laughed, leaning closer to the fire. "Best part is eating without worrying about tomorrow."
Louise nodded quietly, feeling full in more ways than one. The forest seemed distant tonight, pushed back by the warmth and noise of the group.
After dinner, they leaned back, stomachs full, the fire crackling lower as embers glowed red.
"Alright," Jacob said suddenly, rubbing his hands together. "Story time."
Lisa raised an eyebrow. "Here we go."
Jacob lowered his voice dramatically. "Long ago, in a forest much like this one—"
"Oh no," Celine interrupted, already smiling. "Not that intro."
Jacob shot her a look but continued. "A group of friends went camping, and one by one—"
Dion yawned loudly. "You're gonna have to try harder."
Jacob sighed. "Okay, okay. Imagine this. You're alone. It's quiet. Then you hear footsteps—"
"Probably just you tripping," Lisa said.
Louise chuckled despite himself.
Jacob threw his hands up. "Why are you all so hard to scare?"
"Because you pause too much," Celine said. "And you smile when you're supposed to be scary."
Jacob slumped back against the log. "This is unfair. The vibe is gone."
The group laughed, the firelight dancing across their faces. Louise relaxed, leaning back, watching the flames twist and crackle.
Louise watched Jacob sulk for a moment, the firelight reflecting in the quiet satisfaction on everyone's faces. He hesitated, then cleared his throat.
"I can try," he said.
Jacob looked up immediately. "You? Since when were you good at scary stories?"
Louise shrugged lightly. "Since now, I guess."
The group shifted, curiosity replacing amusement. Even Lisa leaned forward.
"Alright," Celine said. "Go on."
Louise stared into the fire, letting the silence stretch just a little too long.
"There was a forest," he began calmly, "far from any town. No signal. No nearby roads. People only went there to camp… or disappear."
Jacob snorted, but Louise didn't look at him.
"They said the forest was safe during the day. Birds, sunlight, laughter. But at night…" Louise lifted his gaze slowly, eyes reflecting the flames. "Something woke up."
The fire crackled loudly.
"It watched people from far away at first. Studied how they moved. How they smiled. How they talked to each other." Louise's voice stayed even, almost gentle. "It learned faces before it learned names."
Lisa frowned slightly. "What thing?"
Louise tilted his head. "No one knew. Anyone who saw it closely never came back long enough to explain."
He continued, describing a group of friends—how they laughed around a campfire, how they told stories and felt safe inside the circle of light.
How one of them noticed something wrong but convinced himself it was just stress. Just imagination.
Louise swallowed, his voice dropping.
"The thing didn't attack right away. It waited. It smiled from the trees."
He paused.
"And its smile was too wide."
The fire popped sharply, sending sparks into the air.
Jacob shifted uncomfortably. "Okay… that's kinda creepy."
Louise went on, slower now.
"It didn't enter the light. It stayed just beyond it. Close enough to listen. Close enough to memorize where everyone slept."
Celine hugged her arms. "Louise…"
"At the end of the night," Louise said quietly, "the friends went back inside the cabin, laughing, thinking they were safe."
The forest around them seemed to lean closer.
"The next morning," he concluded, voice barely above a whisper,
"only the cabin was found."
Silence.
Then Louise lifted his eyes and said softly,
"And the smile… was seen in one of the windows."
For a heartbeat, no one spoke.
"What the hell," Lisa muttered, goosebumps rising on her arms.
Jacob laughed nervously. "Dude—no. Nope. That was actually good."
Celine glanced toward the dark trees instinctively. "Why would you say the window part?"
Even Dion looked unsettled, staring into the fire. "Okay. You win."
Louise leaned back, surprised by how fast his heart was beating.
They laughed afterward—forced at first, then louder—but the mood had changed. The fire seemed smaller now, the forest much closer than before.
Louise smiled faintly, telling himself it was just a story.
Still, he avoided looking toward the cabin windows.