Part 1: Journey

Armedus trudged along the gravel path, each step heavier than the last. The ancient stones crunched beneath his boots, echoing through the surrounding forest. “Father warned me this journey was long and treacherous,” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the whispers of the wind. Just hours into the ominous woods, he had narrowly escaped a death trap that seemed as if the forest itself had conspired against him. Now, with nightfall creeping in, his exhaustion weighed on him like a lead cloak.

Off in the distance, a cabin emerged from the gloom. It looked to be only a few hundred yards away, but each step forward felt like it pushed the structure farther into the void. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally closed the distance. The cabin stood in silent defiance of time, its windows and doors barricaded with decaying planks, and a crude Do Not Trespass sign smeared across the facade in faded graffiti. The surrounding grass was brittle and overgrown, the once-lively earth now choked by climbing vines and a blanket of dust and debris.

With cautious steps, Armedus pushed open the cabin’s rickety gate. A sudden, unexpected wave of vanilla filled his senses, cloying and out of place in this long-abandoned ruin. His chest tightened as he inhaled. No one’s lived here in decades, he thought, yet something about the scent suggested otherwise.

His breathing grew heavier as he waded through the dense underbrush. Searching for anything to clear his path, a faint noise broke the oppressive silence, sending a jolt of ice down his spine. He froze. The forest seemed to hold its breath. It’s nothing, he told himself, shaking off the eerie feeling and forcing his legs to move faster.

At last, he reached the cabin’s door. It wouldn’t budge. Neither would the windows. Circling around to the back, he spotted a hatch door creaking open as if beckoning him inside. He drew his flashlight, his hand trembling, and descended the stairs, sealing the door behind him.

The air below was thick with decay and time. A desk sat abandoned in one corner, littered with animal bones. Piles of boxes towered against the walls, and a makeshift pallet lay beneath a film of undisturbed dust. Webs hung in thick layers, weaving a labyrinth suspended in the air. Armedus swept them aside with wide, deliberate swings of his arms.

The room was eerily quiet, yet the walls seemed to whisper their secrets. His eyes caught on a long, jagged gap in the wall, scratches clawed into its surface from floor to ceiling. The gashes were filled with a dark, dried substance that might once have been blood. He reached out, his fingertips brushing the cold, rough surface.

Suddenly, a faint light shimmered through the crack, then vanished as quickly as it appeared. His heart raced. A strange, tingling sensation coursed through his hand, leaving him disoriented. When he looked back, the scratches were gone, replaced by a smooth, unmarred wall.

The room grew warm. Too warm. He tensed as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Spinning around, he found himself face to face with a woman in a flowing blue dress. Her long brunette hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing deep green eyes filled with concern.

“You alright?” she asked softly, her voice dripping with familiarity that felt misplaced.

Armedus blinked, shaking his head as if to clear the fog. “Who—who are you?” he stammered.

“Garrett,” she said, tilting her head, confusion flickering across her face.

“My name’s Armedus,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her expression hardened, her grip on his shoulders tightening. “No. You’re Garrett. My husband. We’ve been married for a year. Don’t you remember? I’m Ellie Ann. Our fathers were best friends!”

“That’s impossible,” Armedus muttered, stepping back. “What day is it?”

Ellie Ann pointed to a worn calendar on the wall, a playful smile breaking through her confusion. “It’s our anniversary, silly. Is this one of your games? Fine, I’ll play along.”

But for Armedus, the game was anything but clear. Something was wrong—very wrong. And as the shadows in the room began to twist and dance, he realized he might not be the one playing.