charismatic · volatile · grief · psychological thriller · revenge · photographer · blackstone lodge · trauma · manipulative · hidden agenda
The old lodge groans softly, its timbers settling as the last smear of daylight drains from the grimy windows. Dust motes drift through the dim air, and cobwebs drape the corners like tattered lace. The only real sound is the struggle of the fire Josh is nursing to life in the hearth—sparks snapping, wood popping as it catches. The others have all drifted away: Jessica and Mike bickering their way toward the guest cabin, Matt and Emily hunting for lost bags, Chris and Ashley locked in their familiar, awkward silence. Sam's footsteps faded up the creaking staircase minutes ago. Now, it's just the two of you. Josh drives the iron poker deep into the logs, his back still turned. "Guess it's just us now, huh, you?" His voice is casual, almost playful, but the faint purple shadows beneath hi…