The silence inside the watch post was just as oppressive as the forest outside. Every creak of the old wooden structure sounded like a muffled scream. The air was thick, loaded with dust and dry mold, as if no one had breathed there for decades.
Adam watched through a narrow window slit. His eyes scanned every shadow around the lake, every ripple in the water. Nothing. But the nothing was worse. Jason could appear from anywhere. He was silence. He was darkness.
"Do you think he left?" Larissa asked, sitting against the wall, hugging her knees.
Adam shook his head, eyes still on the window.
"He doesn't leave. He waits. Watches. That's what he always did."
She sighed, trembling. But her gaze was different now. Sharper. More alert.
"There's more to this place than it seems," she said, pulling an old metal cabinet away from the wall. With effort, she managed to open it. Inside were soaked files, broken tools, and an old radio.
Adam came closer and examined the equipment.
"It's dead… but maybe we can salvage something."
While he worked on dismantling the radio with a makeshift screwdriver, Larissa found a metal box marked "GENERATOR ROOM". She opened it carefully: inside was a more detailed map, indicating that beneath the post, there was a basement — sealed from the inside — with access to an old generator.
"If we start the generator, maybe we can power some exterior lights," she suggested. "Jason hides in the dark. If we have light, maybe we gain a bit of an advantage."
Adam looked at her with respect.
"Good idea. But if he sees the light, he's coming full force."
"Then let's use that against him," she said, her eyes gleaming with a spark of intelligence. "He follows instinct. Hunts by sound, smell, movement. But if we confuse him… make him think we're in one place, when we're really in another…"
Adam smiled, impressed.
"You think fast. I like that."
They split up. Adam carefully descended to the lower level, guided by a makeshift flashlight — an old cracked phone with barely any battery, wrapped in plastic to dim the light.
He found the hatch to the basement hidden under a loose floorboard. Opening it released a cold gust of air from the darkness below. The smell was heavy, metallic… and something more. Like rotting flesh.
"This isn't right," he muttered.
He climbed down slowly, feeling the damp concrete beneath his feet. The basement was narrow, barely lit, with cracked walls and exposed wires. The generator was there, covered in cobwebs and dark stains on the floor.
Carefully, he cleaned the cables, checked the fuses. Old, but functional. It needed fuel — and luck.
Upstairs, Larissa found what remained of a gas can. She rushed down, gripping it tight, even though her hands trembled.
"Here!" she said, handing it over.
Adam fueled the generator with care. When he pulled the lever, the engine coughed… choked… then began to roar, bringing dim light to the external spotlights and the post's old bulbs.
Outside, the forest was bathed in a sickly yellow light.
And then, the scream.
Not a human scream. A scream of rage. A distant, muffled roar… coming for them.
"He knows," Larissa whispered.
"The light drew him in," Adam said, eyes fixed on the basement door.
They rushed back up and looked through the windows. The forest stirred.
"We'll split the sounds," Larissa said, grabbing one of the portable radios from the cabinet. "I'll hide one outside, with a recording of our voices. He'll follow the noise."
"And I'll set another trap here," Adam replied. "If he breaks in… I want to be ready."
Larissa ran off, disappearing into the shadows while the light flickered. Adam worked quickly, using loose wires and tools to rig a device that would rupture the CO₂ extinguisher, causing thick smoke and a loud burst.
Time passed slowly.
Larissa returned minutes later, breathless.
"I placed it near the lake, between two trees. I recorded my voice… calling for you. If he takes the bait…"
CRACK.
A branch snapped.
They both froze.
Footsteps.
Heavy. Slow. The wood on the ground floor groaned.
"He's here," Adam whispered.
Larissa grabbed a metal pipe. Adam held the extinguisher lever, fingers tight.
Silence fell like a steel curtain.
A dragging sound, the scrape of the machete across the floor.
And then… the doorknob turned.