The group moved forward in silence. Every step among the twisted trees felt heavier than the last. The world around them didn't just defy logic — it despised it.
Adam took the lead, shoulders tense, eyes scanning everything. The Hunter's Sense was still active, but… distorted. As if something was warping the perception of the world. The creatures here didn't leave normal tracks — they didn't hunt. They waited to be hunted.
Janaína carried Thomas with Érica's help. The boy was awake, but utterly silent since the possession. His eyes were hollow, skin cold, and his voice… gone.
"He's not the same," Érica murmured. "You saw what came out of him. It screamed with hate. And hunger."
"Thomas is still in there," Janaína replied, her tone more hopeful than truthful. "But there's something else too. Something that refuses to leave."
Adam stopped suddenly.
Ahead, standing in the middle of the trail… was a child.
Or what was left of one.
Wet hair, ashen skin, empty eyes. The legs trembled like they couldn't bear the weight. But the smile...
It was far too human.
"Don't approach," Adam said coldly. "It's bait. A creation of the house. Do not interact."
But the figure spoke — using one of their voices.
"Érica… why did you leave me?"
The girl froze. She knew the voice instantly.
"Lucas…?" she murmured, her eyes filling with tears. "No… this isn't possible…"
"Don't listen," Adam ordered, drawing his revolver. But he didn't aim. Not yet.
The entity began to walk backward, lightly floating, feet unmoving. It drew Érica toward a side path that hadn't been there a minute ago. Black trees, thick fog… and the sound of childish laughter.
Adam turned.
"If she follows, she dies. But if we leave her… she loses her sanity."
Janaína hesitated. "Are you going after her?"
Adam was already stepping away, but turned just enough to reply:
"I didn't come this far to watch my team be eaten by ghosts."
He entered the path.
The fog swallowed Adam like dense water. The system flashed red:
[Demonic Influence: 82%]
[Active Rule: Sensory Illusion – No perception is reliable]
[Warning: The next mistake could be fatal]
He pressed on. Hunter's Sense failed him, but Adam didn't need skills to recognize a trap. He focused on sounds, smells… and the pain of old memories.
Out of nowhere, a door appeared. Rotten blue wood, embedded in the center of a tree. Behind it… sobbing.
Adam opened it cautiously — and stepped through.
Inside, a child's room. Old toys, drawings on the floor… and Érica sitting in a trance, with the entity beside her. The child held her hand.
But it wasn't a child. The face resembled a boy's, yes — but stretched like skin over bones far too long. The eyes were ancient.
Adam raised his revolver. The entity turned slowly, still smiling.
"You lost someone too, didn't you?"
"She cried… while you ran. Larissa, right?"
Adam froze for a second. A sharp memory punched through his thoughts — his first teammate from the Friday the 13th world. Larissa. Killed. Left behind.
Guilt slammed into him like a fist to the chest.
But he fired anyway.
BANG!
The shot roared through the room. The entity screamed, but didn't vanish. The bullet pierced the illusion's chest — and struck the memory. For a second, the room shook.
"YOU ARE NOTHING!" the creature shrieked, its voice now twisted and hateful. "PAIMON SEES WHAT YOU ARE! A TRAITOR!"
Adam charged forward. He grabbed Érica by the shoulders, shaking her.