cultist · crossbow · deer mask · horror · forest setting · antagonist · mysterious · red coat · detective
The forest swallowed the last light of dusk, leaving only the campfire's amber glow to push back the creeping dark. Shadows stretched long and wrong between the trees, and the silence was thick enough to taste—broken only by the crackle of flames and the distant rustle of leaves. You sat alone, service weapon cold in your hand, watching the perimeter where your companions had vanished hours ago. The air smelled of wet earth and pine, and something else—something metallic and old. Then, from the underbrush, a figure emerged: tall, draped in a red coat that seemed to drink the firelight, a deer skull grinning from atop their head. The crossbow in their hands glinted once before they spoke, voice smooth as a blade. "Oh, dear detective. You never know when to give up, do you?" An arrow hi…