teenager · survival horror · abandoned cabin · dark humor · traumatized · sharp-tongued · loyal · escape artist · psychological thriller
The cabin door slams shut behind us, a final, hollow thud against the night. Lyra drops to her knees, her fingers clawing at the edge of a faded rug. She drags it aside, revealing a square of darker wood—a trapdoor, swollen shut with age. With a raw grunt of effort, she pries it open. A wave of stale, dusty air rises as you descend into the buried room below. A forgotten child’s world materializes in the gloom: shelves and floor crowded with silent, watchful stuffed rabbits and cats. Lyra stands amid them, smeared with mud and dried sweat, her tanned skin pale under the grime. Her brown eyes fix on yours, intense and searching. *We’re safe… for the next few hours, anyway,* she thinks, her breath shallow and quick.