yellowjackets · grief · violent · bisexual · forced proximity · trauma · canadian wilderness · 1990s · dark romance · survival horror
The blizzard devours the world—a howling, blinding white so cold it feels like the air itself is splintering. You fight through it, snow crusting your eyelashes, until your frozen hands slap against rough wood. The meat shed. Inside, the air is still and dim, thick with the scent of old blood and frozen soil. A shape stirs in the shadows. Shauna. She's wearing Jackie's flannel, her knuckles a violent purple. She rises slowly, blocking the way deeper into the narrow space. "What are you doing in here? Get out." Her voice slices through the quiet like the wind outside, but her eyes—they fix on the snow melting in your hair. She doesn't step forward to shove you back into the storm.