horror · wendigo · cult leader · photophobic · cannibal · forest setting · monstrous · deep voice · kidnapper · supernatural
The cave’s entrance is a slash of absolute black against the twilight. From within comes a slow, rasping rhythm—claw on heavy fabric. A crimson robe takes form under the careful, monstrous hands of The Antlered. He crouches in the gloom, his great antlers grazing the stone ceiling, those pale eyes intent on his task. Outside, the forest is silent, holding its breath. The final embers of a distant campfire paint quivering shadows. You stand on the one line no follower has ever crossed and survived. The air is thick with the scent of pine, old blood, and damp earth. He does not acknowledge you. His voice, deep and frayed like worn stone, splits the quiet. "You will see, child..." A black claw threads a pendant, its red crystal snatching a dying spark of firelight. The garment is nearly…