๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐
๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐, ๐'๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐, ๐ ๐๐ข ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ข๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ข?
Sacramento, California โ 12:07 PM
JOSH
โธปJosh sat on the edge of his narrow bed, the sterile white walls seeming to close in around him. Two years had passed since he was admitted to the psychiatric facility, and today was the day he would finally be released. He stared out of the small window, the only source of natural light, watching the branches of a distant tree sway gently in the breeze. Cool morning air seeped through a tiny crack in the window, carrying the faint scent of pine and earthโa sharp contrast to the whirlwind of emotions inside him.
He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair, now longer and unkempt. The past two years had been tumultuous, marked by intense therapy, medication adjustments, and an ongoing battle with his inner demons. Diagnosed with PTSD, depression, and psychosis, his mind had once been twisted enough to orchestrate the horrific events on Blackwood Mountain.
As he waited for the orderly to bring his discharge papers, Josh's thoughts drifted to that fateful night. The memories were vivid, as if they had happened yesterday: the fear in his friends' eyes, the screams, the chaos. He could still hear Hannah and Beth's laughter, see their smiles. The weight of their loss was a constant ache, a reminder of his failure to protect them.
He clenched his fists, feeling the familiar pang of guilt. How had everything gone so wrong? He had only meant to scare his friends, to make them understand his pain, but he never intended for things to escalate the way they did. The wendigos, the terror, the deathโit was a nightmare that replayed in his mind every night.
Therapy had helped. Dr. Wilson, his therapist, had been patient and understanding, guiding him through the dark waters of his psyche. Together, they had spent countless hours dissecting his actions, his motivations, and his guilt. Slowly, he had started to see himself not as a monster, but as a broken person in need of help.
Josh stood and walked to the window, pressing his forehead against the cool glass. Outside, he could see the parking lot, where someone would meet him soon to take him to his new apartment. It was a small place, arranged by the facility to ease his transition back into the world. He would have regular therapy sessions, support groups, and a strict regimen to follow. It was daunting, but he was readyโor at least he hoped he was.
His thoughts turned to his friends, the people he had hurt. Sam, ever compassionate, had visited him regularly, her presence a beacon of hope in his dark world. She had forgiven him, or at least tried to, and that meant more to him than he could express. She had told him about the othersโhow they were coping, how they were healing. It had been painful but necessary to hear about their struggles and triumphs.
Chris had sent a few messages, mostly checking in. Josh appreciated the effort, knowing how hard it must have been for Chris to reconcile their friendship with the betrayal he felt. He recalled the moment Ashley had stabbed him, thinking he was the psycho, and he had reflexively given her a black eye. The memory always brought a twisted smile to his face. Would she ever be able to look at him without flinching?
And then there were Mike and Jessica. His plan to film them at the guest cabin had failed spectacularly. He chuckled darkly at the thought of their reactions if none of the wendigo chaos had occurred and he had published the footage online. Their sheer humiliation would have been a fitting revenge for how they had humiliated Hannah. Yet, he was relieved they had survived, even if they hated him.
Emily had been a surprise. He had expected her to press charges or demand justice for what he had done. But there had been no legal repercussions. Maybe she saw enough justice in the hell he had put himself through. Or maybe she was just waiting for the right moment to strike. He could never quite figure her out.
Matt and Kida were another story. Matt was likely still furious with Josh for putting everyone in dangerโespecially Kida, who had nothing to do with the prank on Hannah. Josh had buried her alive, and the memory haunted him more than he cared to admit. He thought often about Kida, her strength, her resilience, and how she had fought through the nightmare he had created. He wondered if Matt would ever look at him without seeing the monster who had nearly destroyed them all.
Kida had been one of his closest friends, aside from Chris and Sam. She had told him she couldn't be around him until he had his life together, and oddly enough, he appreciated her honesty. Kida had always been direct with him, never sugarcoating the truth. She had been tough on him for the right reasons, and even when he didn't see it at first, it clicked later on. He missed her presence, her unwavering honesty, and the way she cut through his bullshit like no one else. He wondered how she was doing in her acting career and hoped that one day they might reconnectโmaybe even collaborate, with him directing and her as his star. It was a dream he held onto.
Josh also wondered how his sisters would have reacted if they were still alive. Hannah, with her kind heart, would likely have been the first to forgive him. Beth, however, would have been tougher, more skeptical. She would have grilled him about his therapy, making sure he was truly on the right path. The thought brought a bittersweet smile to his face. He missed them both terribly.
Then there was the public. The Blackwood Mountain incident had turned him into a media spectacle. Headlines like "Psycho Behind Blackwood Horror Finally Released" and "Joshua Washington's Journey from Madman to Patient" haunted him. He dreaded the media frenzy awaiting him once he left the facilityโcameras, reporters, and public judgment. How could he rebuild his life under such scrutiny?
Josh turned from the window and sat back down on his bed, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. A knock at the door broke his reverie. The orderly entered with a smile, holding his discharge papers.
"Josh, your ride is here."
Home. The word felt foreign to him. He took a deep breath and nodded, grabbing his small bag. As he walked down the sterile hallways of the facility for the last time, he felt a mix of fear and relief. The world outside was full of uncertainties, but it also held possibilities.
New York City, New York โ 3:20 PM
EMILY
โธปEmily stood in the middle of her new penthouse in New York City, the panoramic view of the skyline sprawling before her. The floor-to-ceiling windows allowed the afternoon sun to cast a warm glow over the sleek, modern furnishings. The penthouse was everything she had dreamed ofโluxurious, spacious, and perfectly located in the heart of Manhattan.
She took a deep breath, the scent of fresh paint and new beginnings filling her lungs. This vibrant city was a deliberate choice, a stark contrast to the mountains and forests of Blackwood, where the shadows of the past still lingered. Here, she could start anew, focusing on her career and her future, free from the horrors of that night.
As she unpacked the last of her boxes, Emily reflected on how far she had come. The events on Blackwood Mountain had left scars, both physical and emotional. Absently, her hand touched the bite mark on her shoulderโa permanent reminder of the wendigo attack. Though the scar had faded, the memory remained vivid.
Coping with the trauma had been a long, difficult journey. Emily had tried many ways to numb the pain and escape the haunting memories. She had thrown herself into her work, channeling her hurt into her designs, but it was never enough. There were still nights when the nightmares were too intense, and the loneliness too overwhelming. Casual encounters became a way to feel somethingโanythingโwithout risking emotional vulnerability. Her confident, high-maintenance exterior had resurfaced as a shield to keep people at a distance.
Her relationships had changed, too. Although they had all experienced the same trauma, Emily found it hard to let anyone get close. She stayed in contact with her friends when necessary but maintained a distance, a barrier she wasn't ready to let down. Only Jessica and Matt were exceptions.
She and Jessica had repaired their friendship, mending the rift caused by Jessica dating Mike after Emily's breakup with him. Their bond had grown stronger as they supported each other through recovery. Despite this, Emily still harbored resentment toward Mike for nearly killing her over a bite that wasn't even infectious. She would never forget the moment he pointed a gun at her, with Ashley urging him on. That wound hadn't healed.
Matt, once someone she dismissed as a pushover, had become a close friend. Over time, she had come to deeply respect him. His unwavering support and understanding had been a lifeline during her darkest moments. Then there was Kida, Matt's partner. Initially, Emily hadn't been fond of Kida's straightforward, down-to-earth personality, which clashed with her own. But over time, her respect for Kida grew as she saw how Kida brought out the best in Matt. Their friendship had become a surprising source of strength.
Sam remained close too, their chats providing comfort and reminding Emily of the bond they had shared since that horrific night. Chris was more distant, their interactions less frequent, but there was still meaning in their connection, a quiet understanding born from shared trauma.
As she arranged her belongings, Emily's eyes landed on a newspaper sitting on the kitchen counter. The headline read, "Psycho Behind Blackwood Horror Finally Released." Her heart skipped a beat as she quickly scanned the article, which detailed Josh's release from the psychiatric facility. A mix of emotions surged through herโanger, fear, confusion. She knew this day would come, but seeing it in print made it all too real.
She thought about Josh, the architect of their nightmare. Could she ever forgive him? Part of her understood that he had been sick, not in his right mind. But another partโthe part that still woke up in cold sweats from the memoriesโcouldn't let go of the betrayal. Her chest tightened with anxiety at the thought of possibly encountering him again.
A voice from behind broke her reverie. One of the movers stood in the doorway, holding the last box. "Where should I put this one, ma'am?"
Emily glanced around the room, taking in the sight of her new home. "The master bedroom, please," she replied.
As the mover carried the box away, Emily felt a surge of optimism. This was her time, her place. She had fought hard to get here, and she was determined to make the most of it. With one last look at the skyline, she turned her attention back to her new home, ready to start this fresh chapter in her life.
Los Angeles, California โ 11:16 AM
MATT
โธปThe sound of gloves hitting pads echoed through the spacious gym, blending with the rhythmic thud of heavy bags and the faint hum of workout machines. Matt and Kida stood in one corner, focused and determined. Sunlight filtered through the large windows, casting a warm glow on the mat where they trained.
Matt, drenched in sweat, squared off against Kida, who held focus mitts with an air of authority. His muscles ached, but the fire in his eyesโdriven by a determination to improveโkept him going. Kida, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, moved around him with the precision and grace of a seasoned fighter, her sharp eyes assessing every movement.
"Keep your guard up, pretty boy," Kida instructed, her tone firm yet encouraging. She tapped the mitts, signaling Matt to strike.
Matt grinned, his usual charm peeking through his concentration. "Yes, ma'am," he replied, launching a quick jab-cross combo. His punches landed with a satisfying impact, but Kida remained steady.
"Good, but you're still dropping your left hand," she noted, stepping back. "It's all about balance and control. Don't leave yourself open."
Matt nodded, adjusting his stance. He could feel the burn in his musclesโa mix of exertion and the drive to improve. "Got it. Let's go again."
As he threw another set of punches, Matt's thoughts wandered to the last two years. Life after the horrors of Blackwood Mountain had been anything but ordinary, but he and Kida had found a way to move forward. They had both enrolled in the same college, a choice that brought them closer. Matt had poured his energy into football, using the sport to stay focused. It felt good to be back on the field, feeling the rush of the game and the camaraderie of his teammates.
Off the field, Matt had worked to rebuild his life. Classes, social events, and time with Kida helped him reclaim pieces of himself he feared he had lost. The gym became their shared sanctuary, a place to channel their frustrations and stay grounded. Exercise wasn't just for physical fitnessโit was crucial for their mental well-being too.
Kida had been his rock throughout. Her resilience inspired him, and he often found himself in awe of her strength. Watching her now, her movements fluid and precise, he felt a swell of admiration.
"Nice one!" Kida praised as Matt landed a solid kick. She lowered the mitts and stepped back. "Take a breather."
Matt wiped the sweat from his brow, breathing heavily but smiling. "You're a tough coach, you know that?"
Kida chuckled, grabbing her water bottle. "That's the point. If you can handle me, you can handle anything."
As Matt caught his breath, he wondered if their sparring sessions were wise. The idea of accidentally hurting Kida bothered him, even though she could hold her own. She was skilledโmore than capable of defending herselfโbut the thought still nagged at him.
"Why do I feel like you're holding back?" Kida teased, pulling him from his thoughts. "Come on, pretty boy, show me what you've got."
Matt smirked, shaking his head. "Maybe I am. Or maybe you're just that good."
"Flattery won't get you out of this workout," Kida shot back, a mischievous smile on her lips. "Maybe if you wrestle me to the ground, you'll earn a break."
Matt laughed, rolling his eyes. "You really think you can distract me with that? Not happening."
Kida raised an eyebrow, her tone playful but challenging. "Is that so? Because you look distracted already."
Matt steadied himself, refusing to be baited. "Nice try, but I'm not falling for it."
Kida stepped closer, her voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper. "We'll see about that. Ready for round two?"
Matt's competitive spirit flared. "Bring it on."
They resumed sparring, Kida's taunts keeping Matt on his toes. She moved swiftly, her punches and kicks landing with precision. Matt matched her intensity, his strikes growing stronger and more confident.
"Come on, pretty boy. Is that all you got?" Kida teased, dodging a punch with ease. "I thought you were an athlete."
Matt chuckled, the banter fueling him. "Just warming up. Don't worry, you'll see what I've got."
Kida's eyes gleamed with excitement. "I'm counting on it."
As they continued, Matt felt a rush of exhilaration. The gym had become their space to challenge and strengthen each other, a testament to their shared resilience. Here, they could leave the past behind, even if only for a moment.
"Nice combo," Kida said, deflecting his punches. "But you're still not getting past me."
Matt grinned, determination flaring. "Not yet, but I will."
He focused, watching her closely, reading the subtle shifts in her stance that signaled her next move. Gathering his strength, he waited for the right moment.
Kida launched a quick jab, but Matt saw it coming. He dodged and countered with a swift hook that connected with the mitt. Before she could react, he followed up with a low kick, throwing her off balance.
"Nice try, but you'll have to do better than that," Kida taunted, quickly recovering her footing.
Matt smirked and threw a feint to her left. As she moved to block, he swept her legs out from under her, catching her off guard. Kida hit the mat with a soft thud, surprise and admiration in her eyes.
"Gotcha," Matt said, a triumphant grin spreading across his face.
Kida laughed, light and genuine. "Alright, alright. You win this round."
Matt offered his hand to help her up. "You okay?"
Kida took his hand, allowing him to pull her up. "Yeah, I'm good. That was a nice move. You've been holding back."
"I didn't want to hurt you," Matt admitted, his tone sincere. "But you've taught me well."
Kida brushed off her clothes, her eyes gleaming with pride. "Thanks. And don't worry, I can handle it. You did great."
Matt felt a swell of pride at her words. They had come so far, both in their training and their relationship. He had learned to trust her guidance, to push his limits, and to draw strength from their bond.
Kida stepped closer, her playful smirk returning. "So, how about that wrestling match? Think you can pin me?"
Matt laughed, shaking his head. "You really don't give up, do you?"
"Not when I see potential," she teased, her voice playful. "Come on, Rookie, show me what else you've got."
"Alright," Matt said, grinning. "But don't say I didn't warn you."
They squared off again, this time blending playful banter with serious focus. Matt moved quickly, using his strength and agility to try and pin Kida, but she fought back with equal determination, her movements sharp and precise.
Despite his initial reservations, Matt found himself enjoying the sparring session. The physical challenge mixed with their competitive banter brought them even closer. He admired Kida's tenacity and skill more than ever.
As the session continued, Matt noticed a shift in Kida's demeanor. Her strikes became harder, more aggressive. At first, he matched her intensity, thinking she was pushing him harder. But soon, he realized something was wrong.
Kida's eyes were fierce, almost wild, as she unleashed a series of rapid punches. Matt struggled to keep up, barely managing to block her attacks. Tension coiled in her posture, and Matt could feel the anger radiating off her.
"Angel, ease up a bit," Matt said, trying to keep his voice calm. "You're going too hard."
But Kida didn't seem to hear him. Her punches grew more forceful, her focus entirely on him. Unease settled in Matt's gutโthis wasn't training anymore.
"Seriously, Kida, ease up!" he called, his voice more urgent.
Kida's face was a mask of rage, her strikes relentless. Matt dodged a vicious jab, but before he could react, she landed a hard punch squarely on his jaw.
The impact sent Matt stumbling back, his vision blurring as pain exploded across his face. He tasted blood. "Kida, what the hell?" he gasped, clutching his jaw. "What's going on?"
Kida froze, realization dawning in her wide eyes. She dropped the mitts and rushed over. "Oh my God, Matt, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"
Matt winced, rubbing his jaw but managing a reassuring smile. "I'm okay. Just caught me off guard."
Kida's face was pale, her eyes filled with guilt. "I didn't mean to hit you that hard. I just... I lost focus for a second."
Matt took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. "It's okay, really. I get it. Sometimes it's hard to keep those memories at bay."
Kida exhaled deeply, her hands trembling slightly. "I didn't mean to hurt you. It's just... sometimes I get these flashes, and it's like I'm back there. I see red."
Matt sighed, understanding all too well. "I get it. But we've got to keep each other in check. We can't let that control us."
Kida nodded, taking a moment to steady herself. "You're right. Thanks for understanding."
Matt pulled her into a hug, feeling the tension leave her body. "Always. Now, let's grab some water and cool down, okay?"
As they walked to the bench, Matt couldn't help but reflect on how far they'd comeโand how much further they still had to go. The gym was their sanctuary, but it also held the potential to reignite their deepest fears. They had to be careful, to support each other, and to keep their demons at bay.
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