Varg’s POV

The engine growled beneath my grip, the wheels churning against the dirt road as I pushed the car faster than necessary. The drive through the backwood pack was eerily silent, the dense trees pressing in on both sides like watchful sentinels. The further I went, the stronger the scent of damp earth and pine became, but there was something else beneath it, something rancid and old, like forgotten blood soaked into the roots of the land.

Bethany’s mother’s house came into view, a weathered wooden structure that sat like a lonely ghost in the middle of the clearing. The shutters were slightly ajar, swinging with the breeze, and...