Chapter Text
Snow. It was all that surrounded you. The pine trees were covered in snow, a sign of the frequent blizzards that swept through the region. In the middle of this frozen paradise stood a rustic cabin, built from the same pine that encircled it. Its owner was always diligent in keeping the house intact, even against the hardships brought by the low temperatures and the hostile environment.
The cold winter air found its way beneath your blankets, making you shiver slightly despite the many layers covering you. Letting out a low groan at the discomfort of the chill, you slowly woke up, still groggy. Another night without proper sleep, you thought to yourself. Your sleep had never been good—you had spent countless nights awake, tossing in bed and staring at nothing in particular, with paranoia as your constant companion during those hours. Sometimes, especially during snowstorms, something at the corner of your vision seemed to watch you from the darkness. A tall, strangely familiar figure with broad shoulders, completely dark, its clothes difficult to make out in the shadows except for what looked like a hat on its head. You never cared enough to acknowledge its presence, considering it had never done anything besides watch you from the corner of your room. It was just a hallucination, you told yourself. That thought was reinforced by the medical prescription you’d had since the beginning of it all, the paper guiding you about your supposed hallucinations, the schedule, and the correct dosage of the medication that came with it. You took them obediently, something in your intuition urging you to follow the instructions—otherwise, something bad would happen. It always left you confused. Trying to think about the reason behind everything only made your head hurt. You couldn’t think about your past without the pain coming, so you simply moved on.
Deciding to start the day right away, you got up, the first thing on your mind being to take your medication. One pill was enough for now—any more could cause side effects. Leaving your bedroom and heading to the kitchen, you couldn’t help but glance around the interior of your small sanctuary. Something in you felt especially sentimental today, recalling how you had built the walls of this house yourself. You had been lost in this vast expanse of snow, choosing to settle here because you couldn’t withstand the cold and urgently needed shelter. At first, it was just a hole in the ground, which gradually evolved into a wooden structure until it became a cozy cabin. It wasn’t a large place, just enough for you—not that you would be receiving visitors anyway. Walking down the corridor that connected your bedroom to the rest of the house, you passed by the fireplace room, a place that had brought you comfort many times and still did. The sofa and armchair were positioned so you could stay warm without the flames bothering you. The only windows in the room were on either side of the front door, both 2x2 panes placed in front to give you a clear view of your porch. Right next to it was the kitchen, separated from the living room only by a counter. As mentioned before, you didn’t need much—in your mind, two furnaces were enough. One for food, and one for smelting ores!
As if on cue, your stomach let out a faint growl, pulling you out of your brief trance to grab a quick meal. Luckily, during your small patrol yesterday, you had found the carcass of a rabbit—probably the work of a wolf, since the canines roaming the forest tended to hunt small animals and sheep. Sighing deeply, you simply stared at the furnace while waiting for your food to cook. Food was becoming scarce, and what worried you most was that you didn’t know why. You didn’t know if carnivorous animals were causing this imbalance or if they were migrating elsewhere. Either way, animal products were no longer a reliable option, which left farming. But unfortunately, you were also having trouble finding seeds, especially with all this snow covering the ground. Your shoulders, tense at the thought of spending hours searching for something uncertain, relaxed in defeat. Still, you accepted the situation—you had no other choice.
After your meal, you found yourself back in your bedroom, which wasn’t very large. Even though the entire cabin was yours, your room was where you allowed yourself to lower your guard, your place of comfort against the rest of the world—despite the hallucinations. Anyone entering your home would likely notice that you prioritized your bedroom more than the rest of the cabin. Though not big, it had enough space for a double bed and a few chests, where you kept your most precious belongings… like a single poppy you found during one of your patrols, growing amidst the chaos of winter. Even so, the cozy decoration would likely make anyone feel comfortable. Lanterns hung among vines you’d arranged, giving the room a slight fairycore vibe. A bookshelf leaned against one wall, while a desk sat beneath the window—also 2x2, like those in the living room. Wall-mounted shelves held small pots with pine saplings. Next to the chests stood an armor stand with worn iron equipment. Since your goal was something else, you paid it no mind, focusing only on your winter clothing. Choosing your usual outfit, you put on a plain black turtleneck, a heavy dark green winter coat, black thermal leggings, warm gloves, a fluffy black scarf covering nearly half your face, along with heavy boots and a beanie. Making sure everything you needed was in order, you prepared to leave the house with your crossbow and backpack.
As soon as you opened the door, you were momentarily stunned by the aggressive wind, the cold making you shiver even through your layers. Taking your first steps, you moved away from your small piece of heaven to patrol the surrounding area. Even though you knew the forest like the back of your hand, you didn’t want to risk going too far before dusk—you wanted to avoid getting lost before nightfall without proper combat gear. As you walked, you couldn’t help but notice how cloudy the sky was, even though the day had just begun. Looking up, you sighed upon seeing the heavy clouds, a clear sign of the storm to come. With a goal in mind, you wandered through the snowfall almost automatically.
Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours. You kept moving, your body accustomed to the routine—not exhausted, but somewhat tired, especially your legs. So far, you hadn’t found anything. This time, not even the wolves that usually preyed on animals were around, which you found strange—though it made sense if your theory about migration was correct. Predators go where the prey is. You, on the other hand, remained stuck.
“Ugh… damn it.”
Snowflakes began to fall. The snowfall had caught up to you—it was only a matter of time before the full storm did too. Quickly pulling a lantern from your backpack, you began retracing your path, taking a route you didn’t remember from your last patrols. Picking up your pace, you trudged through the thick snow in frustration. Not only had you found nothing, but you had also lost track of time. A sense of urgency hit you at the thought of nocturnal creatures emerging—you only had your crossbow, and the terrible disadvantage of aiming in the dark. To make matters worse, anxiety crept in, making you feel as though something—or someone—was watching you. A chill ran down your spine, feeding your paranoia. And of course, you couldn't even take your pills to calm down, since you had left your medication back at the cabin.
Caught in your inner turmoil, you failed to notice the obstacle in your path. A surprised gasp escaped your lips as you stumbled, falling face-first into the snow with a soft “oof.” The icy cold against your face snapped you more awake, urging you to get up quickly and leave. But something caught your attention as you pushed yourself up.
Something unnaturally black against the endless white—the reason you had tripped.
Fabric.
Confused, you moved closer, setting your lantern beside it. Brushing away the snow with your hands, your expression shifted from confusion to panic. Your eyes widened when you realized the black fabric belonged to someone—someone buried beneath the snow in freezing temperatures, at risk of death.
Your sense of urgency spiked. You began digging frantically with your bare hands, gradually revealing the unconscious figure of a man. His body was completely still, his skin extremely pale, his clothes worn and torn, with a large, open wound across his abdomen. The only sign of life was his weak, trembling breath.
“Ah—ah… shit, shit… You’ll be okay—just hang on…!”
Once you had uncovered enough, you positioned yourself behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso. Holding him tightly, you used all your strength to drag him out of the snow. When you finally succeeded, you collapsed beside him, your breathing heavy from the sudden effort, the exhaustion in your legs becoming painfully evident.
Lying there briefly to catch your breath, you noticed the sky growing darker, the forest around you nearly engulfed in darkness—saved only by your lantern. It was only a matter of time before something leapt from the shadows to attack.
With that in mind, you looked at the man beside you. He had clearly been attacked, though you couldn’t tell by what—the wound on his abdomen was far too large for a wolf or even a bear. Swallowing hard, you stood up again, grabbed your lantern, and hooked it onto your backpack so it could light the way.
Returning to him, you resumed your position, dragging his pale, bloodied body through the snow.
There were so many negative factors in this situation, so overwhelming, that you failed to notice a distant figure among the trees. Its height blended easily into the darkness, its claws dug into the trunk of a tree. The creature’s gaze was fixed on your weakened form struggling to carry the dead weight of its former target.
Even in your distress, you chose to take the risk for a complete stranger…
Something within the arachnid stirred—curiosity, confusion… fascination.
As you dragged the unconscious body through the snow with extreme difficulty, the creature continued to watch you intently. Its gaze never wavered, simply observing, committing the moment to memory—the moment you captured its attention with your altruistic act.
Ignorance is sometimes a blessing.
But in your case?
It might be a curse.