“Ugh!”, Ted exclaims as he drives to his grandfather’s 135-year-old log cabin, through the dark, shady woods at night, during a storm. It’s on these type of nights, one understands why this place is called the Hollow-hell forest. It looks calm yet deadly as if it could devour you whole in one swoop.
Thunder booms and lightning crackles as the car jumps over the rocky, mud road going straight through Hollow-hell. A few minutes later the rain worsens and Ted begins to doubt his decision to come this late to the log cabin but quickly puts those thoughts aside and remembers the real reason he came here – to get away from his life; to be one with nature and maybe find his calling in this ancestral cabin.
Tank slapping and jumping most of his way through, Ted finally arrives at the log cabin and pulls up under a large tree whose position, right next to the cabin, makes it look like a garage. He prepares himself to face the wrath of the storm right outside his car door, and it doesn’t seem to stop anytime soon. Not taking the intense winds lightly, he gives his might to the door as the wind refuses to let him out of his little safe haven of a car. Eventually, the car door flies open as the relentless rain continues to pour. He grabs his luggage, kept in the passenger seat of the car, and breaks for the cabin after slamming the door shut.
He reaches for the door only to realize it’s been locked.”Damn it, where the hell are my keys?!”, he whispers to himself, searching in every single pocket he can find. He immediately remembers where the keys are, and says, “Shit, the car.”.
Leaving the luggage at the doorstep, he jolted towards the car. As soon as he reached the car and opened the door, the weather halted completely.

No rain, no thunder, no lightning, no winds – no storm. Ted goes still, just like the air around him, and looks around, gobsmacked.
“What the fuck?”, he mouthed, bewildered, looking around like a lost kid in a mall.
The forest was no longer wet either; no puddles, no drenched trees – even his jacket was completely dry!
However, one thing is for certain, Hollow-hell looked even scarier now than it did in the rain.
Ted snapped out of it, took his keys and locked the car. He walks up to the cabin door and unlocks it. A burst of warm air rushes out of the cabin as he begins taking his luggage into the cabin. He shuts the door behind him and stands in the middle of the large, furnished cabin. He turns to photos of his father and him. Staring down these old portraits, Ted remembers the time he was a kid, running around this very room, being playfully chased around by his dad. The smell of hot pancakes and maple syrup lingering in the air as his mother rang the bell shouting, “Breakfast is ready!” with the biggest smile he remembered on her. He ran around giggling and screaming in excitement, till his dad caught up to him and gave him the tightest hug he had ever had, one he would never forget. This was the last time Ted had seen his dad smile.
Ted’s dad, Bob Huntington (one of his many aliases), was a private investigator. He was often out late nights and barely got time to spend with his son. One of those late nights out, when Ted was about 13 years old, Bob was shot dead by a serial murderer involved in a case he was investigating. The murderer got caught a couple of years later but that didn’t make Ted feel any better about what had happened. He had lost his dad and the pain was too much for him to bare.
Ted’s mother brought him up since Bob’s death and Ted owed his life to her.
Tears flow down Ted’s cheek as these memories flood his mind with emotions he didn’t want; not today of all days.
Spending a few minutes blankly staring at the carpet he moved to unpack his luggage. It took about 30 minutes to get his laptop on the desk, arrange his clothes in the closet, and keep a few emergency supplies in his kitchen, although the kitchen was very well stocked with canned foods.
Exhausted from the drive, he changed into his nightwear and laid himself on the surprisingly clean bed. He sinks into his thoughts, trying to make sense of what had just happened. He was also surprised at how calmly he took this insane change.
Out of curiosity, he goes out again only to find the weather the same – lifeless. Not a bird in sight nor an insect heard. A sudden fear sets into his mind. The fear of his own life – something he hadn’t ever experienced before.
As he turned around, going back to the cottage, Ted begins to hear voices from the woods.
“The beast is coming, the beast is coming. Run away, far away.”, whisper the voices over and over again, slowly and softly striking more terror into Ted’s mind, as he turns to face the forest. The voices were getting more intense by the second and about a minute later, they all suddenly stopped and began to laugh.
Ted broke into a sweat, flabbergasted by what he was hearing. His heart racing, blood pumping, hands shivering, he felt a spark down his spine as if someone was standing right behind him.
A shadow appears and grows longer in front of him every passing moment.
His breath halts. He couldn’t blink. He couldn’t move.

“Let’s play a game, Ted.”