<Jhonnie.memory_7 active>

The afternoon sun filtered weakly through the dusty windows of the cabin, casting long, flickering shadows across the wooden floors. Jhonnie sank into the old armchair by the fireplace, his mug of cold coffee forgotten beside him. The remnants of the previous fire were long extinguished, leaving the room enveloped in a quiet, uneasy stillness.

He reached for the leather-bound journal he'd found in the attic trunk, the one filled with frantic notes and dark revelations. Flipping open to a fresh page, he began to write, his thoughts spilling onto the paper in an attempt to understand the turmoil churning within him.

"Why does this thing have such a hold on me?" he scrawled, his pen moving with a mix of frustration and curiosity. "It's not like how others feel, it's not fear. There's something else. I just don't know what."

He paused, trying to articulate the strange new feeling that had taken root in his chest. "It's almost like... Not just fear or anger, but something that pulls at me. It's confusing and unsettling. I've never felt this way before...I like it..."

He leaned back in the chair, his mind drifting back to the wendigo's eyes—those glowing orbs that seemed to hold an ancient, mysterious power. "Those eyes were powerful and intense. They stirred something inside me, something I can't fully explain... fuck it."

Jhonnie's hand hovered over the page, contemplating his next words. "I can't help but wonder if there's a deeper connection. The wendigo's cry, its presence—it's not just about confronting a dark force. I don't know why but...it feels so...comforting in a way..."

He frowned as he wrote, the weight of his thoughts heavy on the page. "Is it possible that I'm feeling an attraction to the wendigo? It's as if its pain and hunger have become intertwined with my own emotions. Could it be that its darkness mirrors a part of me I've been avoiding? Nah. I kinda just wish I could comfort the poor thing..."

Jhonnie's mind raced, his pen barely keeping up with his thoughts. "This attraction is confusing. It's not just fear anymore; it's almost like I'm yearning for something connected to this creature. There's a strange allure to its darkness, an pull that's hard to ignore."

He sighed and continued writing, trying to make sense of the unsettling emotions. "Maybe this feeling is a reflection of my own inner conflict. The wendigo's presence seems to be a mirror, showing me something about myself that I haven't fully faced. I need to explore this feeling, to understand why I'm so drawn to it." Jhonnie stopped writing for a moment, suddenly his nose was bleeding.

As he reached the bottom of the page, Jhonnie closed the journal and leaned back in his chair, a mixture of confusion and determination settling in his chest. "If Im gonna face this, I need to investigate deeper... both the wendigo and this strange connection. It's not just about breaking the curse anymore, it's about understanding this thing and what it means for me." He wipes his nose and grabs a tissue. His nose had never bled so easily before.

He set the journal aside, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. The journey ahead promised both internal and external challenges, but he was ready to confront them, seeking answers and understanding as he unraveled the complex threads of his own emotions and the wendigo's dark influence...and getting his nose to stop bleeding.