<Jhonnie.memory_6 active>

Jhonnie woke abruptly, his senses immediately alert to the disturbance that had shattered his sleep. The cabin was cloaked in darkness, save for the faint moonlight filtering through the gaps in the old curtains. He lay still for a moment, listening intently to the sounds that had roused him from a restless slumber.

Outside, there was a faint rustling—a sound that was both eerie and familiar. It was as though the forest itself was whispering secrets, the soft rustling of leaves punctuated by the occasional snap of a twig. Jhonnie's heart quickened as he remembered the wendigo's menacing presence and the unsettling connection he had felt with it.

He sat up slowly, trying to calm his racing pulse. The sounds from outside grew louder, more distinct. It wasn't just the wind or the shifting of branches. There was something deliberate in the way the sounds approached the cabin, something that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Shit..."

Jhonnie slipped out of bed and moved quietly toward the window, the floorboards creaking softly under his weight. He peered through the grimy glass, trying to make out any movement in the darkness. The moonlight cast long shadows across the grounds, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. The forest was still and seemingly empty.

The rustling continued, now accompanied by a low, guttural sound that seemed to come from somewhere near the edge of the clearing. Jhonnie's breath hitched as he strained to hear over the pounding of his own heart. He couldn't shake the feeling that something—or someone—was lurking just beyond the light.

He hesitated for a moment, then grabbed a flashlight from the bedside table and headed for the front door. The cabin was eerily quiet now, the earlier sounds reduced to a tense silence. Jhonnie took a deep breath, his hand trembling slightly as he turned the knob and stepped out into the night.

The cool air hit him like a wave, sharp and invigorating. The forest around the cabin seemed to hold its breath, the silence pressing down on him. He shone the flashlight toward the source of the noise, the beam cutting through the darkness and illuminating the tangled undergrowth.

He moved cautiously toward the sound, the flashlight's beam revealing broken branches and disturbed leaves. The wendigo's presence was unmistakable, even if the entity itself remained hidden. The eerie familiarity of the sounds made his skin crawl. It was as if the wendigo was taunting him, reminding him of their last encounter.

As he advanced, the rustling grew louder, and Jhonnie's pulse raced. He finally reached the edge of the forest, the trees looming like dark sentinels. The flashlight's beam flickered, casting erratic shadows that seemed to dance along with his unease.

Suddenly, the rustling stopped. Jhonnie stood still, his breath visible in the chilly air. The silence was deafening. He scanned the surrounding area, the beam of light cutting through the underbrush. There was no sign of movement, no hint of what might be lurking just out of sight.

Then, he heard it—a low, mournful cry that seemed to come from deep within the forest. It was a sound that resonated with an ancient sorrow, echoing through the trees and sending a chill down his spine. It was unmistakably the wendigo, its voice carrying a haunting quality that seemed to speak directly to his fears.

Jhonnie's breath quickened as he stepped back, the flashlight shaking slightly in his grip. He felt an overwhelming sense of dread, as though the forest itself was conspiring against him. The wendigo's presence was a dark cloud over his thoughts, its malevolent energy palpable even from a distance.

He turned to head back toward the cabin, but before he could take more than a few steps, he felt a sudden, icy draft. The temperature dropped sharply, and he could see his breath forming small clouds in the air. The sense of being watched was intense, the oppressive darkness closing in around him. He looked around at his surroundings, hoping to see something—or someone—watching him. No luck.

Jhonnie hurried back to the cabin, slamming the door behind him and leaning against it as he tried to calm his racing heart. The silence inside the cabin was almost as unsettling as the noises from outside. He moved to the window, peering out into the darkness, but saw nothing.

The wendigo's mournful cry echoed in his mind, and he couldn't shake the feeling that it was calling to him, beckoning him to confront the darkness within. The connection he felt with the wendigo was becoming more intense, and he wondered what it truly wanted from him.

Jhonnie turned away from the window, feeling a mix of fear and determination. The night had been a stark reminder that the battle with the darkness was far from over. He needed to find a way to face this haunting presence and understand the deeper connection it had with his own past.

With a deep breath, Jhonnie made his way back to bed, his mind still racing. The wendigo's presence was a constant reminder that he was not just battling external forces but also confronting his own inner demons. As he lay back down, he resolved to face whatever lay ahead with courage, knowing that the answers he sought were tied to the very darkness he was trying to understand.

"Maybe if I sleep...I can get my mind off of this...nightmare..." he tried telling himself, although his instincts yelled at him to leave, he ignored them.