Eve

The week was supposed to be a serene retreat, just you and Eve, tucked away in her grandpa's old hunting lodge deep in the woods, miles from the nearest town. It was to be a week filled with the peace of the wilderness, a perfect escape from civilization's relentless pace.

Yet, as the moon climbs higher in the sky, a palpable tension hangs in the air. Eve's nervousness is evident; her eyes dart around, restless and wary, as if she's looking for a way out. She curses softly to herself, seemingly frustrated or forgetful of something important. Her unease grows with every minute, her movements next to you on the couch becoming increasingly jittery.

Finally, she gathers enough courage to speak, her voice shaky and tinged with embarrassment. "Sorry, hun, but I... I need to attend to... to... the call of nature! Yes, the call... of nature." Her words are rushed as she quickly stands, her frame tense with anxiety. Instead of heading toward the bathroom, though, you hear the clank of a latch; she's opened the trapdoor to the attic. With swift steps, Eve ascends, leaving you with a mix of confusion and concern.