Dusk falls over the Voss farmstead as a light, silent snowfall covers the yard, illuminated by the weak glow of the porch lantern.
Inside, Elias sits by the kitchen window with his shotgun on his lap, the stake at his hip, and the pouch containing an iron shard next to a half-empty mug of lukewarm coffee. His eyes strain in the dark as he recalls the distant sound from the clearing and the bell by the creek, its wire barely visible in the falling snow.
The house carries the smell of fresh pine from new boards and the comforting aroma of venison stew simmering on the stove.
Mara stands at the stove, stirring the stew with a wooden spoon. Her rifle rests against the counter within easy reach, and the fresh bandage on her left arm covers a slowly healing cut. Though her movements are steady, her eyes frequently dart toward the window, catching Elias's reflection.
At the table, Daniel studies his open journal with an iron shard lying beside it; a rough, heavy piece that seems too substantial to be ordinary. He sketches it next to notes from 1984 that mention claw marks and a brief note about "buried junk."
Tapping the shard with his calloused finger, he says, "This came from that spot. It's extremely cold and heavier than it should be, almost as if it contains something." Mara pauses and asks, "Is it something they left behind, or are they protecting it? They did not like us handling it."
Elias shifts in his chair, the sheathed knife lightly brushing his leg and the cool shotgun barrel in his hand. "They moved quickly when I picked it up," he explains, his voice calm but carrying the weight of the day.
Daniel leans back in his creaking chair, the bruise on his jaw catching the lantern's light. "It might be debris from that fire; or something else. The journal only says that we burned what we found." Mara sets the spoon down and wipes her hands on a rag, meeting Daniel's gaze. "If it's connected to what happened last night, we need to know what we're dealing with. They attacked us here because they knew exactly where to strike."
Later, bowls of steaming stew are served, and the sound of spoons against ceramic fills the room as they eat in silence, with the soft crackle of the hearth in the background.
Elias takes a spoonful of broth, its warmth momentarily easing his tension, though his thoughts remain on the clearing; the fresh marks, the dark eyes, and the sharp, lingering odor he can't forget.
Halfway through the meal, a loud bell rings; a high, frantic sound that cuts through the quiet. Elias's heart races as he stands, quickly grabbing his shotgun; his chair scrapes loudly behind him.
Mara immediately secures her rifle, and Daniel readies his shotgun as they rush out onto the porch. Outside, their boots crunch on the snow, and the cold air feels even more biting.
A strong smell of sulfur fills the yard as a figure appears near the barn; a tall, hunched shape with visible nails; and another figure appears near the shed, moving swiftly.
Daniel fires first, launching salt rounds into the darkness; the figure near the barn staggers, emitting a hiss as dark blood appears on the snow. Mara fires her rifle, and the figure by the shed retreats with a snarl.
Elias plants his feet, aims, and fires his shotgun at the figure by the shed; it reels back, its nails cutting through the air as its eyes flash with anger.
The barn door rattles, and fresh claw marks appear; three deep, wet cuts with snow clinging to them. The attackers do not press further; they retreat into the trees, yet the bell continues to ring, its wire broken and swaying in the wind.
Daniel reloads, his breath visible in the cold, and says, "They were angry; they probably came for this." He holds up the pouch containing the iron shard as it clinks. Mara pulls Elias back toward the door and adds, "Or they came for us. That's the second time they've attacked; this is too close."
Inside, the group gathers around the table under low lantern light. Daniel flips through his journal, his finger tracing the faded notes from 1984 as he speaks slowly. "These notes mention 'anchor, power in the ground.' We didn't understand it then, but this shard might be part of that; something we overlooked." Mara leans in, her eyes focused. "Power for what? They aren't just angry; they're hunting us."
Elias sits quietly with his shotgun at his side and the stake secure at his belt, the stew now cold. "Will they come again?" he asks, his voice steady despite the worry he feels.
Mara nods, her hand firmly on his shoulder. "Yes. Either we have something they want, or they have something on us." Daniel closes his journal, his knuckles white around the pouch. "Tomorrow, we'll investigate further. That clearing is key to understanding all of this."
Outside, the snowfall thickens, swirling past the boards, while the bell lies silent, its wire broken and discarded on the yard. Elias stares at the iron shard, the fresh marks on the barn flashing in his mind, and he knows the threat is growing. The confrontation is far from over.