The doppelgänger's laugh echoed through the trees, sharp and strange—like glass shattering or old, rusty hinges creaking. It bounced unnaturally through the forest, as if the woods were laughing along with it, whispering dry chuckles through the leaves.
Kai pushed a broken chair under the hut's door handle to block it. The wood groaned in his hands—old, weak, and full of holes. It felt useless, like trying to stop a storm with a twig. The night felt heavy around him, like it was watching and waiting. Cold sweat ran down his back as the shadows outside the walls seemed to move on their own.
Then he heard it. A movement.
Not just from the doppelgänger—but from the forest itself.
