The cold hit like a slap in the face when Jason stepped out of the cabin. The Alps, a range so still, so ancient, held a silence that seemed unnatural. Even the wind moved without making a sound, threading through the trees in a way that almost didn't seem right. Jason pulled his coat tighter, eyes scanning the snow-covered landscape ahead of him. It was late in the evening, the last stretch of daylight waning quickly. He shouldn't be out here, not this late, not so far from the others. But they didn't understand. They were all too afraid of the dark.
The stories. They'd told him the stories of Graktu, a monster that roamed these mountains for centuries, a creature who stole people away, who made them vanish like they were never there. Everyone in the town spoke of it with a nervous laugh or a quick change of subject. Jason didn't believe it. He had come to prove them wrong, to see for himself.
He didn't believe in monsters. Not in any sense of the word. But that didn't mean something wasn't out there, right? That didn't mean he should be so careless.
The others had warned him. "Don't go past the ridge, don't go into the forest at night." They'd said it like they knew something he didn't. He was so sure of his own disbelief, so sure that everything had a logical explanation. But as the wind cut through his jacket, that creeping doubt settled in. What if it wasn't just superstition? What if they were right?
He looked back at the cabin in the distance, a small patch of warmth in the cold. His group waited inside. They wouldn't miss him yet. It was just a quick walk, just to the edge of the woods. He wasn't really going far. But the air felt different, too still, as if the world was holding its breath.
Jason adjusted the straps of his backpack and took a step forward. The snow crunched under his boots.
He had been walking for almost an hour when the sun disappeared completely. Night was upon him now, the sky a deep shade of blue, almost black, and the stars hanging like frozen lights above. The moon, sharp and pale, cast long, jagged shadows across the snow. Everything felt too quiet.
He pulled his gloves tighter over his hands, his breath coming out in small, white puffs. He had come to the edge of the woods, where the trees grew taller and closer together. Something about the way they stood, thick and twisted, made him uneasy.
Jason hesitated.
His thoughts kept returning to the stories—those stories of people who vanished in these woods, of how they were never seen again, of how the mountain seemed to swallow them whole. But those were just stories, right? Old legends. Things to scare children. Nothing more.
Still, his heart quickened in his chest. He turned to head back. That's when he heard it.
At first, it was just a whisper, faint like the rustling of leaves. But then it grew louder, sharper. His name.
"Jason..."
He froze. He should've been alone out here.
"Jason..." The voice was lower now, distant. It seemed to echo, but it didn't come from any direction. It was everywhere and nowhere all at once. His blood ran cold.
His first instinct was to run, to turn and sprint back to the cabin, but his legs wouldn't move. Fear wrapped around him, a knot that kept him rooted to the spot. Then the voice came again.
"Jason... come closer..."
He didn't want to, but he couldn't stop himself. His feet moved on their own, each step heavier than the last. He didn't know why, but he had to go into the woods. He had to. He didn't know what had taken control of him, but it felt like it wasn't his decision anymore. It was like something else was pushing him forward.
The forest felt alive. The trees, gnarled and twisted, seemed to shift and bend as he passed. The shadows grew deeper, and the air turned thicker, heavier. Jason's breath quickened, but still, he couldn't turn back. He didn't know why. He just had to keep moving forward.
The voice came again, but now it was closer. It sounded like it was right behind him.
"Jason... why do you fight?"
He spun around, but there was nothing. The woods were empty, the moonlight casting an eerie glow on the snow. But there was something. In the distance, a figure moved between the trees, a silhouette barely visible in the shadows.
Jason's heart hammered in his chest. He should've run. He should've screamed, but the words caught in his throat. His body moved forward again, slow and stiff, against his will.
The figure was closer now. Tall. Thin. Its limbs twisted unnaturally, moving in jerking, awkward motions. Its face was hidden in shadow, but Jason could feel its eyes on him. Or something like eyes. He couldn't see them, but he could feel them digging into him. It wasn't human.
Graktu.
The name hit him like a punch to the gut, a terrible thought that broke free from the deepest corners of his mind. Graktu. The monster.
The figure stepped into the light, and Jason saw it.
It was taller than any person, its skin a pale, sickly gray. Its limbs stretched unnaturally long, its fingers ending in claws that scraped against the bark of trees. Its face was almost human, but twisted—its mouth too wide, its nose flat and misshapen. It had no eyes, only pits, black and deep, staring into nothingness. It stood there, unmoving, watching Jason, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence.
Jason should've screamed. He should've run, but the fear held him in place like invisible chains. His legs trembled beneath him, but he couldn't take his eyes off the creature.
It moved again, jerking its limbs in that grotesque, unnatural way. Jason's heart was beating so loud in his chest, it drowned out everything else.
And then, it spoke.
"Why do you come here?"
Its voice wasn't a voice. It was the sound of the wind through the trees, the rustle of leaves, the creaking of old wood. It wasn't human, but it was familiar, like something that had been around for as long as the mountains themselves.
"I didn't... I didn't mean to..."
"Then why did you stay?"
The creature's head tilted, as if considering him, examining him. Jason could feel its gaze, even though he couldn't see its eyes. It made his skin crawl, made his bones feel like they were turning to ice. His body wanted to run, but he couldn't. His feet were glued to the ground.
"Why do you stay... when you know what happens here?"
Jason's mind screamed, but his mouth refused to form the words. He wanted to say something, anything, but all he could do was stand there, rooted to the spot, unable to move.
The creature took a slow step forward, and Jason could feel the temperature drop, a freezing cold that settled in his chest and spread through his body.
"You will not leave," it whispered.
Before Jason could react, before he could scream or run or even think, the creature lunged. It moved with a speed that wasn't possible for something that big. Its claws sank into his chest, tearing through his flesh. The pain hit like fire, a scream bubbling up from the back of his throat.
But no sound came.
His body froze, his lungs frozen, his chest ripped open in an instant, yet no blood came. Nothing. His mouth opened, but he couldn't breathe, couldn't scream. He couldn't die.
The monster didn't kill him. Not yet.
Instead, it pulled him closer, pressing its cold, rotting body against his. Jason could feel its breath on his skin, a horrible, wet sound, like something crawling out of a grave. It whispered again, its words a sickening croon.
"You will be like the others."
Jason's body went numb. His limbs were no longer his own. He could feel his consciousness slipping away, like the cold was swallowing him whole.
He couldn't move, couldn't scream, couldn't even cry. The last thing he felt was the creature's fingers digging deeper, and then... nothing.
Jason vanished. He was never seen again.
The others would wait. They'd look for him, searching the mountains for days, weeks. But he was already gone.
He was part of the mountain now.