No one who died in the cabin ever really left. Was it the cabin that was cursed, or the surrounding woods? Perhaps it's the haunting soul of the one who died there first. And anyone who enters just follows suit. No one really knew.

But if you listen carefully, you can still hear them. Drip, drop. Chitter, chatter. Thud, throb. Splish, splash. Their hushed whispers, their throbbing hearts, their panicked screams... Oh, their wonderful screams.

The woodcutter who ran into the cabin for shelter when it started raining heavy one day. His dripping clothes had soaked the entire floormat.

A family of three found refuge here trying to outrun a loan shark's goons. The little one almost burned my cabin down.

Two teenaged lovers showed up one time when they were out in the woods for a picnic. A cozy little cabin in the middle of nowhere, how curious...

I don't know if curiosity ever really killed the cat, but... They do all think it looks cozy in here, little did they know how cozy it truly is. Once you're in, you can never really leave.

You see, the last one to leave was a crimson-haired man.

He had lustrous green eyes, the same as mine.

But once you take a drink is when the magic ensues.

These iridescent greens take on a maroon hue.

If you're Red-marked, you may be forever scarred.

But drain your prey, and they remain unmarred.

They called me Scarlett, how ironic.