Until Dawn Remake: "Between Life And Death"

Chapter 7

Y/N POV:

I forced the secret door to the sanatorium open, letting Mike go in first. Once inside, I closed it behind us, sealing off the outside world. The eerie silence of the place wrapped around us, and Mike bolted the door shut, making sure nothing would follow.

I flicked on my light, scanning the decayed walls. Everything felt wrong. "Think we'll run into that wolf again?" I asked, half-joking.

Mike gave a small chuckle. "If we're lucky," he replied.

We moved through the chapel, following a familiar path, though the place had deteriorated even more since our last visit. It was barely recognizable. Among the debris, I spotted a collection of old newspaper clippings inside one of the cages, gathered by the stranger who once lived here.

His entire life had been consumed by hunting Wendigos, a legacy passed down from his grandfather, who had failed to kill the Makkapitew. Mike wandered over, curious. "What's a Makkapitew?"

I turned to him, my mind flashing back to that night. "It's what attacked me last year. What killed my sisters." My voice was cold as the memory surfaced again. "I guess I wasn't crazy after all." I walked away, leaving those words to sink in, a quiet sting left hanging in the air between us.

I scanned the area, but there was no sign of the wolves—like they had cleared out. The emptiness sent a shiver down my spine, the place felt even creepier than before. Mike was already searching around, and soon enough, he found a way up into a room from a hole above. He soaked a stick and lit it, turning it into a makeshift torch, casting more light into the surrounding gloom.

As he explored further, he came across a sawed-off shotgun on the table. Grabbing it, along with a stash of ammo, he motioned for me to join him. I stepped inside the room, stocking up on more shells for my own shotgun. Once we were ready, I followed Mike through the maze of the sanatorium, the tension growing with every step.

We stumbled upon a set of old crosses embedded in the ground, markers from the 1950s. I knew it wasn't a coincidence. These had something to do with the miners and what happened all those years ago. The air around us felt heavy, the past lingering like a ghost.

Just as we pressed forward, the wolf—the one we'd befriended earlier—leapt out from the shadows. I held out my hand calmly. "Hey," I said softly, trying not to spook him. "You remember me, right?" Slowly, I reached out and petted him. He seemed to recognize me and fell in step beside us.

Mike grinned, clearly pleased. "Alright, here's the plan. There should be a way through the psychiatric wing that'll take us right outside the mine. Think we can handle that?"

The wolf let out a low growl, as if answering. I smirked. "I couldn't have said it better myself." With renewed determination, we pressed on, ready to face whatever came next.

We trudged across the snow-covered ground, entering a different wing of the sanatorium. The wolf suddenly started growling—a sure sign that something was lurking down here. Mike spotted a lever and pulled it, halfway opening a rusted, stuck gate. I gripped the metal, forcing it fully open, and we ventured deeper into the heart of this forsaken place.

Then I heard it—a sad, low whine from the wolf. I followed its gaze and saw why. His companion, the other wolf, was strung up against the wall, its insides brutally exposed. The sight was horrific, and a lump formed in my throat. Without thinking, I gently moved the wolf away, shielding him from the gruesome sight of his fallen friend.

"This place is fucking evil," I muttered under my breath, the words barely audible.

The deeper we went, the more obvious it became that this was once the miners' domain. The walls were etched with desperate claw marks, remnants of something far worse than I could explain. The air was thick with dread, the sense that something terrible had happened here—and might still be happening.