Hey there, kids, it's me, Mr. Crevypasta, and before we get started on tonight's story, I'm going to let you know about a new novel from tonight's author.

Beneath the Wound, Book 1, The Revenant Directive, available now by Justice Figueroa, in the link in the description down below.

You can grab it on Amazon, and believe me. It really helps out for you guys to be able

to support authors, especially if you like the work you hear on the channel or on the podcast.

And now, on to tonight's story.

The forecast said, snow showers.

That's the exact phrase that got me to throw my pack in the trunk like I was beaten a clock on some fun little weekend reset.

Snow showers.

By the time I reached the pull-off, the world was already turning white in that slow, steady

way that makes you feel like you're inside a shaken snow globe. It wasn't blizzard conditions yet,

just thick flakes and wind that kept changing its mind, kind of weather where you can still hear

your own boots in the powder and convince yourself you're fine. I sign the trail register

with a pen that didn't want to work.

My glove made my handwriting look like a toddler's.

It was one other name above mine from earlier that morning.

No notes.

No back by sunset.

Just a name and a time that felt too early to still matter.

The first half mile in, I started second-guessing myself, not because I was scared,

because every tree looked the same, snow eats landmarks.

Trail blazes disappear when they got frosting on them. Tracks turn into soft

dense and then into nothing. Your world shrinks to whatever your headlamp hits. Mine,

...