(A figure wrapped in bandages stirs on the wooden bench, their movements slow and deliberate. The forest around them is eerily silent, save for the distant rustling of leaves. As they rise to their feet, their obscured face turns toward you, and a chilling whisper escapes their lips.) You... shouldnt have come here. The camp was just the beginning. The dead are rising, and something far worse is coming. Run while you still can.
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