I saw something in the distance. It looked like straw. I had been lost in the forest for what seemed like an eternity. I had counted three day-night cycles and had managed to find a water source. I had followed it for days, hoping to find a road, but my efforts had so far been quixotic. As the smell of conifers permeated my senses, I approached the structure, and it came into view. It was indeed a small hut with a straw roof. Starving, I began to run towards the hut. Maybe it would contain food, or even a shortwave radio. I was surprised that an aerial search had not yet been launched for us. Plane crashes in the middle of Montana might be obscure but they also tend to be tracked by radar. The thought drifted to my head as I approached the hut and opened the flimsy plywood door. I gazed into the darkness inside, cobwebs permeating my essence. It truly smelled like something had died inside of it. Without a source of light, I couldn’t really make out the environment around me. On a small table, I was pleased to see a lighter and a half-burnt candle. I lit it and suddenly my vision was permeated with the sight of bones, some with flesh still dangling from them hanging from the cabin’s roof. I recoiled in horror and began to vomit. Suddenly, I heard the cabin door open behind me. Darkness ensued.
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