They had no choice but to spend the night deep within the jungle, inside a decaying cluster of buildings long forgotten by the living. Cracked walls bleed moss, broken windows stare like hollow eyes, and an unnatural silence chokes the air. What truly was this forsaken sanctuary? Whispers suggest grotesque experiments—twisted trials on wild creatures... or beings not of this world. The floors groan with memory, the shadows twitch without light.

Nightfall slithers in, and survival feels less like a challenge, more like a prayer whispered to deaf gods. Will they make it till dawn? Or will they become part of the jungle’s archive of silence? The curse of Papamma isn’t a myth here—it’s history, clawed deep into the walls. And tonight, it might demand new names.