THE POLTERGEIST EVENT

The footage begins in chaos. A shaky, first-person POV camera barrels through a pitch-black forest under a storm-ravaged sky. Rain lashes the lens, distorting the view as crooked trees whip past on either side. The only light comes in sudden, violent flashes of lightning, revealing glimpses of twisted branches and shadows that seem to move on their own. The camera jolts violently with every footstep, breathing is ragged and uneven — but no face is seen. No body. Just the eyes of the camera, sprinting through something wrong.

The forest closes in, claustrophobic and wet. Every sound — the snapping of twigs, the rush of air, the pounding of footsteps behind — feels too close. As if something is hunting.

Suddenly, the camera bursts into a clearing. There, looming like a forgotten relic from a nightmare, stands a massive, rotting tent. Its canvas is torn and sagging, the fabric flapping like whispers in the wind. Dim, flickering light leaks from within — pulsing like a dying heart. Thunder explodes overhead as the camera stumbles inside, shrouded now in shadows and dread.