The sky was bleeding into twilight, a bruised canvas of purples and oranges that offered little comfort. Dominating the heavens, the Hunter's Moon was already beginning its ascent, a colossal, pale orb that seemed to absorb the remaining light, casting the world into an eerie, silver-tinged twilight. For E.J., thirteen years old and acutely sensitive to the shifts in the world around her, the moon was more than just a celestial body; it was a harbinger, a chilling promise of the encroaching darkness. The air itself seemed to hum with a low, resonant frequency, a vibration that E.J. felt deep in her bones, a premonition that settled like a cold stone in her stomach.