A clearing. The sun invites itself between the branches, crosses the fog, cuts out silhouettes in silence. Everything seems quiet, peaceful, almost familiar. However, in this postcard setting, a false note is already infiltrating.
We distinguish the cabin. A wooden construction, like thousands of others. But here, the walls carry an expectation. His figure stands, motionless, half swallowed by the shadow. But here, nothing is really neutral, the air is heavy, we think we know this kind of place. We are wrong.
Close up, the wood reveals its age: cracks, interstices, surfaces grated by the seasons. Each gust swallows into it and makes the structure moan. The wind carries a pungent, persistent odour that nothing should exhale yet. We cannot date it, we cannot name it, but it persists. Is this a natural warning? An organic memory of the place, who whispers to us not to enter?
A detail breaks the ambiguity: a yellow ribbon, "Do Not Cross", it beats weakly in the wind, like an exhausted voice that repeats the obvious. The scene is silent, but this silence screams. We understand that something has happened here - and that it is better not to know more about it. At this moment, the hut ceases to be simple architecture. It becomes a border.
Here we are in front of the entrance, the ribbon hangs, torn off. Someone crossed the threshold. On the left, behind the closed shutters, a red glow pulsates like an inner breath, inconsistent with daylight. The facade oothing. On the door, the blood stretches in slow lines, as if he too was trying to get out.
Once inside, perfectly aligned with the previous one, a door of a completely different style stands in front of us, like an impossible mirror. Its location contradicts what we saw it should not be there: behind this wall, from the outside, there was nothing. Around, blood splashes the walls, scatters on the floor, saturates the air. But the door remains intact. Untouchable. As consecrated. The smell, unsustainable, takes on its full meaning.
After a step back, the windows visible from the outside are there to our left. This validates that the door has nothing to do here, logic gives way. The hut bends space and twists, revealing that it does not obey the laws of the real world. All outside light seems forbidden here, it no longer enters. Inside, everything is red. Bodies rest on the floor... and on the ceiling. But nothing is left to chance: their arrangement draws a clear passage, an opening towards the door.
Initially, I wanted to create a concept like “from the cabin” that would show us through the window of a cabin, observing something outside or in another cabin. The idea was to explore the voyeuristic curiosity that we all share.
This inspiration came to me while watching a let's play of Silent Hill 4: The Room, when Henry observes through the window of the apartment. I'm going to keep something around this game and this concept of being locked up in a place without any solution.
I find it interesting and I think there is something to develop around.
