It echoes through the woods like a warning. And with it comes the smell: Chem De La Chem, thick and pungent, clinging to bark and snow. It means he’s near.

Locals say he survives on THCa Isolate—not just uses it, lives off it. His craving is ancient, unnatural. The isolate is his lifeforce, coursing through his veins. His body, over centuries, has built a tolerance so extreme no dose can touch him—except the purest. It has kept him alive far beyond any mortal limit, his strength growing with time.

Campers vanish. Hunters go missing. Their fires burn out, their gear left untouched—only the smell remains, and the bare footprints in the snow. Those who hear the cough know to grab their THCa and run. Because he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t speak. He only hungers.

Now, the people don’t question the legend. They bar their doors, hide their stash, and pray the woods stay quiet. But still, every so often, the scent creeps in on the wind… and that dreadful cough returns.

The Mountain Man lives. And his craving is eternal.