It’s 1989. Robert Baastad, his family, and friends navigate their seemingly ordinary lives in Øyerstad, a village nestled deep in the forests and cornfields of Indre Østfold. Robert races through the streets on his Apache bike, his little brother Fredrik pedalling furiously behind on his BMX. They are the Hulk and Spider-Man, famous football stars, and the highest-paid actors—whoever they want to be. They fly past the gas station near their house, their grandparents’ home, and across the road, abandoning their bikes as they dash toward the kiosk. It’s Saturday. Scattered houses stand silent across the Haugen fields, framed by golden corn, blue skies, and vibrant green grass.

They are oblivious to the darkness that lies beneath. Mysterious deaths, disappearances, and vengeful spirits stain hidden layers with blood red, grief-stricken black, and the sickly brown of rotting flesh. Something watches from the depths of the forests, lurks in the shadowed hills, and peers out from soulless windows. Something stirs beneath the surface of the bottomless Nixie pond.

Something dark is waiting. Watching.