As I stepped past the last flickering torch marking the edge of the settlement, the air seemed to change. It grew heavier, wrapping around me like a damp shroud. The earthy scent of moss and wet bark was tinged with a faint, sharp tang I couldn't place, something that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. The settlement fading into the distance as I ventured deeper into the forest alone. Levi had refused to come, his fear keeping him tethered to the safety of the town's border. I didn't blame him; this place had an eerie presence that felt alive, like it was watching my every move. The town's comforting sounds—chatter, the crackling of fires, and distant laughter—grew fainter until there was nothing but the whisper of leaves and the low hum of the forest's natural pulse. It was as if I had crossed an invisible line, stepping into a place where the rules of the outside world no longer applied.
With each step I took, the forest seemed to close in around me, its shadows stretching long and dark like fingers reaching for my soul. The light from the town faded into a distant memory, replaced by the oppressive darkness beneath the thick canopy. The air here was different—heavier, almost sticky, carrying the scent of moss, damp earth, and something faintly metallic. It clung to my skin like a film, each breath tasting of decay.
The deeper I went, the stranger the creatures became. At first, they were distant shapes, shifting among the trees—quick blurs of movement that darted between the underbrush or peered out from behind twisted trunks.
I had barely caught my breath when a rustle drew my gaze to a patch of ferns nearby. Something small darted out, and I caught a glimpse of its sleek, unnatural body—a fox-like creature with leathery skin, small wings folded neatly along its back. It tail looked soft and plump but also plant like. It paused for a moment, cocking its head to one side, eyes glowing with a soft, eerie green light. The creature let out a sound, a high-pitched trill that reminded me of wind chimes, before scurrying back into the underbrush.
I froze as the creature eerie eyes locked onto mine for a moment too long, sending a cold shiver down my spine. My stomach churned, but I clenched my fists tighter. This wasn't the first time I'd seen something unnatural, and it wouldn't be the last.
From somewhere above, a soft, wet flapping noise caught my attention. I turned my head slowly and saw a bird perched on a low-hanging branch, but it was like no bird I had ever seen. Its body appeared raw and glistening, as if its feathers had been stripped away, replaced with exposed sinew and muscle that pulsed with every heartbeat. The creature's head twitched in sharp, unnatural movements, and its eyes—small and beady—seemed far too human, studying me with an unsettling intelligence.
Each time it moved, thin strands of flesh stretched and recoiled, and I could see the outline of veins running beneath its shiny, moist surface. The bird opened its beak, revealing jagged bits of bone that looked like crude teeth, and let out a sound that was somewhere between a squawk and a gurgle, sending a shiver down my spine.
Despite their unsettling appearances, they kept their distance, their glowing eyes following my every move, tracking me from the safety of the dark. I felt their gazes boring into me, like they were trying to figure out if I was prey or something else entirely. I chose to ignore them, even as my fists clenched tightly, seeking some measure of comfort in this place that seemed to warp and shift with every step I took.
The forest wasn't just alive—it was aware. Every creak of a branch, every rustle of leaves felt deliberate, as if the trees whispered secrets they didn't want me to hear. Vines snaked down from the trees like living ropes, and the ground beneath my feet felt almost soft, as though it might give way at any moment. The deeper I ventured, the more the trees grew, their trunks becoming twisted and gnarled, some so wide it would take several people to encircle them. They towered above me, their branches interlocking to form a ceiling so dense it blocked out nearly all sunlight. What little light did filter through was green and muted, casting everything in an eerie, underwater glow.
My footsteps were swallowed by the mossy ground, each step quieter than the last as I ventured into the heart of the forest. The occasional call of distant creatures echoed through the trees, their cries strange and haunting, like nothing I'd ever heard before. It was as though the forest was filled with voices, each one calling out to me, warning me or perhaps trying to lure me deeper into its grasp.
As I pressed on, I began to notice changes in the terrain. The ground started to rise and fall in irregular slopes, roots crisscrossing like the veins of some giant creature. The air grew colder, and I could feel the moisture thickening, the kind of dampness that clung to your skin and made the hairs on your arms stand on end. The leaves underfoot were slick with dew, and the deeper I went, the less color there seemed to be. Everything took on a muted, shadowy tone, as if the life was slowly being drained out of the forest itself.
Then, something caught my eye—a flash of color in the monochrome landscape. I turned to see a cluster of plants with vivid, almost unnaturally bright purple flowers growing near the base of a massive tree. Their petals seemed to glow faintly in the gloom, as if they were drawing in the scarce light. As I stepped closer, the flowers seemed to shiver, their movements almost too deliberate, too aware.
I forced myself to look away from the flowers, my focus returning to the trail ahead. The deeper I went, the more the forest itself seemed to twist and contort. The trees weren't just growing larger; they were growing stranger. Some had bark that looked like scales, others oozed a thick, sap-like substance that glowed faintly in the dim light. The air was filled with the constant, low hum of insects, a sound that buzzed at the back of my skull, growing louder the deeper I ventured.
I stopped for a moment to catch my breath, my hand resting on the trunk of a tree. Its bark was rough and uneven, marred by deep grooves that looked like they had been clawed into its surface. I ran my fingers along the marks, realizing they were too deep, too deliberate to be the work of wind or time. Something had carved these grooves, something with claws strong enough to rend wood as easily as flesh.
A branch snapped somewhere behind me, and my entire body tensed. The silence that followed was thick and heavy. I exhaled and leaned back against a tree, the bark digging into my spine like an unwelcome reminder of the forest's sentiments towards me. I scanned my surroundings: the trees seemed to crowd closer together, their twisted branches forming shadows that danced and shifted. Even resting felt dangerous, but I needed a moment to gather my thoughts before facing whatever waited deeper within.
A trail. The underbrush was flattened, the soil clawed into deep trenches that mirrored the jagged scars in the tree trunks. Whatever had passed through wasn't just massive—it was deliberate. A hunter. The ground around the base of the tree was disturbed, the underbrush trampled and torn. I could see the faint outlines of deep, wide tracks leading further into the forest. Heart pounding, I followed them, the thrill of both fear and determination driving me deeper.
As I moved forward, the forest seemed to hold its breath. The usual sounds of rustling leaves and distant animal calls faded into a silence so complete it felt unnatural. The shadows lengthened, creeping in from all sides, and a chill settled over me, colder than the night air should have been. The sensation of being watched intensified, and I could almost feel unseen eyes tracking my every movement.
Then, just ahead, I caught sight of something moving—a creature that looked like a deer stepped into view. But this wasn't like any deer I'd ever seen. For a moment, I forgot to breathe. The creature moved with a grace so pure it didn't seem real. Its crystalline antlers caught the faint light, scattering it like broken rainbows across the dark forest floor. It was otherworldly, a fragile fragment of beauty in a place that felt carved from nightmares. I didn't want to move, afraid I might shatter the moment.
The deer's fur was a deep shade of black, dappled with luminescent blue spots that glowed like stars against the dark fabric of its hide.
It stood perfectly still, head lowered to nibble on the same purple flowers I had seen earlier, as if it were completely unaware of my presence. Its grace and beauty were mesmerizing, and for a brief moment, the unease of the forest seemed to lift. This creature didn't belong in a place like this—it was too delicate, too magical.
The tranquility shattered in an instant. A shadow exploded from the underbrush, claws flashing like jagged steel. It didn't just lunge—it consumed, the deer's terrified scream swallowed by the darkness before it could echo. The attack was so fast, so brutal, that I barely had time to process what was happening. In one horrifying instant, the deer was yanked off the ground, its hooves kicking out uselessly as it was dragged into the shadows by a monstrous force. I caught a glimpse of hooked claws and a flash of teeth before the deer disappeared entirely, its terrified scream echoing through the trees before being abruptly cut off.
I froze, every muscle in my body locking up as I stared into the darkness where the deer had been. The silence returned, more profound and oppressive than before, as if the forest itself was holding its breath. My hand hovered near my side, trembling slightly as I fought to steady myself. The cold air around me was the only thing grounding me in this twisted world.
The creature that had taken the deer was still out there, lurking just beyond the reach of the dim light. I could feel its presence, a malevolent energy that seemed to seep through the air like poison. It was watching me now, its unseen gaze crawling over my skin, and I knew that I was no longer the hunter here—I was the hunted.
The trees around me seemed to lean closer, their branches arching overhead like a cage, trapping me in this place where light and hope couldn't reach. The air was so still, so thick with tension, that even the slightest movement felt like a sin. I took a slow, deliberate step back, my breath shallow and uneven, but I knew I couldn't retreat. Not now.
I bent down and grabbed a handful of rocks and twigs from the forest floor, my movements slow and deliberate. With a shaky breath, I stood up straight, eyes fixed on the darkness that had swallowed the deer. I threw the first rock hard, aiming at where I thought the creature might be hiding. The rock disappeared into the shadows, and for a second, there was nothing but silence.
A low growl rumbled through the forest, so deep and menacing it seemed to vibrate through the ground beneath my feet. Before I could react, a blur of movement lunged from the shadows. A heavy force slammed into my chest, knocking me back against a tree. The impact drove the air from my lungs, leaving me gasping as pain shot through my ribs. I stumbled, expecting to feel warm blood pooling beneath my shirt—but nothing came.
I looked down, my breath ragged, and my hand brushed over the dented but intact chest plate Levi had insisted I wear. For the first time, I felt a pang of gratitude toward him. "Guess your fear wasn't so useless after all," I muttered under my breath, grimacing as I straightened up.
"Come on, you ugly thing!" I shouted into the darkness, throwing another rock, trying to draw it out. "Come on!" I yelled again, my voice cracking slightly. My heart was a hammer in my chest, threatening to drown out the sound of my own words. I hated how weak I sounded. Fear clawed at the edges of my resolve, but I forced myself to stand firm. If I was going to die here, I wasn't going down cowering - "I'm right here! Come get me!".
The growl grew louder, more guttural, like the earth itself was groaning in anger. Two sickly yellow eyes pierced the darkness, unblinking and predatory. Those eyes didn't just look at me—they studied me, the way a predator sizes up its prey. I could almost feel its thoughts pressing against mine, weighing the odds, testing my resolve. The faint pulse of their glow felt like a clock ticking down to something I didn't want to face.