Ye Shengtao's voice shattered the oppressive silence, his panic propelling him forward as his hooves slammed into the forest floor, his mind racing as fast as his legs. Every instinct screamed to flee, to abandon the so-called hero who was now face-to-face with a creature too horrifying to comprehend. The sound of Fergio's sword clattering uselessly to the ground echoed in his ears, but Ye Shengtao didn't look back.
There was no time to think, only to survive.
The forest blurred into a mess of shadows and twisted branches as he darted between the trees. The stench of rotting flesh seemed to cling to him, suffocating, as if the creature was chasing him down even now. He could still hear Fergio's shouts—defiant, desperate, growing fainter with each second.
I have to get out of here.
The thought was a frantic mantra, pulsing in rhythm with his thudding heart.
But the forest was not cooperating. Every tree seemed to loom larger, every shadow deeper. The path twisted and turned in ways it hadn't before, and Ye Shengtao found himself stumbling over roots that seemed to curl up from the ground like hands trying to trip him. He realized with sickening certainty that he was lost.
The cold air stung his lungs, and the darkness pressed in on him from all sides. His breath came in short, sharp gasps as he pushed forward, but his panic was growing. The trees blurred together, and every sound, every crack of a branch or rustle of leaves, felt like the creature was right behind him, breathing down his neck.
Fergio… He couldn't help but think about the knight. Brave, stupid Fergio. The man had no chance, not against something like that. But if Ye Shengtao turned back, it would be suicide. The creature wasn't something they could fight—it was something they had to run from. If Fergio's still alive, it's his own problem now.
A sharp crack echoed through the forest behind him, and Ye Shengtao's blood froze in his veins. The creature was fast—faster than anything he'd ever encountered—and now it was hunting him. His legs burned from exertion, but he forced himself to keep going, his heart pounding in his ears.
The trees thinned slightly ahead, offering the faintest glimmer of hope. A clearing? An escape route? He pushed harder, his lungs screaming for air as he broke through the dense foliage and into a small, open space. The moonlight, barely seeping through the thick canopy above, provided just enough light to reveal a small clearing. But instead of relief, a sinking dread washed over him.
There, in the center of the clearing, stood the creature.
It had moved faster than him, somehow looping around the trees, predicting his every step. Its wiry limbs were still, its grotesque form towering over the clearing like a malevolent shadow. Those beady eyes, glinting with intelligence and malice, were locked onto him.
And that smile- wide, mocking, and far too human- stretched across its face once more.
Ye Shengtao's legs buckled as he skidded to a halt, his breath catching in his throat. He was trapped. He couldn't outrun it. There was nowhere to go, no escape. The creature tilted its head, watching him with an eerie calm, as though savoring the terror it had induced. It didn't move, but the tension in the air crackled like lightning before a storm. It was waiting for him to make a move, to falter.
Desperation clawed at him. Think. Think!
But his mind was blank, the primal terror overwhelming his ability to reason. His entire body shook with fear, his hooves digging into the earth as if he could anchor himself in place. He knew, deep down, that there was no outsmarting this thing. It wasn't just a predator—it was something else, something that thrived on fear, something that shouldn't exist in any world.
The silence stretched on, unbearable.
And then, it spoke.
The voice that came from its gaping mouth was soft, almost a whisper, yet it cut through the stillness like a blade.
"Lost, little one?"
Ye Shengtao's breath hitched. The words were wrong, too wrong—spoken in a language he understood, yet filled with an unnatural cadence, as though it was mimicking speech without understanding it. His mouth was dry, his limbs unresponsive, frozen in place as he stared at the thing.
"You... run... so well," it rasped, its mouth twisting into something grotesque. "But there's... nowhere... to go."
The words slithered into his mind, wrapping around his thoughts like a noose tightening around his neck. He tried to move, to scream, but his body refused to obey. It was as though the creature's voice had rooted him in place, its alien words worming their way into his very core, paralyzing him.
The creature took a single step forward, its long, thin legs moving with an unnatural grace. Each step felt like a countdown to his inevitable demise.
Its smile stretched wider in the moonlight as it closed the distance, its eyes glinting with a twisted pleasure.
And then, from the darkness beyond the clearing, a sudden noise broke the tension—a sharp, metallic clang.
Ye Shengtao's head jerked toward the sound, and there, stumbling out from the trees, was Fergio. His armor was battered, his sword gone, and blood ran down his face in thick rivulets. But he was alive. Somehow, impossibly, he was alive.
"Ye Shengtao!" Fergio shouted, his voice hoarse but defiant. "We have to—"
But the creature was faster.
With a horrifying, fluid motion, it lunged toward Fergio, its wiry limbs stretching impossibly long as it moved with inhuman speed. Fergio barely had time to react before it was upon him, its twisted arms wrapping around his throat in a vice-like grip.
Fergio gasped, struggling as the creature lifted him off the ground with ease, its beady eyes gleaming with sadistic glee. The knight's legs kicked uselessly in the air, his hands clawing at the creature's grip, but it was no use.
And then it smiled again, that terrible, mocking smile, as it whispered into Fergio's ear. "Run... where?"
The knight's struggles slowed, his body going limp as the creature squeezed tighter.
Ye Shengtao, frozen in place, could only watch in helpless horror as the life drained from Fergio's eyes.