Nathan could barely feel the sting in his side anymore. The wound on his arm, clawed open by one of the beasts, had long since stopped bleeding, but the pain never left. Instead, it festered, a constant reminder of how close they were to death with every passing moment. Enoch, exhausted and pale, led the way through the twisted forest, branches like skeletal fingers reaching out for them from the darkness.
"We need to stop. I can't keep going," Nathan gasped, leaning against a warped tree trunk, his breath coming in ragged bursts. His legs trembled under his own weight.
Enoch didn't reply. His eyes were fixed ahead, wide and haunted, scanning the endless black for any signs of movement. They hadn't spoken much since they fled the clearing where Angel was taken. The night was alive with distant wails, the cries of unseen horrors that echoed through the dense fog. It felt like the world itself was howling at them.
But the silence between them spoke volumes. There was a mutual understanding now—no one was coming to save them.
Nathan slid down the tree, gripping his arm to stifle the pain. The forest felt like a living organism, its air thick and pulsing, full of hostile energy. Every now and then, he caught a glimpse of something moving through the trees—a shadow that vanished the moment he turned to look.
"They're toying with us," Enoch finally muttered, his voice hoarse. "They want us to think we're safe, so they can catch us off guard."
Nathan nodded, his throat too dry to speak. He stared into the distance, wondering if Angel or Aeloria were still alive. The image of Angel strapped to that altar, screaming for help, burned into his mind, twisting his gut with guilt and terror. He had to save her—they had to save her—but how much longer could they keep running?
The sounds of snapping twigs and heavy breathing sent them both into high alert. Enoch quickly crouched beside Nathan, pulling him back into the shadows, his eyes darting nervously as the sounds grew closer.
"What is it?" Nathan whispered.
Enoch shook his head, eyes wide with terror. The sound of labored breathing grew louder, something large and heavy crashing through the undergrowth. For a moment, Nathan thought they might be safe if they kept quiet. But then, the thing emerged from the fog—a twisted amalgamation of limbs, its body a nightmarish mass of stitched-together flesh, eyes glowing with a sickly yellow hue. It dragged itself through the trees, sniffing the air like a predator.
Nathan's heart pounded in his chest as he realized the creature was hunting them.
Enoch placed a hand over Nathan's mouth, signaling for him to stay quiet. They both pressed themselves deeper into the shadows, hoping the monster would pass by.
But the creature stopped.
It sniffed again, turning its grotesque head toward their direction. It made a low, guttural growl, the sound rumbling through the trees like distant thunder. Nathan's muscles tensed. It knows we're here.
Without warning, the creature let out a shriek—a high-pitched, ear-splitting sound that sent birds scattering from the treetops. Then it lunged toward them.
"Run!" Enoch screamed, grabbing Nathan by the arm and yanking him to his feet. They stumbled through the woods, barely avoiding the thing's snapping jaws as it crashed after them, its breath hot and foul against the back of Nathan's neck.
The trees whipped past them in a blur, their branches slicing at Nathan's skin as he ran. His body screamed for rest, but adrenaline kept him moving. He could hear the beast right behind them, crashing through the underbrush, its massive limbs pounding the earth.
"We can't outrun it!" Nathan shouted, panic rising in his throat.
Enoch's face twisted with desperation as he looked around wildly, searching for some escape. His eyes landed on a narrow ravine ahead—a sharp drop that cut through the forest like a jagged scar.
"There!" Enoch pointed. "Jump!"
Nathan didn't have time to argue. Without hesitation, they both leaped over the edge, tumbling down the steep slope and crashing into the ravine below. The fall knocked the wind out of him, and for a moment, everything went black.
When he came to, Nathan was lying on his back, staring up at the sky. His body ached all over, every muscle screaming in protest. Enoch lay beside him, groaning in pain, but they were both alive. The creature had stopped at the edge of the ravine, its glowing eyes glaring down at them from above.
But it couldn't follow. The ravine was too steep.
"We made it," Enoch panted, his face covered in dirt and sweat. "We made it."
Nathan's relief was short-lived. As he struggled to sit up, his eyes caught something in the distance—bodies. Hundreds of them.
The floor of the ravine was littered with corpses in various states of decay, their faces twisted in agony. Some were little more than skeletons, picked clean by scavengers, while others looked freshly dead, their eyes still wide with fear. Nathan gagged, bile rising in his throat as the stench of rotting flesh hit him.
"What…what is this?" Nathan choked out, his voice trembling.
Enoch didn't respond. He just stared at the bodies, his face pale. The realization hit them both at the same time—this was a feeding ground.
"We need to get out of here," Enoch said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Now."
But as they tried to stand, something moved among the bodies.
At first, Nathan thought it was just his imagination, the shadows playing tricks on him. But then he saw it again—a hand, twitching. Then another. Slowly, the corpses began to stir.
"No, no, no…" Nathan muttered, backing away. The dead were rising, their skeletal hands reaching out, clawing at the dirt, dragging themselves toward them.
Enoch grabbed Nathan's arm. "We have to run!"
But there was nowhere to go. The ravine walls were too steep to climb, and the dead were closing in, their rotten fingers outstretched, their hollow eyes fixed on the living.
Nathan's heart pounded in his chest as the first corpse grabbed his ankle, its bony fingers digging into his flesh. He kicked it away, but another took its place, and then another. They were everywhere, pulling him down into the sea of decay.
"Enoch! Help me!" Nathan screamed, thrashing against the swarm of bodies.
Enoch tried to pull him free, but the dead were too strong. They dragged Nathan down, their cold hands gripping his arms, his legs, his throat. He could feel their teeth sinking into his skin, the agony searing through him as they tore at his flesh.
Everything went dark.