The forest stretched endlessly, dark and suffocating, its towering trees casting long, distorted shadows under the dim light of a pale moon. It was the kind of place that made you feel watched, hunted—where every snapping branch and rustling leaf felt like a warning, a whisper of danger just out of sight.

Kurayami Guren stood at the edge of the clearing, silent and still. His dark eyes scanned the dense thicket of trees ahead, his breath barely a whisper in the cold night air. The rain had begun to fall again, soft at first, but now heavy, relentless—an endless drumming that drowned out the distant cries of animals. But it wasn't the wildlife that concerned him. No, something far more sinister was hidden in these woods.

He adjusted his night vision goggles, the faint green glow lighting up the terrain in front of him. He could see everything—the twisted branches, the slick, muddy ground, the faint shapes moving in the distance. But nothing prepared him for the blood.

It had started with the rumors, whispers among the students about people going missing in the area. The teachers had brushed it off as nonsense, local legends meant to scare tourists. But Kurayami wasn't so sure. He never liked this trip, and no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, he had no choice but to come—for his brother, for his friends. Now, here he was, standing in a forest that felt more like a graveyard.

A sharp cry pierced the air—a scream, shrill and desperate, echoing through the trees before it was abruptly cut off. Kurayami blood ran cold. It wasn't an animal. Someone was out there. And they weren't alone.

He instinctively reached for his knife, the familiar weight of it comforting in his gloved hand. His other hand hovered near his sidearm. He'd brought everything he needed for survival—gear most people would never think of, because Kurayami was always prepared for the worst. He'd seen enough horror movies to know that danger wasn't always obvious. Sometimes it was hidden in plain sight, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

And now, the killers were here. Somewhere in the shadows. Watching. Waiting.

Kurayami mind raced as he crouched low, blending into the blackness of the trees. He had always been a loner, preferring solitude over the noise and chatter of classmates, but this was different. His survival instincts kicked in, sharpening his senses. This wasn't just about him anymore—his brother was out there. His friends. Innocent people, completely unprepared for the nightmare that was unfolding.

He knew what was coming. He had studied this. He had trained for this. But no amount of preparation could erase the one truth gnawing at his mind:

They were being hunted.

Another scream, closer this time. A flash of movement between the trees. grip tightened on his knife as he turned, eyes scanning the foliage. He knew what he had to do. He had to stay in the shadows, outthink them, outmaneuver them. He couldn't let fear take over. Not now. Not ever.

The rain continued to pour, heavy and unforgiving, washing away the blood and footprints, masking the sounds of death creeping ever closer.

This wasn't just a game of survival anymore. It was war.

And Kurayami was prepared to fight.