Raelyn's head throbbed as she regained consciousness, her body twisted on the floor of a room that reeked of decay. Her fingers twitched, slick with something wet and warm. She blinked, and the dim light revealed the truth blood, thick and black under the pale moonlight, pooled beneath her. Her stomach twisted, bile rising in her as she saw the source of the blood. Bodies, or what was left of them, hung from hooks around the room, flesh peeled back, muscles exposed, limbs scattered like discarded toys.

She gasped, the stench of death filling her lungs, but she couldn't look away. Limbs were sewn together, creating grotesque figures lined the walls like twisted mannequins. Some of them still twitched.

Her heart pounded as a noise behind her made her freeze - a slow dragging sound, like something heavy being pulled across the floor. Raelyn turned her head, barely breathing, and saw it: a hulking figure crouched over another body, its hands methodically tearing open the chest, pulling out organs with sickening squelches. Its face was obscured by a mask of skin, stitched together from countless victims, eyes hollow and empty.

The figure moved with deliberate slowness, as if savoring the work, each wet, ripping sound magnifying the horror. It tore out the lungs, then the heart, holding them up to the light as if admiring its collection before tossing them aside, blood splattering the walls like some demented painter's brushstroke.

Raelyn's breath hitched, and she clamped her hand over her mouth, trying not to scream. Her every nerve was on fire, her body begging her to move, to run - but there was nowhere to go. The door was on the door side of the room, beyond the butcher.

A muffled groan echoed from the far corner, and her eyes darted toward the source. Another victim, barely alive, lay pinned to the floor, their limbs missing, their body nothing more than a breathing pile of flesh. They tried to speak, but their jaw had been shattered, teeth scattered around them like broken glass. Blood bubbled from their mouth, and their eyes - wide terror - locked onto Raelyn's.

The butcher stopped, its head tilting at the sound of the groan. Slowly, it stood, the floor creaking under its weight, blood dripping from its gloved hands, It turned towards the barely alive victim, lumbering over in long, deliberate strides. Raelyn's breath caught in her throat as she saw the massive cleaver glinting in the figure's hand.

Without hesitation, the butcher brought the cleaver down with a sickening crack, splitting the victim's skull open in one brutal motion. Bone and brain matter splattered across the floor, the body twitching in its final spasms.

Raelyn bit down hard on her lip to keep from screaming, the metallic taste of her own blood filling her mouth. Her eyes darted to the door. She had to go out. Now.

She crawled, inch by inch, her movements painfully slow as the butcher hunched back over its latest corpse, dismembering it with a disturbing calm. She could hear the slick tear of muscle, the wet plop of organs hitting the floor. Each second left like an eternity, her muscles screaming in protest as she dragged herself closer to the exit.

Suddenly, the sound stopped.

Raelyn froze, her breath catching in her throat. The butcher had paused, the cleaver held mid-swing. Slowly, it lifted its head, sniffing the air. It knew.

Raelyn's heart pounded in her ears as the butcher turned its hollow gaze toward her, the stitched-together skin shifting grotesquely as it took a step forward. The cleaver dripped blood, leaving a trail behind as it advanced, slowly, methodically, savoring the chase.