A desperate cry pierced the air as a man sprinted with all his might, his terrified gaze darting back over his shoulder to check if his pursuer was on his tail, but all he saw were yellow eyes closing in on him fast.
He increased his already fast pace, his heart thudding loudly in his chest, and looked over his shoulder again to see if his pursuer was still onto him, but he saw no one.
Just as he thought he found salvation, he dashed sharply into the nearby bush.
[Rule number one,] a voice echoed through the darkness. [Never make a run into the bushes—when you are being pursued by bloodthirsty demons.] A figure whose legs remained casually crossed on a nearby rock let out in mockery as he observed the chaos with detached interest.
