The distant whispers of the night as the wind hollowed out secrets, crickets chirping enthusiastically and owls hooting vehemently and excitedly. The forest floor was moist from the afternoon drizzle, and the sounds of feet hitting the damp earth could be heard as the natural world withdrew.
A half-naked man was frantically fleeing, pushing low-hanging branches and shrubs aside to provide a route for himself while the invisible pursuing force caused a terror that accelerated the man's pace.
When he felt the cold approaching him more and more, he stumbled on the muddy path, took a moment to catch his breath, and then continued, shouting:
"Leave me alone."
The man stopped glancing behind him and began running faster to a safe location, but no one was there to react. He simply hoped that as he descended more, he would eventually discover a spot with people, as he had no idea what a secure place was.
All he could do was hope and remember why he had to leave this place; they were waiting for him, and he needed to locate them and hug them again. However, hope can occasionally be a poison that is difficult to swallow and enters your heart without you realizing it.
With his gaze fixed on the direction of the downward road, the guy's eyes widened in surprise as he noticed a massive cliff far off in the tree in front of him. Without hesitation, the man iron gripped the nearest tree with titan-like hands that resembled those of a worker.
He paused his descent due to the downward and muddy path, his gaze fixed on what he had promised would be hope but ended in disaster. A deep cliff with luxuriant protruding trees at the bottom, he gently crawled close the edge and considered jumping to the bottom.
The seven-foot drop would spell instant death if Lady Luck was on his side, but would she still be there for him after he used up so many of her tricks fleeing that place?
He simply isn't able to return. With his body shaking from being covered in mud and running, the man felt another chill that was not immediately hurting or exacerbating his discomfort.
However, this chill was difficult to locate as the man carefully moved his body about to find the region where the chill was concentrated. He clutched his throbbing heart, which beat like a drum, and quickly located the location.
"I have no other option." I must jump; I simply cannot turn back.
As he reflected on this, he slowly rose up with trampling feet, his hand clutching his chest as his body trembled repeatedly. He stood still as he went slowly, his body shivering, till he reached the edge, his toes stretching out to feel the absence of solid ground to walk on.
He was prepared to leap; he wanted to leave this place and locate his loved ones; he wanted to apologize for leaving them; he wanted to kiss his wife one more time and see his family's lovely smiles for a little minute was enough for him to hope.
But that was only a fantasy; he wanted to make it a reality, but for the time being, he must ensure that he never returns to that area, alive or not.
With his eyes closed, he whispered:
"I wouldn't make it, honey. Please pardon me; I wish I could have apologized face-to-face earlier.
He drew a breath when he felt a warm hand touch his shoulder, causing him to open them before he could see who it was. He was yanked by force and flung backwards, hitting hard on the tree he had hung on to a while ago.
The hit knocked out some of his vision as it slowly came back to him as he saw a silhouette of a short person wearing clothing with a hood covering his face, he could only see a sheath with a sword with a thin sharp frame (Katana), with clothing having some outer tie pockets with small blades on them and a shirt like armor.
Even though it was dark, the stars cast enough light to reveal a dazzling smile as the stranger said in a youthful voice that had just reached puberty:
"Mr. Donwood, I presume?"
The man paused to catch his breath before uttering, half-frightened:
"No, Subject No. 45 is me."
The man assumed it was them; they would ask a question with your name as a ruse for punishment and disobedience. But if you stated your name accurately, you were beaten almost to death; to stop it, you must mention the correct name, which is your code name.
The stranger sighed as he took a picture from his pocket and presented it to him, then asked again, tapping the photo with his finger.
"Is this you?"
The man's eyes widened as he forced himself to stand up and ask with venom in his voice:
"Who are you and what have you done to my family?"
He had extended his hand in an attempt to hit the stranger, intending to cause harm. But he hit nothing but thin air as he lost his footing and almost slipped over the edge. His eyes widened in panic as he realized his mistake, but before he could say anything, a palm stretched out and gripped his face as it pushed firmly on the ground once more.
The man was knocked unconscious with that force of power. With a deep sigh, the stranger withdrew his hand from the man and said:
"You idiot, your wife handed me the photo. I suppose I'll be taking you home."
The visitor described a man wearing black robes with a sign on the hood and chest sleeping in an awkward position far from the edge. Surprisingly, the head was pinned to a tree with a kunai in its mouth, with blood streaming from both the torso and the head.
The chaser was already dead. The elderly man is still alive. The story of the stranger continues.