Chapter 8: A Sound
The silence was brief. They had barely walked a few meters when a sharp crack tore through the air behind them.
Dylan spun around in a flash, rifle already raised. But there was nothing. Just the forest and its illusions.
But he could feel it. Something was coming.
Maggie scanned the hedges, her fingers tight around the grip of her pistol. "Bad idea to wait. We move."
They picked up the pace, their footsteps muffled by the forest's soft ground. The howls had stopped, replaced by a low rustling, like dozens of dragging feet on moss.
"Shit..." Dylan muttered.
They reached a clearing bathed in pale light. In the center stood a dead, gnarled tree, its twisted branches clawing toward the sky like frozen fingers in a final scream.
And all around... shadows formed beneath the trees.
Dozens of them. Creatures with hunched bodies, green skin glistening under the filtered sunlight. They didn't move, frozen in eerie anticipation. Their eyes glowed with a sickly yellow hue.
Maggie held her breath. Dylan felt his pulse spike.
He took a step back and bumped into the dead tree, one of its branches brushing against his back.