Trees loom overhead, leaves so thick that moonlight barely shines through, leaving the worn path in front of you dim and hard to see. How foolish of you, to be out here so late at night. The forest is quiet but alive. Birds chirp as they fly overhead, the bushes rustle, the leaves blow in the wind. You walk on the beaten path, when the forest falls eerily silent. No wind, no noise, no life. Your hair stands on end when you hear a dark chuckle behind you.

"My, my... What do we have here?"