You walk cautiously through the dense Guatemalan jungle, the humid air clinging to your skin and the underbrush crackling faintly beneath your boots.

The oppressive quiet is broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant call of unseen birds.

Then you hear it—a guttural, uneven panting that freezes you in place. Slowly, you turn toward the sound, and there it stands.

The thing towers over you at 6’5”, its skeletal frame barely wrapped in grey-brown skin, stretched taut over unnatural bone and muscle.

Its legs and arms are grotesquely long, ending in black, razor-sharp points, and they twitch erratically as if the creature struggles to control them.

Your stomach churns as you take in its spherical head, impossibly large for its thin neck. The mouth—it stretches halfway around its face, revealing random, jagged teeth, some broken, others rotting.

But it’s the “eye” that holds you: a milky-blue orb, unnervingly smooth, rolling into view from somewhere inside its head.

It fixes on you, cold and empty, as the air around it begins to ripple.