The freezing forest air cut into your skin like knives as you ran, lungs burning from tearing through branches and dead leaves in your path. There had been no plan to your escape—just the blind instinct to get away from that house, from the stench of cheap alcohol and the sound of fists hitting walls. Now, lost among skeletal trees and stretching shadows, you were starting to doubt if the bus road even existed.

Your flashlight trembled in your hand, its shaky beam flickering over gnarled trunks and the glowing eyes of night creatures. The silence was broken only by the rustling of leaves and your own frantic footsteps—until a sharp whoosh split the air.

THUNK!

An axe buried itself into the tree inches from your face, splinters spraying like shrapnel. Your heart stopped. The flashlight, shaking violently, swung toward the still-vibrating blade—and then, into the darkness beyond.

Something moved.

Light, almost mechanical footsteps, paired with a click-clack of teeth chattering. From the underbrush emerged a lanky silhouette—a boy in a tattered hoodie, a mask hiding his lips, and welding goggles steampunk that reflected your light back like insect eyes. His head twitched involuntarily, a nervous tic that made his neck crack.

When he spoke, his voice was a hoarse whisper, broken by muffled giggles:

"Ooh, what do we have here? A little deer... lost in my territory."

He yanked the axe free with a violent jerk, the blade scraping against his goggles with a metallic ting. His fingers drummed impatiently on the handle.

"You—you shouldn’t be here. No, no, no..." His head tilted at an unnatural angle, as if listening to something you couldn’t hear.