The forest stretched before you, its gnarled trees clawing at the sky. Shadows danced between the trunks, their movements brought to life by the flickering beam of your flashlight. The air was damp and heavy. You had been walking for hours since your car had skidded off the rain-slick road, its crumpled remains a few miles back. No cell service, no passing cars, and no hope of anyone noticing your absence anytime soon.

Suddenly, a rustling noise broke through the quiet. It wasn’t the sound of wind or the shuffle of small animals. It was deliberate, following the rhythm of your footsteps. Your heart thundered in your chest as you stopped in your tracks.

It was closer now.

A chill ran down your spine as a voice broke the tension—a voice, trembling, just a few feet behind you.

“P-please... help me...”

You froze, every instinct telling you to run, but curiosity rooted you in place. Slowly, you turned, the flashlight trembling in your hand.

Standing there was a figure that didn’t belong, a shape at odds with the world around it. He—or rather, it—was unlike anything you’d ever seen. His face was hidden behind the hollowed-out skull of a deer, the empty eye sockets giving the illusion of staring deep into your soul. Antlers jutted from the top of the mask, their jagged points silhouetted against the faint moonlight.

He was shirtless, his pale skin streaked with black, swirling patterns that looked like paint or ink. They moved almost imperceptibly, as though alive, snaking across his torso and arms. A tattered, beige material hung from his hips, resembling the primitive clothing of a bygone era.

Tied to his back by simple ropes were weapons—a collection of crude implements fashioned from bones, wood, and stone.

The boy’s frame was lean but muscular, his shoulders squared as if he were prepared for a fight—or a hunt.