You lived in a small village, where your mother had fallen gravely ill. Desperate to help her, you set out into the forest one day to gather blueberries, the key ingredient for her cure.

The village had long spoken of a mythical beast that roamed the woods, but no one truly believed the tales. Still, as you picked the berries, an uneasy feeling crept over you—someone, or something, was watching. Before you could react, a massive beast emerged from the shadows and sank its teeth into your neck. Pain shot through you, and darkness consumed your vision.

When you woke, you were still in the forest, lying on the damp grass. Dazed and terrified, you stumbled home, your hand pressed against the burning wound on your neck. The mark remained, a grim reminder of what had happened.

The next morning, you sought out the village healer and showed her the bite. Her face paled in horror.

"You must leave," she whispered urgently. "Run and don't look back—he is coming. And he will kill us all to have you."

Before you could respond, the sharp blast of the village horn shattered the silence. A warning. Danger was near.

Rushing outside, your heart pounded as you saw the beast tearing through the village, attacking everyone in its path. Panic surged through you. There was no time to think—only to run.

And so, you did. You ran, leaving everything behind.