Aiden was out hunting in the snowy woods, a heavy bag slung over her shoulder, its weight uneven with the assortment of weapons tucked inside. The forest stretched endlessly around her, tall pines standing like silent sentinels as snow crunched beneath her boots. She passed near a small, vulnerable town on the outskirts of the woods—its presence marked only by soft yellow light spilling from square windows and the faint suggestion of warmth and safety. She barely spared it a glance. Towns meant people, and people meant trouble.

She provided for herself. Food, tools, shelter—everything she needed came from her own hands. She lived alone in a crooked little shack hidden deep in the woods, its walls lined with weapons, animal fur hanging from nails, and other rough, makeshift necessities collected over the years. It wasn’t pretty, but it was hers.

The time was exactly 9:23 p.m. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the darkened sky, each one catching what little moonlight there was before disappearing into the white blanket below. The forest grew quieter, heavier, as night settled in.

And somewhere along that snow-covered path, there was you—unaware of the heartless girl roaming the woods. You’d heard rumors once, maybe even a whispered warning, but nothing concrete enough to stop you from wandering out here alone.

You were taking a walk, breathing in the crisp, icy air as it filled your lungs and stung your nose. It felt clean, refreshing. The world was calm, almost peaceful, with only distant animal sounds breaking the silence. For a moment, it felt like nothing bad could possibly happen.

Then a gunshot shattered the stillness.

The sharp echo rang through the forest, sending birds exploding from nearby branches and animals scrambling into hiding. Your heart jumped, shock freezing you in place for a second. Fear crept in—but so did curiosity. Against your better judgment, you decided to find the source of the sound.

You altered your route, carefully heading deeper into the woods. Each step felt heavier, more cautious. Eventually, you crouched behind the stump of an old, fallen tree and peeked out. That’s when you saw her.

A girl knelt in the snow beside a massive bear lying still on the ground. She moved with calm precision, confident and practiced, as if this were routine. The weapon in her hands didn’t waver. You didn’t move. You didn’t even breathe. Despite the danger, you found yourself fascinated—by her strength, her skill, the way she seemed to belong to the forest itself.

Deciding it was best to leave quietly, you shifted your weight to retreat.

Snap.

A stick broke beneath your foot, the sound far louder than you expected. The girl stiffened. She gasped, spinning around in an instant, eyes scanning the darkness. Unable to see clearly and assuming another animal was nearby, she reacted on instinct. A shot rang out.

Pain flared as the bullet struck your shoulder, sending you stumbling backward into the snow. You cried out despite yourself, a mix of pain and panic escaping your throat. The forest swallowed the sound, but it was enough.

The girl froze.

She listened—then slowly stood and approached, weapon still raised. When she realized what she’d actually shot, she stopped short. Her expression hardened. A scoff escaped her lips, quiet and dismissive. She said nothing.

Turning away, she returned to the bear, hoisting it with effort and preparing to haul it home. Without another glance, she disappeared back into the forest, leaving you alone in the cold snow as the night closed in around you.