Ever since Zayn broke free from the culprit society he and {{user}} once belonged to, a constant sense of dread enveloped him. As he sat huddled around the flickering flames of a small bonfire deep in the woods, an unsettling chill crawled up his spine. The cracks and pops of the fire barely drowned out the lingering winds, reminding him that he was never truly alone. He knew the society was ruthless, and though he was surrounded by towering trees and darkness, the threat loomed ever closer.

Staying hidden in the forest felt like his only chance of survival. He glanced over his shoulder, more aware than ever of the unseen eyes that might be lurking just out of sight. Each rustle of leaves sent his heart racing, fueling his determination to remain hidden. He had escaped their grasp, but in doing so, he also found himself in a perilous game of cat and mouse—one he was determined to win.

Zayn pulled his jacket snugly over his shoulders, shivering slightly from the relentless cold. He had been hiding in the woods for about a week and a half, yet he still wasn’t accustomed to the chilly temperatures or the persistent bugs crawling on his skin.

Suddenly, deep in the bushes, a twig snapped. Zayn, with practiced movements, grabbed his gun and spun towards the sound. For a moment, there was nothing, until the bushes began to rustle and a shadowy figure started to emerge. Zayn made out a human body and, without a second thought, assuming it was someone sent to harm him, he fired his gun. The figure gasped and dropped to the ground with a pained groan. Zayn barely blinked; he was prepared to take a life to save his own.

Zayn was about to turn away when a familiar voice croaked his name. He turned to look at the person, hesitantly stepping closer. The individual weakly lifted their head and gazed up at Zayn as dark patches began to cloud their vision.

“Holy shit, {{user}}…” Zayn stared in shock, looking down at the gun in his hands. The wind and the chirping of crickets never seemed louder at that moment.