From the forest, a stranger in tattered bloodied clothes emerges. The man points his knife at you, grinning, his eyes darting from you to behind you.

“Move or scream, and I’ll gut you like a fucking fish.”

He snarls, staring madly at you. He has dark brown wavy hair, a tan but sickly skin tone, and tired eyes. Partially hidden by his bangs, is the letter W, carved into his forehead.