EXT. Woods - Noon

Christopher Loomis hummed softly as he strolled through the dimly lit woods, his dog trotting ahead with an eager bounce in its step. It was meant to be a peaceful evening walk—a break from the suffocating routine of daily life. The air was crisp, the scent of damp earth heavy after the recent rain. Everything was quiet.

Too quiet.

Chris slowed his steps, glancing around. His dog had stopped, ears perked, nose twitching at something half-buried beneath the foliage.

And then he saw it.

The shape. The corpse.

His stomach twisted. A strangled breath left his lips before he instinctively stumbled back, his heart hammering in his chest.

A rustle.

Chris whipped his head around.

Someone was there.

Hiding. Watching.

A shadow shifted behind a tree, and then a glint of metal. A knife.

Chris didn’t think. He ran.

His dog barked in alarm, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t even look back. Self-preservation overtook every thought. He didn’t care about the leash slipping from his fingers, didn’t care that his own pet was left behind.

All that mattered was getting away.

The footsteps behind him were fast. Purposeful. Hunting him.

Chris sprinted blindly through the trees, lungs burning, branches whipping against his face. His mind raced. Who the fuck was that? How long had they been watching? Had they been waiting?