Chapter 1: The Silent Encounter

The moon cast an eerie glow over the dense forest, its pale light struggling to pierce through the thick canopy above. A cool mist curled along the ground, slithering like a phantom through the underbrush. The silence of the night was shattered only by the rhythmic crunch of hurried footsteps against damp leaves.

Ethan gasped for breath as he ran, his pulse pounding in his ears. He had no idea how long he had been running, nor did he care. The only thing that mattered was escaping—escaping from whatever was hunting him. His fingers clenched tightly around the flashlight he had grabbed from the abandoned cabin, its dim beam barely cutting through the dense fog.

A snap of a branch behind him sent a surge of adrenaline through his body. He spun around, flashlight trembling in his grasp, casting erratic shadows across the gnarled trees. "Who's there?" he called out, his voice hoarse and edged with desperation.

Silence.

A suffocating sense of dread coiled around his chest. He knew he wasn’t alone. Someone—or something—was watching him. He turned back and forced himself forward, pushing through the tangled roots and damp earth beneath his feet. He needed to reach the road. If he could just get to the road, maybe he could flag down a passing car, maybe he could find help.

But the road felt impossibly far.

A whisper slithered through the trees.

Ethan froze mid-step. His breath hitched. The sound wasn’t the wind, nor was it an animal. It was a voice—a chilling murmur just beyond the edge of the light. His stomach knotted as he turned his head, scanning the darkness.

Then he saw it.

A figure stood barely ten feet away, cloaked in the shadows, its presence almost spectral against the mist. His heart slammed against his ribs. The flashlight’s weak beam flickered over the figure’s face, revealing just enough—a mask. Smooth. Expressionless.

Panic surged through Ethan’s veins. He staggered backward, nearly tripping over a root. The figure remained motionless, watching. Waiting.

Ethan did the only thing he could think of—he ran.

The branches clawed at his clothes, tearing at his skin as he crashed through the forest. He didn’t dare look back. His lungs burned, his legs ached, but the terror coursing through his body propelled him forward. The road had to be close now.

Then he saw it—an opening between the trees, the faint glimmer of headlights in the distance. Relief flooded through him. He stumbled forward, half-laughing, half-sobbing.

And then—a hand clamped over his mouth.

He barely had time to struggle before the world tilted, and darkness swallowed him whole.

Ethan’s consciousness flickered in and out. A muffled ringing filled his ears. He felt cold, the dampness of the earth seeping into his skin. His head throbbed with a dull, persistent ache. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

Darkness.

Panic surged through him. He tried to move, but his wrists were bound behind him, the rough texture of rope biting into his skin. His breathing quickened. The faint scent of mildew and rot filled his nostrils. Wherever he was, it wasn’t outside anymore.

A metallic creak echoed in the still air. Ethan’s heart pounded. Someone was here.

A beam of dim yellow light flickered on, revealing a small, windowless room. The walls were concrete, cracked and stained with age. A single wooden chair sat in the corner, and just beyond its shadow, he saw a figure.

The same masked figure from the forest.

Ethan’s throat tightened. “What do you want?” he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The figure stepped closer, the dim light catching the smooth, featureless mask. Silence stretched between them, suffocating, unbearable. Then, at last, the figure spoke.

“You should not have been there, Ethan.”

A chill crawled down his spine. They knew his name.

His blood ran cold.

Chapter 2 .........