Enter Chaos

A bloodcurdling screech split the air, followed by the thunderous crash of branches. In an instant, the quiet terror that had gripped the group exploded into frantic mayhem.

Shadows moved with terrifying speed in the darkness, and the survivors scattered, each person trying to flee in a different direction as the unseen stalker made its move.

Tristan was caught in the sudden frenzy. The ground seemed to shift beneath his feet as panic overtook reason. He scrambled to regain his footing, the echoes of terrified screams and the sound of splintering wood mingling in a cacophony of chaos. In the confusion, he could see shapes darting between the trees—fleeting, indistinct forms that vanished as quickly as they appeared. The forest had come alive with movement, and the relentless, guttural sounds reverberated all around him.

The havoc was disorienting. In mere seconds, Tristan found himself alone, separated from the others by the frantic rush of fleeing bodies. The group that had just clustered together was now torn apart, each person sprinting blindly in different directions. 

He fought to focus his senses amidst the chaos. The scraping sounds grew louder near him, and he could almost feel the creature's presence—a cold, calculated intelligence that stalked every movement. Every instinct screamed at him to run, to hide, but during the commotion, it was impossible to tell which way was safe.

'Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!' Tristan howled internally.

For a moment, time seemed to slow as Tristan caught sight of a dark shape looming behind one of the ancient trees. It was brief—a flash of movement, a glimpse of something too large and too silent to be human. His pulse quickened as he ducked behind a fallen log, trying desperately to steady his breath. The forest around him roiled with confusion, the chorus of panicked cries and the clash of hurried footsteps merging into a singular, overwhelming sound.

"Get…get away damn it!" he screeched, running away from the massless beast.

Somewhere amid the chaos, he heard another scream—sharp and wrenching, carrying with it a promise of pain. Tristan's eyes darted toward the source, but the darkness was impenetrable, and every direction looked equally dangerous. In that disoriented state, he felt both small and utterly isolated, as though the forest had become an endless maze of terror.

Minutes stretched on, each one filled with the relentless assault of sound and movement. The survivors' shouts and the rustle of branches blended with the creature's low, almost mocking growls. Tristan's mind raced—he could recall nothing of the creature's form, only the undeniable sense that it was both present and hunting. 

As the frenzied moment slowly subsided, a haunting silence fell over the forest. The chaotic noise receded as abruptly as it had come, leaving behind a landscape scarred by disorder and grief. Tristan, panting and drenched in sweat and rain, eventually emerged from the forest edge. He surveyed the scene with wide, disbelieving eyes. The clearing was in disarray—shattered debris, broken branches, and scattered bodies of those who had not managed to escape the attack. Some survivors lay motionless, while others whispered in panic as they tried to regroup. But, most were nowhere to be seen.

In the heavy gloom that followed, the only sound was the distant echo of the creature's final, low growl—a sound that reverberated in the silence, as if sealing its presence.

Tristan's heart pounded, and he could feel the cold sweat of fear on his skin, but for now, he forced himself to focus on the immediate reality: the group was completely scattered, the survivors were disoriented, and the forest still held its secrets.

He moved slowly toward where he last saw Roderick, calling out softly,

 "Roderick, Where are you?" 

His voice, small and tentative, barely carried over the lingering murmur of the forest. 

In the distance, a faint cry reached him—a sound of pain. It was enough to spur him on. Tristan navigated through the damaged forest edge, each step a struggle against the tangled undergrowth and the oppressive atmosphere that clung to the forest floor. Now and then, he caught a glimpse of another survivor— their faces twisted in fear or pain—each one a reminder that this night was far from over.

The creature had struck hard and suddenly, leaving the group totally fractured and terrified. And now, as the night deepened, its shadow loomed over every trembling heart. The survivors, once united by their shared plight, were now scattered among the trees, each one trying desperately to find safety or at least to understand the horror that had just unfolded.

Tristan paused by a large boulder, catching his breath, his eyes scanning the dark horizon. The oppressive silence that had followed the chaos was no comfort; it was a heavy, foreboding quiet that promised further terror. Somewhere in the distance, the forest seemed to watch with a silent, unblinking eye, and Tristan could feel the weight of that gaze upon him.

As he stood there, the remnants of the frantic attack still echoing in his ears, he realized that the night had only just begun. The creature—whatever form it might take—had made its presence known in a way that shattered any illusion of safety. The forest was now a living nightmare, and every shadow, every sound, could be the herald of another strike.

In that moment of stillness, Tristan vowed to find any survivors and hopefully Roderick so that he may be able to gather what remained of the group, and to piece together their next move. But even as he made this silent promise, a part of him trembled at the thought of what lay ahead. The forest's darkness was incomprehensible, and the stalking presence was far from gone. They were all trapped in a night that promised only further chaos and terror.

With a final glance toward the clearing Tristan took a deep breath and began moving cautiously through the forest, each step a desperate bid to reclaim some mask of order amid overwhelming madness. The night was filled with uncertainty, and every rustle, every low murmur, whispered of dangers yet to come.

And so, with the fractured group scattered in the darkness, Tristan pressed on.

Alone.