A Sound

The silence was brief. They had barely walked a few meters when a sharp crack tore through the air behind them.

Dylan spun around in a flash, rifle already raised. But there was nothing. Just the forest and its illusions.

But he could feel it. Something was coming.

Maggie scanned the hedges, her fingers tight around the grip of her pistol. "Bad idea to wait. We move."

They picked up the pace, their footsteps muffled by the forest's soft ground. The howls had stopped, replaced by a low rustling, like dozens of dragging feet on moss.

"Shit…" Dylan muttered.

They reached a clearing bathed in pale light. In the center stood a dead, gnarled tree, its twisted branches clawing toward the sky like frozen fingers in a final scream.

And all around... shadows formed beneath the trees.

Dozens of them. Creatures with hunched bodies, green skin glistening under the filtered sunlight. They didn't move, frozen in eerie anticipation. Their eyes glowed with a sickly yellow hue.

Maggie held her breath. Dylan felt his pulse spike.

He took a step back and bumped into the dead tree, one of its branches brushing against his back.

He let out an involuntary grunt.

One of the creatures slowly turned its head toward them. Then another. Then all of them.

The air went still.

And then all hell broke loose.

Maggie fired first. And she was good. Her first shot hit home—one of the green-skinned creatures dropped, a gaping hole in its forehead.

"At least they're not bulletproof," Dylan thought.

Without hesitation, he joined in. Taking cover behind the tree to dodge the crude axes and arrows being hurled at them, he stayed calm and focused.

There were too many. Dozens. Dylan knew he couldn't afford to burn through his mags too fast.

Each magazine held 30 rounds. He had to make every shot count. He waited until they got closer, ensuring every bullet found a target—even though he could hit something clean at 300 meters.

But this wasn't a shooting range. This was chaos. And chaos was like his second home.

The creatures surged forward, eyes blazing with hunger and rage. Maggie reloaded swiftly and kept firing, downing three more in seconds.

Dylan exhaled slowly, finger tightening on the trigger.

The first shot shattered the air. A head burst open under the impact, blackish gore spraying out. Dylan pivoted slightly, aimed at another's chest—it dropped, gurgling.

But for each monster they downed, two took its place.

Maggie, to his left, kept a steady stream of fire, but her magazine was running dry fast. She cursed, stepped back, and shot Dylan a worried glance.

"We're screwed."

He knew it. He felt it in the adrenaline hammering in his skull.

A larger creature broke through the horde, charging at him with a crude spear raised high. Dylan waited… one second… two…

He fired.

The bullet punched through its throat. It staggered, then collapsed in a wet rasp.

But the others kept coming.

"Plan B?" Maggie panted.

Dylan grunted, pulled a grenade from his pocket, and yanked the pin.

"Plan B."

He lobbed it into the writhing mass. A second later, a muffled boom tore through the night, sending limbs and viscera flying in all directions.

Silence fell. Then a howl.

Dylan and Maggie looked up.

A larger, bulkier silhouette loomed among the trees.

They didn't wait.

Without a word, they turned and bolted through the forest, their footsteps thudding against the soft ground. Maggie led the way, Dylan covered the rear. They didn't know what was chasing them, and honestly, Dylan didn't care.

They just had to run.

Their breathing grew ragged, burning their throats, but they didn't slow. Behind them, branches cracked under the weight of the thing pursuing them. Too fast. Too heavy.

They plunged deeper into the forest, the threat pushing them on, until darkness swallowed them whole.

They entered a darker part of the woods, and, just like that, the sounds behind them stopped.

"That's definitely not a coincidence…" Dylan thought, raising his rifle as he crept forward. Maggie was behind him, watching their rear.

Everything here reeked of danger. The air was heavy, foul. Thick fog crept between the dead trees, their bark etched with deep claw marks. All around, bones littered the ground—scattered, shattered, belonging to creatures of all sizes.

And then, there was that.

Those bone spikes, piercing several nearby trees—a grim sight Dylan had seen before.

A shiver ran down his spine as they walked through the scattered remains. He whispered softly:

"Commander Maggie… I've got good news and bad news."

Without waiting for a reply, he went on:

"The good news is… we're not being chased anymore. And probably won't be."

He paused, then added gravely:

"The bad news… is that we just stepped into the territory of the creature we were told to absolutely avoid."

Maggie sighed, glancing around before moving forward again.

"I kinda figured that out, Dylan. I'm not an idiot."

Her tone was sharp—but she wasn't wrong.

She quickly checked her weapon before adding:

"Anyway, we've got no choice. Turning back means facing that giant creature… and with just two mags left, we're screwed either way. We're stuck."

Dylan nodded silently.

They moved on in silence, their steps light but fast, each motion deliberate. Every twig underfoot made them flinch. The air was so stifling they could almost hear their own heartbeats pounding in their heads.

The fog thickened as they advanced, swallowing the shapes of dead trees in a murky haze.

Then—a sound.

A faint rustling, barely audible, coming from their right.

Maggie froze. Dylan followed suit, fingers tightening around his rifle.

The silence stretched, heavy and oppressive.

Then, slowly, something moved in the mist.