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"Mikhail?" Luncien ran across the muddy forest, each turn being the same as the last. "Nathan? Guys! I'm here!" His voice began to strain, and his heart was beating faster and faster every second. The night sky gave little light, so Lucien's makeshift staff proved to be of use, revealing every rock that was in his way—yet even then, he knew he wasn't safe. He was afraid. Afraid of the stories, who told of what could be hidden in the dark. Lucien was sure the stories were true; he had seen them one too many times. He had seen them in the river or on the branches of tall trees, but those were in broad daylight, where all they did was stare. He wasn't sure what they'd do when nobody was around to watch.
A high-pitched croak answered him. The sound was distant, but it still rang in his ears. Lucien froze. His once-ragged breath had stopped, but his mind raced even faster. Slowly, he returned to his trek, except now that his mouth was shut tight and the bugs that crawled under his skin had returned. Lucien tried to reason with himself that those sounds were just animals, but his gut said otherwise. Then he saw it: a spot that was illuminated by the moon's light, with someone in the middle. It wasn’t his friend; no, its nails were too long, its skin too bumpy, and its eyes were too dark and too red, too—Lucien bolted.
He paid no mind to his surroundings, often tripping on his feet or on rocks, and it took all his body power to not slip on mud. But he didn’t care. All he cared about was the thing crawling after him, leaving marks on the soil. The thing was much larger than Lucien and nearly as fast, too. Lucien had only a shred of hope, and it was getting smaller each time he slowed down and realized how little oxygen he had left. The thing was inches away from him. Lucien wondered what would happen if it caught up to him. A second later, he fell.
Face first in mud, Lucien couldn’t breathe, literally. He strained his ears for a sound in the forest, yet he could only make out two things: the monster’s harsh breath and his own heartbeat. Even with Lucien on the ground, the monster didn’t move. It only sat there, dangling its head. For a moment, Lucien couldn’t help but stare at it. With how it hung its head, it looked like a normal person, and he expected that he was wrong and that, after all, it was just someone in the woods. "Hello?" Lucien got up, the mud still sticking to him. The thing looked up at him, and his doubt was answered: it still was a monster; it still had its freakish features.
As the monster steadily crawled back into the forest, Lucien realized why everything was so bright: he had returned to his town. He was standing at the forest’s entrance, where he could see the houses from afar.
