Crunch
A twig snapped underneath Elias's foot.
Elias froze. The rabbit's ears twitched.
The black-horned rabbit stopped to sniff the air, searching for food and scouting for predators. Elias watched, motionless, cursing himself.
Damn it, Elias! Dad would've smacked you for a rookie mistake like that.
Slowly, he crept through the bushes toward the horned rabbit. Its fuzzy, snow-white fur, beady black eyes, and dark horn made it easy to spot against the green underbrush.
Elias carefully watched the creature hop along the dirt path. He studied its movements, attempting to predict its patterns, his eyes filled with determination and confidence.
He waited patiently for the rabbit to stop. A moment too soon, and it would dart into the forest; a moment too late, and its razor-sharp horn could slice him open.
Time seemed to slow for Elias as he waited—what felt like hours—for the rabbit to stop.
Come on~! Stupid rabbit. Stop already!
He clenched his sickle. He was growing impatient, though he knew what was at stake if he struck too soon—something he dreaded more than anything.
No dinner.
His muscles tensed without thought as he crept forward, like his body already knew it would stop soon. Each step was calculated, deliberate. His eyes locked ahead.
Finally, the rabbit stopped, grazing on the grass beneath its feet. Elias, without a moment wasted, launched himself out of the bushes and slung his sickle forward with deadly precision.
"I got it!"
However, the rabbit wouldn't be an easy kill. It dashed away, narrowly avoiding the tip of Elias's blade—though not fully.
Carried by his momentum, Elias tumbled end over end, crashing into a tree upside down. The impact rattled his brain, leaving him dizzy. He watched the rabbit hop away, leaving behind a trail of black blood.
"Of course…" he groaned.
Knowing there wasn't much time, he scrambled to his feet, dusted himself off, and followed the trail.
He tracked the blood closely, dragging his feet through the mud. Gripping on the sickle tightly.
"Misha would've caught ten rabbits by now…" he muttered, kicking a rock that skittered into the underbrush. "Draven would've slain a wolf."
He clicked his tongue. "And I can't even deal with a stupid rabbit."
He let out a deep sigh, slumped his shoulders, and knelt. "Why should I be the one to hunt today? Those two are more than qualified to do this."
He peered through the gaps in the bushes, hoping the wounded rabbit had stopped in a clearing. The earthy scent of crushed leaves filled his nose.
"What an eighteenth birthday this is…" he sulked, rising to his feet once more.
Descending deeper into the forest, the rabbit's black blood became harder to follow, the sun had set, and he still hadn't even heard the rabbit.
Eventually, he stopped walking.
"Great. Just—great. No rabbit, and now I'm lost." He spun around, trying to make sense of where he was.
He sighed. You've really done it this time, Elias…
Once more, he spun, deciding on which direction to go. "Just pick a direction and move…"
As he decided, something caught his eye and made him freeze. It was something wooden—tangled in roots and leaves, nearly swallowed by the forest.
It was old, and overgrown, he could barely see what it said, but few words were clear, they read: "Beyond this point, a dead man walks."
What's that supposed to mean…?
Snap! Crunch.
Distant disturbances startled Elias and made him jolt. His eyes darted around to see what made the noise—but there was nothing.
Snap!
Again, a twig snapped, this time in a different direction. Elias clenched his sickle and slowly raised his guard, carefully approaching the source of the sound. He wanted to run—to go home and tell his mom he couldn't catch it.
Yet he stayed. He needed to. If he couldn't catch a single rabbit, what would that make him? Useless? Weak?
His heart slammed against his chest. Fear gnawed at him and his body screamed to run—but he ignored it. If it meant proving himself, then he would look even death in the eyes.
Slowly, he peered through the bushes, his eyes darting between shadows, searching for whatever made that sound.
There it is!
The rabbit he'd been searching for was limping, slowly dragging itself through the clearing. However, something was off—it had a large gash across its back, leaving a streak of black blood on its white fur, but that wouldn't deter him.
This time, he could finally prove himself—to his family, that he was capable. He readied his sickle and prepared to strike. This time, he wouldn't miss.
He took a step and froze. His legs trembled, eyes locked onto the shadows, and his mouth glued shut. Any sound he made could cost him his life.
The bushes parted, and the dark behemoth revealed itself—forming from the shadows like a nightmare given form. A beast unlike anything he had ever seen. It walked on four legs, with sleek black fur as dark as coal, muscles bulging beneath like living shadows. Four tails whipped behind it, each moving with a mind of its own. Two red eyes instilled fear into anything they looked at.
As it moved closer to the rabbit, its talon-like claws extended. It was going to attack.
It let out a growl—one so deep it gutted him. Every instinct screamed for him to move, but his body was frozen. His blood ran cold as fear gave way to despair. This was it—the day he'd meet his end without ever raising his blade
"W…what is that…?" He didn't dare speak aloud. The catlike creature had sharp ears that could detect even the slightest movement. Thankfully, it hadn't noticed him—the rabbit had captured its cold, merciless attention.
His breathing became unsteady. His hands trembled. His skin turned pale. He racked his brain, eyes darting frantically, thinking of ways to escape without getting hurt.
If I try to attack, I'll die. If I run, it'll catch me. Maybe I can make a distraction before it kills the rabbit… yeah… yeah, that could work. But… something's wrong. We've been standing here for three minutes, and neither the rabbit nor that monster has moved…
Cold beads of sweat ran down his temple. The putrid stench of blood made it hard to breathe. He helplessly watched as the beast prowled. The rabbit remained motionless—it had died from fear.
Then a thought struck Elias, making his heart beat like a drum
Does it… know I'm here?
The beast slowly lifted its head and sniffed the air. It was searching for something. Elias had to move quickly; if he hesitated for even a moment, he would surely meet his end. He carefully picked up the nearest rock and threw it into the foliage.
For a moment, the beast snapped its head in the direction of the sound, its ears perked up—alert.
Without wasting a breath, Elias's body moved on its own, sprinting in the opposite direction. He didn't know where he was running, but it didn't matter. He wanted—no, needed—to escape
His body guided him through the forest. Branches whipped his face; roots clawed at his feet. He didn't stop—until he was forced to. His foot caught on a sharp root. Blood. But he couldn't stop. It could catch up any time. He had to get as far away as possible.
He bolted to his feet and ran. Each step sent a dull pain lancing through his leg. Even though he moved, he didn't know where he was going—only that it wasn't fast enough. It wasn't until he saw the familiar clearing that he realized where he was headed.
Home.
"No… no, no, no…" he muttered.
Adrenaline surged through him as he limped to the door, every step heavier than the last. All of the lights were off.
"They must've gone looking for me…"
He pushed the door open, slamming it shut behind him. Breath ragged, he slumped against the wall, his trembling hand searching—
Click.
"Surprise! Oh…"
The room fell silent. This wasn't the sight they were expecting.
Elias flinched, staring back at their shocked faces.
"Well… did you get the rabbit?" Draven asked.
Elias froze. The rabbit? He had forgotten why he went out in the first place. Oh, right! The rabbit!
"No… but—" he started, but his sister cut him off with a smile.
"It's okay~! You didn't have to catch it. We just sent you away to prepare for this!" The small group stepped aside, revealing two round tables overflowing with food—roasted meat, steaming bread, candles flickering beside a small cake.
The smell hit him all at once—sweet, warm, home.
His grip loosened, breathing calmed, and knees nearly gave out. For the first time, he felt at peace.
"Wow… you guys… thank you. I—"
"Come on! Let's get you cleaned up," Misha said with a gleeful grin, ducking under his arm. Her long black braids whipped him in the face.
"Gee, thanks," he muttered, rolling his eyes.
He sank into a wooden chair, letting his head fall back. The adrenaline wore off, and the pain seeped in—sharp. He gritted his teeth to endure it.
His mother knelt in front of him, gently placing her hands on his wound. Her touch was soft. Warmth spread through his ankle, glowing faintly as bandages formed around it. He never understood how she did that—it wasn't quite magic, at least not the kind he read about. He began to ask, but was too weak to lift his head.
"I'm proud of you, Elias," she said softly. The words left her mouth like a warm blanket wrapping him whole. They meant more to Elias than a hundred rabbits ever could. "You went this far just to get us a single rabbit? My little marshmallow's all grown up now…"
"Mom…" he chuckled, wincing through the pain. "I told you about that nickname. I'm not a baby anymore!"
She laughed—full and bright. For a second, it almost drowned out the ache.
"Wow, Elias," she said after a pause. "This gash is pretty deep. How'd you get it, anyway?"
"Actually, I—" He paused, snapping his head upright.
"Elias?"
A memory flickered: the red eyes, the despair, the bleeding rabbit. That sound. It all came flooding back.
Snap.
"What's wrong?"
He opened his mouth to speak, but then—
Grrrr….