I died once, and the world that awaited me afterward was colder than death. It wasn't the kind of cold that bites the skin, but the kind that seeps quietly into your bones and refuses to leave. When I opened my eyes, the forest around me was completely silent. No insects buzzed in the dark. No wind moved the branches overhead. Even the leaves seemed afraid to rustle.
Only my footsteps disturbed the stillness as I walked, my breathing uneven and panicked in the quiet night. I had no idea where I was—or how I had come here. One moment there had been pain—the violent scream of metal, the screech of tires, and the copper taste of blood filling my mouth—and the next there had been trees, darkness, and a sky I did not recognize.
I kept walking because standing still felt too much like dying again. The cold air burned in my lungs as I moved deeper between the trees, trying to make sense of a world that felt both unfamiliar and terrifyingly real. Then I heard it.
A low growl drifted through the forest behind me.
My body froze before my mind understood what it meant. Slowly, I looked to the left, scanning the shadows between the trees. There was nothing there. I turned to the right. Still nothing. My heart pounded loudly in my ears, and for a moment I almost allowed myself to relax.
Then instinct screamed at me.
Behind you.
I didn't turn around. I ran.
Branches clawed at my clothes as I pushed through the forest, and thorns scratched across my arms. My lungs burned almost immediately, as if this body had never learned how to run while terrified. "I don't want to die," I muttered hoarsely under my breath. The words slipped out without thought. "Not again."
The growl came closer.
Something heavy moved through the underbrush with terrifying ease. It wasn't stalking carefully. It was chasing me, as if the darkness itself belonged to the creature pursuing me.
My foot caught on a root buried beneath damp leaves and moss, and I fell hard against the ground, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs. Before I could even push myself back up, a massive weight crashed down onto my back. Fangs tore into my flesh, and white-hot pain exploded behind my eyes. I had felt sharp metal pierce my body before, but this pain was different. This pain was alive.
My scream tore through the silent forest.
And something answered it.
A thunderous boom echoed between the trees as light ripped through the darkness. The crushing weight vanished instantly. I rolled onto my side, my vision spinning, and that was when I saw her.
A girl stood several meters away, holding a staff casually in one hand. Silver hair spilled from beneath a deep blue witch's hat, catching the faint light like threads of moonlight. Her robes, blue and white and trimmed in gold, moved softly in the night air as if the wind itself obeyed her presence. Her eyes were calm—far too calm for someone standing in front of a monster twice her size.
Several meters away, the creature that had attacked me struggled to stand. Smoke curled from its charred fur, but its red eyes still burned with life.
"…Are you alright?" she asked quietly.
Her voice held no panic, only quiet assessment.
More growls answered her question.
Shapes emerged from the darkness between the trees—creatures larger than wolves, with twisted limbs and matted fur. Their eyes glowed red in the night, not like animals but like something that understood hunger.
The girl's expression hardened slightly.
"…Nightbound Beasts," she said quietly.
The name sent a chill down my spine.
She lifted her staff again, the air around us tightening as faint light gathered at the tip.
"Run," she said calmly. "If you still want to live."
Light erupted from the tip of her staff, tearing through the darkness of the forest. For a brief moment the night itself seemed to split open.
The first beast was thrown backward by the blast. The second howled in pain as sparks of light burned across its fur.
The third one kept coming.
Magic.
Monsters.
A world that ran on rules I didn't understand.
And me—
Bleeding.
Useless.
I ran.
I left her there.
Left the girl who had just saved my life.
Coward.
The word followed me between the trees as I stumbled deeper into the forest. But fear ran faster than guilt.
I didn't look back.
Because I was afraid that if I saw her fall, I would remember another body lying there, unmoving, with no life left inside it. Another moment where I was too weak to move, unable to protect the person right in front of me.
The forest slowly began to thin.
And then I saw light.
A small house stood built into the side of a hill, warm yellow light spilling from its windows and onto the dark forest path.
Salvation.
I staggered toward it.
"Stop."
The voice was heavy enough to freeze my body mid-step.
An old man stood in the doorway.
His bald head was half-covered by a worn straw hat, and deep lines marked his face like old battle scars. His dark eyes studied me carefully, without the slightest hint of kindness.
In his hand was a short spear.
Steady.
Pointed directly at my heart.
"Don't come closer," he said flatly.
"P-please—" I gasped, struggling to breathe. "Something's chasing me—wolves—"
"Not wolves."
His reply came immediately, sharp and certain.
He stepped forward slightly, his nostrils flaring as if testing the air.
"Nightbound Beasts."
My stomach dropped.
"The smell's still on you."
The spear never lowered.
"Where did you come from?"
"I don't know."
"Don't lie."
"I'm not."
The words came out desperate, because they were the truth.
He circled slowly, his eyes falling on the wound on my back.
"Fresh bite."
Silence stretched between us.
"If I close this door," he said calmly, "you die."
"Yes."
There was no point pretending otherwise.
"Then why should I open it?"
The question cut deeper than the spear.
Why should anyone save me?
I swallowed hard.
"…Because I don't want to die."
My voice cracked.
"Not again."
His gaze sharpened.
For a moment he said nothing. The wind moved quietly through the trees behind me, carrying with it the distant rustle of something moving somewhere in the forest. The old man's eyes studied me in silence, weighing something I couldn't see.
Then he shifted his grip.
The spear moved—but not toward my chest.
Instead, he turned it and pushed the wooden shaft into my hand.
"Take it."
I blinked in confusion as the weapon pressed against my palm. The spear felt heavier than it looked, the rough wood cold against my fingers.
"If you survive tonight," the old man said calmly, "I'll let you inside."
My breath caught.
"W-wait—"
But he had already stepped backward.
The door shut.
THUD.
I heard the wooden bar fall into place from the inside.
Locked.
For a moment I simply stared at the door, unable to process what had just happened. Then panic surged through my chest.
"Wait!"
I rushed forward and slammed my fists against the wood.
"Please! Open the door!"
My voice cracked as I pounded harder against the thick planks.
"I'll die out here!"
The door didn't move.
"Please!"
I struck the wood again and again, desperation clawing its way up my throat.
"OPEN THE DOOR!"
Only silence answered me.
Cold.
Unforgiving.
Slowly, my hands dropped away from the door. My breathing shook as the truth settled in.
He meant it.
If I died tonight—
he wouldn't care.
Then I heard it.
A low rumble rolled through the forest behind me.
Grrrr—
My blood froze.
Another growl followed, closer this time.
Branches shifted in the darkness as heavy shapes moved between the trees. One by one, red eyes appeared in the shadows.
One.
Two.
Three.
The Nightbound Beasts had followed my scent.
My grip tightened around the spear, the wooden shaft trembling slightly in my hand.
Run.
The word exploded through my mind.
Without thinking, I turned and ran.
The house disappeared behind me as I plunged back into the dark forest, the spear clutched tightly in my hands. Behind me the growls grew louder, the creatures crashing through the underbrush as they chased.
Then one of them howled.
The sound echoed through the forest.
More answers came from deeper in the dark.
And the hunt began again.