When the Hunt Begins

Previously

…As we slowly, shakily, began to make our way across the field, the setting sun painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were still being watched. The woods, silent and dark behind us, held its secrets close, and I suspected, with a shiver, that they were not secrets that would stay buried forever. The hunt had ended, for now, but the hunter was still out there, waiting.