When the Hunt Begins

Previously

…As we walked away from the park, I glanced back one last time. The trees stood tall and silent, their branches reaching towards the darkening sky. They looked deceptively peaceful, but I knew better. I knew that beneath that serene facade, something ancient and hungry still resided, forever bound to the shadows, forever waiting. The hunt had ended, but the unease, the lingering fear, would remain with us, a constant companion, a chilling reminder of the day the woods decided to play. And I knew, with a certainty that settled deep in my bones, that a part of us would always be lost in those woods, forever listening for the whispers in the dark.