The rain fell with fury, hammering the cobblestones as if the sky itself were collapsing onto the earth. Night had descended with an unusually dense darkness, covering the small town's streets in a nearly tangible veil. The streetlamps sputtered, struggling to maintain their flickering glow.
Helena stepped out through the back door of the bakery, hastily locking it behind her. Closing time had been delayed; a storm long forecasted had finally erupted just as she turned off the ovens for the last time. She wore a flour-stained apron, her hair tied up in a messy bun, a backpack slung over one shoulder. The street was empty—or so it seemed. But she hadn't taken more than three steps when she felt it.
A presence.
Something.
Someone.
She couldn't see it, but she felt it. A prickling at the nape of her neck, an involuntary shiver running down her spine. She turned her head quickly. Nothing. Only shadows within shadows. And yet, her heart had already begun to race.
She quickened her pace.
Water splashed beneath her feet as mud clung to her shoes. The air was cold and damp, but beads of nervous sweat were already forming on her brow. It wasn't just paranoia; she'd heard something beyond the thunder and rain. Footsteps. Faint at first. Then closer.
Helena turned again. She saw nothing… but this time, she heard it clearly. The unmistakable sound of someone—or something—advancing behind her.
Adrenaline exploded through her veins.
She ran.
The town was gone within minutes. She hadn't thought, hadn't planned—there had been no time. The shadowy figure kept pace, invisible between the lightning flashes, but undeniably real. Every second counted.
She didn't stop. She threw herself into the forest like a wounded animal, tripping over hidden roots and slipping more than once in the slick mud. Branches clawed at her clothes, her skin, her hair—as if the forest itself wished to trap her. Rain poured down her face as though the entire woods were weeping with her.
She slipped down a slope, fell to her knees, pushed herself up with effort, gasping for breath. Her lungs burned, her throat tasted of metal and fear. The storm drummed relentlessly above her, but the footsteps were still there… closer.
She kept running.
The mud took her down again, this time slamming her hand against a jagged rock, but she didn't stop. The forest had become a cold, wet labyrinth. She no longer knew where she was or how deep she had gone—only that she had to keep going.
And then...
Silence.
The footsteps ceased.
Everything stilled, save for the endless beating of the rain.
Only then did Helena stop.
Her whole body trembled, soaked clothes clinging to her skin like a second layer. She hadn't noticed the tears until they mixed with the rain. She looked around, barely seeing through the mist and shadows. The moon, hidden behind thick clouds, cast only the faintest light upon the world.
She was alone.
Or so she thought.
She bent forward, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. Her breathing came in ragged gasps, as if her very soul were protesting all she had done just to stay alive.
"Damn it…" she whispered.
That's when she felt it.
A pair of hands.
Cold. Firm. All too real.
Grabbing her from behind with force.
Her scream died in her throat as she was slammed to the ground. She never saw the face of whoever held her. Only a flash of something pale, like bone or ash, and a pair of dark eyes that reflected no light at all.
She screamed.
Her legs struck roots and stones, her body twisting with all the desperate instinct for survival she had left.
She fought with every ounce of strength. Kicked. Elbowed. A knee. Wild blows. Until something finally struck true and a low growl erupted from her attacker.
Then...
They both fell.
There was a steep slope hidden behind a curtain of undergrowth. The ground gave way beneath them as if the forest itself had opened its jaws, and they rolled—tangled in mud, branches, and darkness.
The world spun wildly around her. A dull thud. A flash of white behind her eyes.
Her head hit a rock at the bottom of the fall.
And then…
Nothing.
Silence.
Darkness.