Wei sprang to his feet without warning, his eyes locking onto the dark forest ahead.
Dusk had fallen faster than expected. The last traces of daylight were being swallowed by overlapping shadows, layers of branches and leaves folding into one another like closing jaws. The forest looked alive in a way that made the skin crawl, as if it were quietly breathing, waiting.
Wei couldn't explain it, but something felt wrong.
Not a sound.
Not a movement he could clearly point to.
And yet—he was certain that something was standing in the shadows, watching them.
The feeling crawled up his spine, sharp and persistent.
It was like a hand resting just between his shoulder blades.
"Wei… what are you looking at?"
Chun's voice trembled despite her attempt to sound calm.
Anyone who had just walked a breath away from death, who had felt teeth meant to tear flesh, would be shaken. She held her arms close without realizing it.
"It's probably nothing," Wei said quietly.
Her breath caught."A wolf pack?"
They had grown up near these woods. They knew how wolves hunted.
There was always a pattern—
scouts watching from a distance,
bait drawing prey forward,
shadows flanking from the sides, and the final strike delivered without mercy.
But tonight, something didn't fit.
The wolf they had just faced had been alone.
A lone ambusher—
no backup, no coordination.
That wasn't normal.
"I think it's much bigger than a wolf," Wei said after a moment.
He reached down and pulled his hunting knife from the dead wolf's skull. The blade slid free with a soft, wet sound. The handle was wrapped in rough hemp cord, thick and coarse against his palm. The familiar texture grounded him, offering a fragile sense of control.
Chun didn't ask any more questions.
She stood stiffly, almost mechanically, and lifted the basket filled with dry firewood, holding it in front of her chest like a shield—thin, fragile, and utterly useless, but better than nothing.
They held their breath.
The wind stirred the leaves above them. Branches whispered against one another. Shadows shifted.
Nothing stepped out.
Seconds stretched. Then minutes. The silence grew so long it began to feel unreal, as if time itself had slowed just to test their nerves.
Wei's heart pounded harder. A part of him began to doubt himself. Maybe he was imagining things. Maybe the fear from the fight hadn't drained yet, and his senses were lying to him.
Far away, a night bird let out a short, sharp cry.
Then silence again.
"…Maybe you heard it wrong?" Chun whispered. Her voice was so soft it barely reached him.
The strange pressure in Wei's chest slowly eased. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and scanned the forest once more.
"…Maybe," he said at last."Could be some animal spotted me and ran off."
Chun's shoulders loosened slightly.
"Wei," she muttered, trying to sound annoyed,"your bragging knows no limits."
Heat crept up behind his ears. Wei sheathed the knife and quickly changed the subject.
"Didn't that lone wolf feel strange to you?" he said."Like it was charging in desperation. Almost like… we were blocking its way."
Chun understood immediately. The thought alone made a shiver run through her.
"Wei… we should head back. It's getting hard to see."
"Yeah. Let's go."
"Wait—
let me light the torch."
Wei watched her fumble with the flint, her hands unsteady. He said nothing, just struck the spark himself and lit the torch. The flame flared, weak but steady, pushing back a small circle of darkness.
Together, they started down the slope, entering the forest once more.
As if to steady herself, Chun pressed close to Wei's side. Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"Wei… when do you think a lone wolf would risk attacking something much bigger than itself?"
Wei frowned slightly, but his feet never slowed.
"Maybe… when it thinks the prey is stupid," he said after a pause."Easy to take down."
"You're the stupid one," Chun snapped back instantly, realizing his teasing a heartbeat too late.
She gave his shoulder a few light punches. Wei only laughed and picked up the pace.
"Or maybe," she continued, her voice tense again,"a larger beast chased it out of its territory. Maybe it was starving."
"That's possible," Wei said, eyes fixed on the dark path ahead.
"…What kind of beast do you think it was?" she asked.
Wei shook his head."Doesn't matter."
He had no interest in chasing shadows inside his own mind.
They were halfway down the path when Wei suddenly slowed.
He lifted his head slightly and wrinkled his nose.
"Wei…?" Chun asked."What is it?"
"Do you smell that?"
She stopped and inhaled cautiously.
At first, it was faint. Then unmistakable.
Something burned.
Not wood. Not food.
Wei frowned."That doesn't smell like cooking. And it's not clay kilns either."
Chun stepped closer, trying to pinpoint the source. The smell was drifting from the direction of the village.
"…There's something sour in it," she said, her voice shaking."Something rotten."
"Maybe someone's goat shed caught fire again," she said slowly, uncertainly—more to comfort herself than him.
Wei could hear the emptiness beneath her words.
He sniffed the air again, harder this time. His expression darkened.
"That doesn't make sense," he said."At this hour, everyone should still be up. And even if there was a fire, it wouldn't smell like this."
Chun's face drained of color.
"I've heard the elders say…" she stammered."That when certain beasts appear… they carry a strong, sour stench."
They moved on, more carefully now.
The closer they got to the village, the stronger the smell became—sharp, choking, almost enough to make Chun gag.
Then something else felt wrong.
The light ahead wasn't right.
It wasn't firelight.
It wasn't smoke.
Instead, it was an unnatural darkness, a hollow blackness spreading silently over the village entrance, like a bottomless pit swallowing everything in its path.
Wei grabbed Chun's arm as she instinctively tried to run forward.
"No," he whispered sharply."Something's wrong. Even the campfires are gone. Stay behind me."
The world ahead felt dead.
No birds.
No insects.
Not even the faint, familiar sounds of village life—the clatter, the coughs, the murmurs that never truly stopped.
"But look," Chun said weakly, pointing."The torches at the gate are still lit."
The flames flickered, dim and tired, barely holding on.
Wei's unease swelled into something heavier.
They were at the village entrance now.
This was where his father always waited.
Every time Wei returned from hunting, there would be that tall, familiar figure standing there early, arms crossed, pretending not to worry.
Wei had complained about it before—about being treated like a child.
His father would only smile and say nothing.
And yet… he was always there.
This time, there was no one.
Only the torches.
The wooden gate stood open.
No—
It wasn't open.
It was gone.
Wei spotted it in the grass nearby.
The broken gate lay twisted and shattered, massive claw marks torn through the wood, as if a giant beast had ripped it apart when it stood in the way.
Chun's fingers dug into Wei's arm.
"Could it be… one of those things from the mountains?" she whispered."The elders say some beasts… clear out entire territories."
Darkness pooled at the village entrance.
The flickering firelight only made the shadows heavier, thicker—like countless unseen eyes watching their every move.