Farther back, theblack mask, deeper in shadow.
The one with the burlap sack is gone.
My stomach tightens. He was the biggest. The quietest.
He could be anywhere.
Ipick up the pace.
Turn left, then right. The paths all look the same. Every corner feels like it’s been watching me. The lights grow dimmer the deeper I go, and the fog gets thicker. I brush past a scarecrow slumped against a post and nearly jump out of my skin. It’s fake. Straw for guts and one eye missing.
I laugh under my breath, but it’s short and shaky.
Another crunch behind me.
Closer.
I whirl.
Nothing again.
No. Notnothing. There, just at the edge of the fog, I catch movement. A figure moving quickly, ducking behind the corn.
They're toying with me.
They’re not chasing. Not attacking. Just staying close and slowly surrounding me.
Stalking.
I should be terrified. Every logical part of me is screaming to find the exit, toget out, but something darker winds up inside me like a clock being set.
Because it’s not just fear I feel.
It’s thrill.
I’ve never been hunted before.
Never had three strangers circle me like I’m the most important thing in the world. Like I’m prey… A prize.
I turn another corner, faster now. My foot catches on a root, and I stumble forward, hands catching hard gravel. I curse, hiss through my teeth, and push myself back up.
But when I do—He's there.
The one with the burlap sack. He’s standing at the end of the path. Closer than before.
He made no sound. Gave me no warning. He’s justthere.
His head tilts again. Slow. Animal-like. Like he’s studying me to see how I bleed.
He takes one step forward. Just one.
I don’t move. My heart wants to run. My legs want to freeze. My mind wants to understand—whatisthis? A game? A trap?
A test?
The fog thickens between us, swallowing the path like a curtain being drawn.
And then he’s gone again. It was like he was never there at all.
