Chapter 1
The room stank of sweat and blood, the air thick enough to choke on. Papers were scattered across the floor, a chair lay overturned in the corner, and I could hear my own ragged breathing. My fists pounded against the wooden door, each blow sending a jolt of pain up my arms.
“Help!” I screamed, desperation cracking my voice. “Is anybody out there? Please!”
A voice answered from the other side, sharp and venomous. “You’re not going anywhere, Selene. Open the door, or I swear, I’ll—”
I didn’t wait for him to finish. My fist slammed against the door again, harder this time. The impact shot through my body, and I staggered back, gasping for air. My eyes darted to the small window in the far wall, my only hope.
I ran to it, fingers fumbling at the rusted latch. It wouldn’t budge. Years of neglect had sealed it shut, but I refused to stop. My hands burned as the metal dug into my skin, the sharp edge slicing into my palm. Blood smeared the frame, but finally, with one last desperate shove, the latch broke free.
“Selene!” his voice roared from behind the door, louder now, filled with venomous satisfaction. He knew I was trapped—or at least he thought so.
The wood began to splinter under his fists, sharp cracks echoing in the suffocating room.
My pulse thundered in my ears as I hauled myself through the narrow opening. The glass bit into my shoulders, tearing my skin. I hissed in pain, but there was no time to stop, no time to care. Blood smeared the sill as I pulled myself free, falling hard onto the frozen ground below.
The cold bit into me immediately, a brutal slap to my senses, but I didn’t slow down. I scrambled to my feet and ran, the icy air burning my lungs.
“Come back here!” his voice bellowed behind me, echoing off the walls of the alley.
I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. My legs pounded against the pavement, the dim lights of the city blurring into streaks of yellow and white as I ran faster. My heart felt like it would explode, the sound of my own pulse drowning out everything else.
The night was freezing, each breath a sharp, stinging reminder that I couldn’t stop. Not now. Not ever.
……..
Many years later, I sat at the rickety table in my tiny, suffocating apartment, my eyes fixed on the scar running across my hand. It stretched from my palm to my wrist—a thick, crooked line that refused to fade no matter how much time passed. A permanent reminder of the night I lost everything, the night I abandoned who I used to be.
I rubbed it absently with my thumb, the rough texture of the skin grounding me in memories I didn’t want to revisit. My thoughts drifted far away, to places I hadn’t allowed myself to linger in years.
“Everything okay?”
Clara’s voice startled me, pulling me back into the present. I glanced up to see her leaning in the doorway, her hands firmly on her hips. The smell of burnt toast wafted in from her apartment, as it always did.
“I’m okay,” I said, forcing a small smile to soften the lie.
“You don’t look okay, though,” Clara shot back, crossing her arms. “When was the last time you slept?”
I sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m fine, Clara. Just… sorting things out.”
Her gaze slid past me, landing on the half-packed bag sitting on my bed. The contents barely filled it, yet it felt heavier than anything I’d ever carried.
“I see,” she said, her voice quieter now. “You’re really going this time, aren’t you?”
I nodded. “I need a new beginning.”
Clara frowned, her brows knitting together in confusion. “A new beginning? Where to? Selene, you’ve been running since the day I met you.”
Her words hit harder than I wanted to admit, and my jaw clenched. “It’s not running,” I said through gritted teeth. “It’s living.”
I expected her to argue—she always did—but this time, she just stood there for a moment, studying me with an expression I couldn’t quite place. Then, she sighed and stepped back into the corridor.
“Just… take care of yourself, okay?”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I simply got up and shut the door behind her.
For a moment, I stood there, leaning against the door as though it could hold me up. My eyes closed, and I let out a slow, shaky breath.
I wasn’t meant to live like this—always looking over my shoulder, staying in one place just long enough to grow restless or afraid, and then packing up to leave again. But whether I wanted it or not, this was my life now.
Running wasn’t survival. It was existence. Barely. And yet, it was the only existence I had.
=
The trip out of the city was uneventful, the hum of the car engine and the occasional crackle of the radio my only companions.
“…several residents reported missing near Blackwood Forest… authorities suspect wild animals…”
I reached out and switched the radio off, my fingers trembling against the dial. The silence that followed was deafening, but I didn’t want to hear any more. I couldn’t.
My eyes darted to the rearview mirror, scanning the empty road behind me as if the past might be chasing me, hidden in the shadows. I exhaled a shaky breath, trying to calm the tightness in my chest.
“You’re okay,” I whispered to myself, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. “Everything is behind you. He’s not there.”
But the words felt hollow, like a lie I couldn’t even convince myself to believe.
The road grew darker as towering trees closed in, their canopies weaving a suffocating dusk. The car sputtered, jolting me forward in my seat.
“No. No, no, no,” I muttered, my eyes darting to the fuel gauge. Empty.
The engine coughed one last time before giving out completely. I cursed under my breath, steering the powerless car to the side of the road.
Dropping my head against the steering wheel, I let out a frustrated groan. “Perfect. Just perfect.”
I fumbled in the glove box for the flashlight, its cold metal handle slippery in my sweaty hand. Stepping out of the car, the chill of the night air hit me like a slap. It seeped through my jacket, biting at my skin.
The beam of the flashlight was dim, barely cutting through the darkness as I stood on the shoulder of the road. I glanced up at the imposing woods, the shadows within shifting like restless phantoms.
“Lovely,” I muttered, forcing myself to step forward.
The quiet was oppressive, the kind of silence that pressed against your ears and made you hyper-aware of every sound. My boots scraped against the gravel, the noise sharp and grating in the stillness.
A sudden crack of a branch froze me in place. My heart leapt into my throat as I swung the flashlight toward the sound, but its weak beam revealed nothing but shifting shadows.
“Hello?” I called out, my voice barely louder than a whisper.
Nothing answered.
I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to breathe. My legs moved faster now, driven by the primal need to get away from whatever might be lurking in the dark.
Then I saw them—footprints. Massive, clawed impressions in the dirt that didn’t look like they belonged to any animal I’d ever seen. My pulse quickened, fear tightening its grip around my chest.
Another sound—a low, guttural snarl—rumbled from behind me.
I spun around, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. “Who’s there?” I shouted, my voice cracking.
The flashlight flickered, then died, plunging me into complete darkness.
“No, no, no,” I whimpered, shaking the useless thing in desperation.
Heavy steps crunched through the underbrush, growing louder, closer. Panic overtook me, and I ran, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
I didn’t see the snare until it was too late.
The sharp snap of metal teeth clamping around my ankle sent searing pain shooting up my leg. I screamed, collapsing to the ground as tears blurred my vision.
“Help me! Somebody, please!” I yelled, clawing at the trap with trembling hands. Blood coated my fingers as I struggled, but the metal wouldn’t budge.
The forest seemed to hold its breath, the silence pressing down on me like a weight. Then it came—a roar so deep and primal it shook the very earth beneath me.
I froze, my breath hitching.
Two glowing yellow eyes emerged from the darkness, unblinking and fixed on me. The beast’s heavy, wheezing breaths filled the air, louder than my own frantic heartbeat.
It stepped closer, its massive shadow swallowing me whole. Its fur was thick and dark, its claws gleaming in the faint moonlight.
“Stay back!” I screamed, my voice trembling as I held up a hand, though I knew it was useless.
The creature paused, tilting its head as if it understood me. For a moment, I dared to hope, dared to believe it might leave me alone.
But then it growled—a low, rumbling sound that sent chills racing down my spine—and took another step forward.
Tears streamed down my face as my hands worked frantically on the trap, my blood-slick fingers slipping against the cold metal.
“Please,” I whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of my heart.
The beast didn’t move, its piercing eyes locked onto mine.
For a fleeting second, I thought it might spare me. But then, with deliberate intent, it pushed closer, its breath hot and foul against my skin.
I was out of time.
