Samuel was running out of energy, and with it, any remaining freedom to express his emotions.
He lay down on his back and stared through the gap between the leaves of the trees up at the sky.
He gazed into the vastness of the cosmos, as if it could answer his questions.
He ignored the insects that crawled onto his body, as well as the pain from his now uncountable wounds.
He let the cold of the night sky wash over him completely. No wind was blowing, yet a constant shiver ran across his skin.
???: "It's never the external injuries that hurt the most. Isn't that right, Samuel?"
He had stared so deeply into the void that it had completely swallowed him. His eyes grew heavier and heavier until they finally closed.
He felt warmth sweep across his face, as if it were an old friend. He enjoyed it for a few seconds, until a sharp pain forced his eyes open. His face twisted in agony, his soul screaming for peace.
He sat up and took in his surroundings.
Full of rage, he grabbed a stone and hurled it as hard as he could against the nearest tree.
The trees were thin, yet their crowns were dense with leaves and stretched far overhead. Above him, a sky of red and green foliage formed, interrupted by cracks through which light fell — cracks in this false sky.
Samuel stood up and wandered through the area expressionlessly. Without direction, he searched for something that seemed far away. He had only one thing in mind — a way home.
This forest feels endless. I could swear I've seen that tree three times already.
The pain from his injuries robbed him of clarity. He nearly fell with every step, yet his will kept him moving — until willpower alone was no longer enough. He sat down against a tree.
His vision was blurred, but just before the adrenaline faded, his eye caught a strange strip of fabric hanging from the bark.
His strength was gone. He finally lost consciousness again.
Samuel did not wake suddenly. It was a slow return, as if something reluctantly dragged him back to the surface. His body felt heavy. Each breath was shallow, as if even the air had weight. The forest floor beneath him was cold and damp, but that was not the first thing he noticed. The air was different. Denser. He opened his eyes. A grey veil hung between the trees. Fog. Not the light morning mist, but something thick that stood between the trunks as if it had settled there permanently. Samuel sat up. His vision was blurred, but something moved within it. Subtle. Barely visible. Only when he raised his hand did he notice it. Threads. Thin, shimmering threads drifted through the air. Some caught on his fingers, sticking briefly before slipping free again. He pulled his hand back. Slowly he stood. His body immediately protested. Pain shot through his legs, his side, his back. Yet he remained standing. Unsteady, but upright. He looked around. Trees. Only trees everywhere. Identical. Still. Too still.
I need to get out of here.
His voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper. He began to walk. Every step cost strength. The ground was uneven, roots reaching out like hands trying to hold him back. The fog stole his sight, the threads clung to his face. He wiped them away. He kept going. Time lost meaning. Steps became repetition. Breathe. Walk. Fall. Stand up.
Samuel suddenly stopped.
It had not been a conscious decision. His body reacted before his mind understood why. In the middle of the next step, every fiber in him tightened. His breath caught. The hand that had just been supporting him against a trunk clutched the rough bark harder.
Something had moved.
Not in front of him.
Behind him.
Slowly he turned his head.
The fog hung heavily between the trees. It felt almost solid, as if it could be touched. The little light that pierced through the massive canopy was lost long before it reached the ground. Above him, red and green leaves merged into an impenetrable roof, casting the world below into eternal twilight.
Samuel saw nothing.
Only trunks.
Only fog.
Only darkness.
And yet the feeling did not disappear.
It sat deep inside him.
That ancient knowledge humans had possessed long before any language existed.
Something is watching you.
A faint scratching cut through the silence.
Samuel flinched.
The sound had been barely audible. Just a brief scrape across wood. Maybe a branch. Maybe an animal.
Maybe.
His heart did not believe it.
The sound had awakened something in him.
Something he desperately tried to suppress.
Suddenly, the forest was no longer there.
For a moment, he saw his friends in front of him.
Not the friends he had laughed with.
Not the ones who always had a stupid joke ready.
But the friends in their final seconds.
The fear in their eyes.
The blood.
The helplessness.
Samuel remembered how they had screamed. How Antony's legs had given out. How he had watched.
A painful pressure spread through his chest.
He closed his eyes.
Just for a moment.
When he opened them again, the forest was back.
But the memory remained.
It had never truly left.
Every step since that day had been accompanied by it.
Every breath.
Every thought.
The fog in front of him shifted.
Samuel blinked.
No.
Not the fog.
Something inside it.
A pale shape between two trunks.
Too far away to see clearly.
Too close to ignore.
He stood motionless.
Samuel as well.
Seconds passed.
Perhaps longer.
Then the shape disappeared again behind a thick wall of mist.
Samuel waited.
Nothing happened.
He heard his own heartbeat.
His breathing.
The trembling of his muscles.
Nothing else.
"You're imagining it," he whispered.
His voice sounded foreign.
Dry.
Weak.
The words did not convince even himself.
He forced himself to keep walking.
One step.
Another.
Then another.
The ground was uneven. Roots jutted from the earth like bones. He nearly stumbled several times. His legs felt as if they belonged to someone else.
For hours he had been moving only out of habit.
Not because his body was capable of it.
But because stopping felt worse.
The scratching sound returned.
Closer this time.
Samuel stopped again.
His breathing quickened.
He turned around.
Nothing.
The fog swallowed every form.
Every shadow.
Every movement.
Suddenly he became aware of how silent the forest was.
No birds.
No insects.
No animals.
Nothing.
Only him.
And the sound.
A cold shiver ran down his back.
The silence reminded him of the day Antony and Tyron had died.
Back then too, there had been a moment when everything suddenly went quiet.
No voices.
No laughter.
No rustling.
Only fear.
He remembered Tyron's voice.
Her scream.
The thought hit him so suddenly he felt nauseous.
He stopped and bent forward.
His hands rested on his knees.
He tried to breathe.
Slowly.
Controlled.
But his thoughts no longer obeyed him.
Again and again he saw their faces.
The same images.
The same helplessness.
What should I have done?
That question had followed him ever since.
Every day.
Every night.
He had no answer.
Only guilt.
Endless guilt.
A crack made him snap upright.
This time it was unmistakable.
Not imagination.
Not memory.
Not trauma.
Something was there.
Somewhere between the trees.
Samuel slowly straightened.
His hand reached for a thick branch he had picked up along the way.
It was not a real weapon.
Just a piece of wood.
But it gave him at least the feeling of not being completely defenseless.
Something moved again in the fog.
Too fast.
When Samuel turned his head toward it, nothing was there anymore.
His heart was now racing so fast he felt dizzy.
He had to get out.
Now.
He began to walk faster.
After a few minutes his legs hurt so badly that every step was an effort.
His injuries had never been allowed to heal.
Every muscle protested.
His ribs burned.
His shoulders felt as if weights were hanging from them.
Still he forced himself onward.
Then he suddenly stopped.
In front of him was a notch.
Angled.
Irregular.
At eye level.
Samuel stared at it. His stomach tightened. He knew this notch. He had made it himself. Hours ago.
Maybe.
Maybe yesterday. He did not know.
Slowly he raised his hand and touched the bark.
The indentation was real.
Not imagined.
Not mistaken.
He had caused it himself.
Samuel felt his stomach twist.
He had been walking in circles.
His gaze drifted through the fog.
Everywhere the same trunks.
The same shadows.
The same endless twilight.
For a moment he stood still.
Then panic began.
Not suddenly.
Not like a strike.
It crept through his body.
Filled his chest.
His throat.
His thoughts.
He no longer knew where he had come from.
Or where he needed to go.
The scratching returned.
Closer than before.
Samuel spun around.
Nothing.
Only fog.
But this time he thought he saw it more clearly.
A darker patch between the trees.
Something that had not been there before.
Something watching him.
His fingers tightened around the branch.
He stepped backward.
Then another step.
The scratching followed.
Slow.
Patient.
As if it had all the time in the world.
Samuel turned and walked faster.
His legs immediately protested.
Every muscle burned.
His ribs hurt with every breath.
Still he forced himself onward.
The sound stayed behind him.
Sometimes closer.
Sometimes farther away.
Never gone.
Always there.
Then he suddenly heard a voice.
"Samuel."
He stopped.
His heart skipped a beat.
The voice was quiet.
Almost lost among the trees.
He spun around.
No one.
Of course not.
They were dead.
Samuel pressed his lips together and kept walking.
Exhaustion.
Nothing more.
The scratching grew louder.
Somewhere behind him a branch snapped.
Then the voice came again.
"Left."
Samuel froze.
He stared into the fog.
"No," he whispered.
His mouth was dry.
His hands trembled.
This was not real.
It could not be real.
Behind him, a dull crack echoed.
Much closer this time.
Samuel flinched and instinctively stepped left.
The scratching stopped for a moment.
Only for a moment.
Then it resumed.
Farther away.
Samuel noticed it immediately.
His breath caught.
Coincidence.
It had to be coincidence.
He kept walking.
Faster now.
The voice stayed silent.
Minutes passed.
Or hours.
He no longer knew.
The forest seemed endless.
Again and again he thought he saw movement in the fog.
Again and again he heard the scratching.
And each time it came closer.
Until the voice spoke again.
"Not there."
Samuel stopped.
In front of him lay a hollow between the trees.
Dark.
Completely swallowed by fog.
He did not know why.
But something about it made him shiver.
Slowly he changed direction.
Barely had he done so when a sound came from the hollow.
Deep.
Foreign.
As if something down there had been waiting for him.
Samuel's stomach tightened.
He forced himself onward.
Further and further through the forest.
Closer and closer to his limits.
Eventually his legs began to give out.
Every step was an effort.
His vision blurred.
The fog in front of him seemed to move.
Several times he thought he saw someone between the trees.
Each time there was nothing.
Then the scratching suddenly accelerated.
No longer slow.
No longer patient.
It was coming closer.
Faster.
More direct.
Samuel looked over his shoulder.
For the first time he saw more than a shadow.
Something was moving between the trunks.
Far too large.
Far too long.
The fog clung to it.
As if the darkness itself was walking.
Panic overwhelmed him.
He ran.
Or tried to.
His legs barely obeyed.
Branches struck his face.
Roots grabbed at his feet.
The scratching raced behind him.
Closer.
Closer.
Then he heard the voice one last time.
Clearer than before.
"Run."
Samuel stumbled forward.
The ground beneath him gave way.
He had not seen the slope.
Hidden by leaves.
Covered by fog.
With a scream he fell into the depths.
Branches snapped.
Stones tore at his clothes.
He tumbled over himself several times.
Then he hit damp grass hard.
For a few seconds everything went black.
When Samuel opened his eyes again, he lay still.
Gasping.
Dazed.
In pain.
Above him stretched an open sky.
Red. Violet. Endless.
The tree line stood only a few meters away.
The forest rose behind him like a dark wall.
Samuel slowly turned his head.
Between the trunks, the fog still hung.
Dense. Motionless.
He listened.
For a moment he thought he heard the scratching again.
Far away.
Deep in the forest.
Then it fell silent.
Nothing emerged from the trees.
Nothing followed him.
Only darkness remained.
Samuel closed his eyes.
His body began to tremble as the adrenaline faded.
All the pain returned.
Every wound. Every bruise. Every exhausted muscle.
But he was alive.
And somewhere between the last echoes of his fear, he thought he heard a voice once more.
Not clearly. Barely a whisper.
Almost like a memory. Almost like someone he once knew.
Then it too disappeared.
And for the first time in an eternity…
there was silence.