Chapter 1: The Dream

A man runs through a dark and foreboding forest. A pale glow from the moon dimly illuminating a sea of wet leaves and tall grasses before him as he presses onward. Every step earning another scratch or ding, drawing blood from his face and tearing at his clothes. Several times, sharp thorny bushes have caught onto him as he runs, tearing off his clothes in large patches until eventually he is left in ragged tatters. And yet he keeps running. The man knows not why he is running, save for the omnipresent feeling of impending doom, an almost certain knowledge that he is being chased. What he is being chased by, he remains unaware.

He had awoken previously in this alien landscape, in a small clearing surrounded on all sides by unusually pale tall grass, obscuring his view of the treeline. The trees were abnormally dark, a brown so deep and desaturated it was almost a black, with pale leaves the same unnatural color of the grass. That was when the feeling had started, as he had almost seen the grass farthest back beginning to rustle. He took off then in the opposite direction of the rustling, with no knowledge of this strange place or how he may have come to be there, but with an almost inhuman terror and desire to escape. Left only with a sense of dread and paranoia that has accompanied him since awakening he relentlessly pushes onward. Every attempt to slow down or stop met with a worsening of feeling as some sixth sense screams at him to move.

He is tired and worn down from what seems like hours of nonstop exertion, but the forest darkens ever more as he moves forward. The sinister malignant gleam of the wet bark and leaves of the trees on the path before him almost resembling eyes in the dark, causing him to shudder internally as he could have sworn, they moved to follow him. He began to hear sounds then. Faint at first, but increasing in tempo as he moves forward. The sound of clacking and scraping, some manner of hard object striking another in a regular rhythm, one which sounded like it was drawing closer. He dared a glance behind then in an attempt to spot his pursuers, failing however to see more than what may have otherwise been described as an almost indiscernible shifting of shadows in the forest behind him. This attempt at revealing his tormentors ended with blunder however, as a foot snagged upon a gnarled tree root as he ran, bringing him to the ground.

He hits the ground hard, his worn-down clothing proving little resistance as he falls onto the forest floor. Pale skin staining with red as his knees cut themselves upon small stones, several embedding themselves into his flesh as he falls to his knees, trembling in shock at the sudden fall. He can almost hear a sort of… laughter behind him, as he struggles to get to his feet. The laughter is faint, but unmistakably artificial, the grinding and cracking sound of rocks, teeth, or metal moving together in an abominable attempt of emulating human speech.

The thought of not only something chasing him, but that said something was intelligent enough to be capable of its mocking laughter, plunged another lance of fear directly into the man’s heart. So shaken was he by this, that as he stood to his feet, he did not notice the small stones embedded in his skin, that had previously been cold to the touch, had begun to heat up unnaturally quickly, the blood that had previously covered his skin from the fall having vanished. Moving to his knees, and then once more into a running posture, the man brushed off the remaining stones as he ran forward once more.

Seeing a bright light ahead, he quickened his pace, his heart thumping in his chest so powerfully and steadily from the adrenaline and fear that it was close to bursting. Pumping his arms to move faster, he reached the bottom of a hill, dark trees flanking either side, their environs covered in shadows, but at the crest of the hill the trees stopped. Behind him the man head the sound, louder than ever, the ceaseless clacking of material repeating even more frequently than the sound of his own ragged breathing. Whatever was chasing him was not only gaining on him, but almost upon him! Pushing himself to the very limit, the man scrabbled up the hill, daring not to look back lest he once more trip and fall, every footstep upon the now rocky and gravelly hill precious as he came more and more out of the forest. The light above him now he saw as the moon, shining far more brightly than it had in the depths of the forest, it guided his way over the uneven terrain as he sprinted and scrabbled, in a desperate attempt to outrun the thing behind him.

As he crested the hill, he noticed something, a lack of the relentless sound that had been so long dogging his trail. Looking behind him, the man saw nothing, no movement of any kind, save the slow motion and swaying of the dark trees at the bottom of the hill. He fell to his knees, utterly exhausted, panting hard as he tried to regain his breath. All that could be heard was the gentle creaking and groaning of the trees, the soft whisper of the wind upon his face. The thing that was pursuing him had stopped, and he was safe now. Falling upon his back he lay there, panting and exhausted from what had seemed like hours of running for his life, he finally relaxed. He closed his eyes finally, and was met with inky blackness.

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