The path through the Blackwood was supposed to be a shortcut. Mark’s flashlight beam cut a frail, wavering path through the oppressive dark, illuminating gnarled roots that seemed to grasp at our ankles. An unnatural silence had fallen an hour ago; no crickets, no rustle of nocturnal life. Just the frantic thumping of our own hearts.

“Did you see that?” Sarah whispered, her voice cracking. She pointed a trembling finger into the trees.

I saw nothing but shifting shadows. Then I saw it. A stark, impossible white against the deep green. Tall. Impossibly tall and thin, standing between two oaks. It had no face, just a blank, pale expanse where features should be. My breath hitched, a cold spike of primal fear driving into my gut.

We started to run, our panicked breaths loud in the dead air. Branches whipped at our faces, feeling like skeletal fingers. I dared a look back. It was closer now, having moved without seeming to walk. Its long, slender arms hung limply at its sides. It was just… standing there. Watching.

We burst into a small clearing, hope surging for a single, foolish moment. And then it was there, at the far edge, having somehow gotten ahead of us. It was closer than ever. I could see the texture of its suit, a void darker than the night. A low, staticky hum filled the air, vibrating in my teeth.

Mark’s flashlight died. Sarah screamed, a short, clipped sound that was cut off abruptly. In the suffocating blackness, I felt a cold, dry touch on the back of my neck. I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. I just stood there, paralyzed