𐑮𐑮ㅤⴙᧉᧉsᧉ𝗎ⴖ𝗀ㅤⳊ ¹

Running through the mist, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he could barely see the path ahead, the trees seemed endless with each quick, uncoordinated step. The mist enveloped the entire path, the forest a labyrinth. Unsure which way to turn or where to flee, he was lost, disoriented, unable to fully grasp why he was running or who he was running from. All he knew was that he had to get out of there as fast as possible. Suddenly, he felt his body grow heavier and heavier, and then he collapsed from exhaustion and the weariness of running without stopping. He woke up suddenly, like an alarmed puppy, and looked around. The room was gloomy; the wooden furniture was somewhat worn, the tapestries covering the walls were somber, some of them unfurled. The bed creaked when the boy sat up abruptly. He didn't wait; he ran towards the door, but it was locked. Of course, it was more than obvious that he would wake up in a gloomy, dark, and completely cold room, and to top it all off, locked in.

"Let me out!"

The boy spoke desperately, pounding on the large doors with force, the sound echoing throughout the room. Silence. No one answered. Nothing moved. Jake, the brown-haired boy, grew even more desperate, feeling completely alone, as if he were the only one there, with no one else, in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the forest shrouded in thick, eerie fog. The boy thought it might be some kind of prank by his friends, but he didn't think they would go this far. Then, suddenly, he heard a sound, heavy, meticulously calculated, and, as if it were something supernatural, someone appeared behind him. The figure was imposing, clearly dwarfing Jake. His voice, low and grave, spoke:

— "Well, well... And this... beautiful prey?"

The man laughs softly, as if he were savoring the fear that runs through Jake's body.

— "What brings you here, sweetheart?"