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Chapter 1

Fear. Fear is a strange emotion. It should have no power over you yet it does. A seemingly invisible thing cripples you and brings you to your knees, weakening the mind. You become paranoid, at the end of the edge waiting for one final push to send you over. Instead, though, you tumble slowly into the sea of overthinking and hate. You try desperately to cling to any kind of normality or clearance but it slips from your grip. You drown, you crack. Like an egg, those emotions pouring out of you spreading like a disease throughout your body with no cure. Everyone cracks, it's just a matter of time because Fear is the mind-killer.

There was silence in the woods, dense foliage, and the smell of rotten leaves and twigs filled the air, filling your nostrils with a putrid stench. There was a thick bog just a few metres away, with a warning in bold black letters on a neon yellow background. The sign read 'do NOT enter fast sinking mud!' The bog itself was surrounded by a falling chain fence rusted and worn from the years of being rained and trampled on. Kids would dare each other to enter it and see who would last the longest jumping from one log to another. They would have racing hearts and sweaty palms because if one wrong move was made they would never be seen again. They officially cut off the bog a few years back when a group of kids was reported missing near it and left no trace; only a scrap of fabric from one of their shirts was discovered a few months later. The poor grieving mother of the youngest child who had vanished stormed the town hall and demanded the Mayor shut it off, deeming it unfit for anyone to enter.

There was an old rangers tower some drive away from the bog perched on the edge of the mountainside dust collecting on the old stereo that used to call out commands to the officer who waited day and night with a walkie talkie on his hip and a cold cup of coffee on a nightstand next to an unmade bed. The woods were always silent, not a sound disturbing it.

" AHHHHHHH" a raw scream ripped through the woods a shaking figure tumbling down a nearby hill hair tangled with twigs and mud, hands scratched and stinging, eyes wide and fearful the figure scrambled to get to their feet dirt and dust flying around the almost animalistic struggle. There was something snared around their foot sharp teeth digging into soft tender flesh red blood oozing from the wound. As a shaky filthy hand tugged at the trap surrounding their foot-long black hair covering one side of their afraid face, they touched the wound. They looked around wildly like a scared bunny. Prey.

Something was hunting them, it tracked the scent like a bloodhound tracking a fox. A Predator with heavy muddy boots racing through the woods chasing after its prey, dragging it back to its den in a wild frenzy. Prey continued to observe their surroundings. Their nails dug into the ground before clawing at the edge of the trap before finally pulling open its jaw and sliding its foot out. As they removed one of their socks and wrapped it around their feet before standing up shakily not wanting to put any pressure on it, they muttered angrily, "this is what you get for playing hero."

It was a ridiculous idea they had thought up on a Spring evening at a party. "I'll help try and find those missing kids!" they had proclaimed speech slurred alcohol infesting their minds. The idea seemed brave, noble even! They would be the talk of the town when they discovered the skeletons and or preserved bodies of those kids! However, now they were here in some dingy woods, parked miles away from the city, regretting their decision deeply. "I should have stayed in a hotel," they scolded themselves. They should have stayed where it was safe and forgotten this stupid little hunt.

Suddenly the woods seemed to shift, the air became stiff. Almost suffocating the night sky swirled above them, the prey and the predator chasing round and round like the stars in the night swirls of blues and purples. The beast continued to stalk the woods dressed in clothing as black as the shadows that sprung from the trees. Silvery wisps of the moon bled through the leaves covering the prey in an almost angelic glow. The Predator knew the woods well, and they also knew how to break their prey's minds and make them crazy with fear. They weren't human nor were they a beast, just a thing chasing after those unfortunate enough to get in Its way. Despite the wood's long finger-like branches that cascaded terrifyingly over them, their prey still limped and hopped through its path, Bushes and trees tearing and grabbing at their clothing. Begging them to stay and continue to play in this sick twisted game of cat and mouse. There was no end or finish or prize, only pain and insanity.

Predators were making their way swiftly towards their prize. Those claw-like fingernails twitched, wanting to wrap themselves around the handle of the gun and shoot, wanting to satisfy the craving and lust for blood. It drove them forward, watching intensely as they saw their Prey continue to crawl towards their car, the black exterior blending into the woods well; it had oil track marks smeared over its wheels. Prey climbed in and shut the door with a SLAM before clicking the locks concealing themselves. They breathed heavily, lungs filling with stale dusty air. They gripped their leather chair nervously, nerves settling for a moment. Suddenly, Prey lifted a leg from the seat, unwrapping the sock from the wound, mouth hanging open in a silent scream. When they saw the thick blood before swiftly producing a hand wipe, rubbing the alcohol-soaked rag over the deep marks in their flesh, hissing. Wrapping the sock back around the wound tying it in a bow-like knot they plucked their keys from the dashboard plugging them into the ignition, twisting and ignition. The engine turned on and gave a soft purr. Prey's hope leapt up with the thought of escape.

They pressed their (right) foot down onto the brakes, the car lurching forward before driving off into the night; they were still weary; the dirt roads all looked the same in the dim lighting. The bog was now behind them... SCREECH. The car came to a halt. Prey was thrown forward in their seat; the tight seat belt prevented them from becoming a red splat on the ground. A figure stood before them with combat boots smeared in something dark and almost unrecognisable the smell of metallic hit their noses they recognised what was going on suddenly desperately pulling at their seat belt ' It can't be them no no no-'

Click.

For a moment, they froze as their struggle subsided. They looked over the steering wheel, their hands now clammy and warm, the barrel of a gun pointed straight at them. The predator's face was covered by their shadow, the puffy jumper they were wearing defining no features, no curves or muscles. The trees rustled Prey still tried to open their car but soon gave up breaking down crying long hallowing wails filling the tiny space they looked forward with tears streaming down their cheeks "Please don't hurt me" they couldn't see the thing's eyes but they knew that they would hold no mercy or remorse.

BANG.

One click and it was done, the predator had finally caught its prey. The car's windshield was now shattered by a spider web-like crack, which warped the glass and spread a red tint over it like some kind of grotesque stained glass window. Prey's eyes were averted, their bodies slumped and still. Mouth pressed in a thin line Predator pried the door open with a crowbar before discarding it onto the ground and pulling the corpse from its seat letting it fall to the floor with a heavy thud no kindness or respect for what they had done. They dragged the body over to the bog huffing and panting the whole way. Pushing it in with their feet watching as it disappeared as if it had never existed, dropping the gun in after the body, the fingerprints vanishing with it. With one final glance, they walked away from the scene.