The Edge Of Insanity

11-The Watchers

The cabin trembles as the crashing outside intensifies. The ground beneath us seems to ripple with each deafening impact, making our breaths quicken in unison.

The ranger's eyes widen in alarm, his earlier hostility momentarily forgotten as he whirls toward the door, hand tightening on his rifle.

Max pulls himself up, his face pale but determined. "We need to move. Now."

"No!" the ranger barks, but his voice wavers. "No one's leaving until I get some answers."

Another roar splits the air, closer this time, and the walls shudder. I catch a glimpse of something massive and dark through the window, moving swiftly between the trees.

My heart pounds. Whatever it is, it's coming straight for us.

The ranger curses under his breath, glancing between us and the window. His resolve is crumbling, fear overtaking suspicion.

"What the hell is that?" he demands, but his grip on the rifle slackens.

"Trust us," I plead, stepping forward, hands raised. "If we don't work together, we're all dead. Just listen-"

Before I can finish, the door explodes inward, showering us with splinters. A hulking figure fills the doorway, its eyes glowing like embers in the dim light.

It snarls, revealing teeth that gleam sharp and white.

The ranger staggers back, his rifle trembling. Max grabs my arm, dragging me toward the back of the cabin. "Run!" he shouts.

The creature lunges, and the ranger fires, the shot echoing like thunder in the confined space. I see the bullet strike, but the thing barely flinches, its gaze fixed on us.

Panic surges through me, and I sprint after Max, the ranger's frantic shouts and the beast's roars blending into a chaotic symphony behind us.

We burst through the back door, the cool night air hitting our faces as we stumble into the dark forest.

Branches whip at my skin, roots snag my feet, but I force myself to keep running, driven by pure, primal fear.

"What is that thing?" I gasp, struggling to keep up with Max. He doesn't answer, his focus entirely on navigating the dense underbrush.

Behind us, the sounds of pursuit grow louder. The creature crashes through the forest, tearing through obstacles with ease. We're losing ground, and I know we can't outrun it forever.

Up ahead, the trees part, revealing a steep, rocky incline. Max grabs my hand, helping me scramble up the slippery rocks.

My muscles burn, lungs ache, but I push onward, desperation lending me strength.

At the top, we collapse behind a boulder, gasping for breath. Max peers over the edge, eyes scanning the forest below.

The beast prowls the base of the incline, its eyes sweeping the shadows, searching for us.

"We have to keep moving," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the blood pounding in my ears. "There's a cave nearby. If we can make it there, we might stand a chance."

I nod, too winded to speak, and we crawl from our hiding place, every movement careful and silent. The forest stretches before us, a maze of darkness and danger.

That creature-I had seen it before. Months ago, on a routine hike through these very woods, I had stumbled upon it, injured and enraged.

I'd panicked, thrown a rock to fend it off. It had fled, but not before its eyes had burned into my memory. And now, it had come back, more monstrous and determined than before.