The Chosen Prey

The Hunt Begins

The wind howled through the trees, a cold, biting wind that cut through Lila's jacket as if it were paper. She pulled the thin fabric tighter around her body, her breath coming in short bursts as she pushed forward into the forest. She didn't know how long she had been running—minutes, hours? It didn't matter. What mattered was the sound behind her. The faint rustling of leaves, the snapping of twigs under heavy boots. They were coming.

Lila stumbled, her foot catching on a hidden root. She slammed into the ground, dirt scraping against her palms, but she bit back the cry that threatened to escape her lips. No sound. If they heard her, they would close in. That much she knew. They'd given her a head start—one they said was generous. But there was nothing generous about it. This wasn't a game. This was a hunt.

Her body trembled as she picked herself up, her knees buckling for a second before she forced them to keep moving. She couldn't afford to stop. The rules had been made clear.

"Run as fast as you can, little doe," one of the men had sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "If you're still breathing by dawn, you'll get your reward."

Lila didn't want to think about what kind of reward they had in mind.

The forest grew thicker as she moved deeper into its heart, the moonlight barely filtering through the gnarled branches overhead. She could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears, louder even than the footsteps that seemed to echo all around her now. How many of them were there? Four? Five? She hadn't been able to count before they let her go, shoving her into the wilderness with nothing but the clothes on her back and a whispered prayer in her throat.

For a fleeting moment, she thought about the life she'd left behind. Her quiet apartment. The steady hum of the city streets below her window. She'd complained about how loud it was, how she could never get any peace. Now, she'd give anything for the noise, for the safety of crowds.

Lila's chest burned as she ran, her lungs aching with each breath. The terrain was growing more treacherous, the ground uneven and slick from the recent rain. She tried to steady herself, moving between the trees with more caution, but she knew it wasn't enough. They were gaining on her.

She could feel it in the air—thick with danger, heavy with anticipation. And then, there was the whistle. It pierced the night like a signal, high and sharp. Her heart lurched in her chest. They were close.

A sudden flash of movement to her right caught her attention. Lila spun around, her pulse quickening. She couldn't see them, but they were there. She could feel their presence, lurking just out of sight, waiting for her to slip up, to fall into their trap.

Desperation clawed at her throat, and she veered left, sprinting down a narrow path between the trees. She had to keep moving. If she could just make it through the night, they'd let her go. That's what they promised. But even as the thought passed through her mind, she knew it was a lie. They weren't going to let her go. They never let anyone go.

The branches tore at her clothes, her skin, leaving angry red marks in their wake. But she barely felt the pain. Fear was an anesthetic, numbing everything except the primal instinct to survive. Her mind raced, trying to figure out where she could hide, where she could outlast them.

And then she saw it.

Up ahead, through the thick wall of trees, a rocky outcrop loomed, dark and jagged against the night sky. It wasn't much, but it was something. A place to rest, to catch her breath, maybe even to hide. She pushed herself harder, her legs screaming in protest as she covered the final distance, collapsing against the rough stone surface.

For a moment, Lila allowed herself to breathe. She pressed her back to the cold rock, her chest heaving, eyes wide as she scanned the shadows. Silence. Had she lost them? The forest seemed to hold its breath with her, the only sound the rustling of leaves in the wind.

But the moment of relief was short-lived.

A figure stepped into the clearing.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. His face hidden by the shadows, but she could see the gleam of his eyes in the darkness, watching her. Waiting. A primal fear gripped her, but before she could move, he spoke.

"You're fast." His voice was low, smooth, almost amused. "But not fast enough."

Lila's heart slammed against her ribs as the man took a step closer, his form becoming clearer. He wasn't like the others. The other men were brutes, savage and wild, their cruelty evident in every word, every sneer. But this one was different. His presence was commanding, deliberate, as though he controlled the entire hunt with just a look.

"Who are you?" Lila's voice came out in a whisper, hoarse from the running, the fear.

He tilted his head slightly, as if considering her question. "The one who decides if you live or die."

Lila's pulse quickened. She took a step back, but there was nowhere to go. The rock pressed against her spine, trapping her. His eyes, gleaming in the moonlight, never left hers. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at her—not with the sadistic hunger of the others, but with an intense, unnerving interest.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice trembling. "What do you want from me?"

The man's lips curled into a slow smile. "Survival." He took another step toward her, his presence suffocating. "And maybe... something more."