At last, it appeared. It was indeed a creature—yet unlike anything he had ever seen or imagined. It was a ghoul, a being torn from the nightmares of ancient legends, now made flesh to embody terror in the real world. Though humanoid in structure, it was monstrously large, standing at an estimated height of five meters. Its body was a mass of bulging muscles, its grayish skin marred with scars that seemed to tell tales of ancient battles. It wore nothing but a primitive garment made from enormous tree leaves, tightly bound around its waist with a thick, fibrous rope.
What struck the young man with the deepest dread was the creature's face. At its center sat a single massive eye, glowing dimly with a reddish hue, like a fading ember. It had no discernible nose, suggesting it breathed solely through its wide, heavy mouth—each breath a thunderous exhale. From that mouth jutted enormous, jagged fangs, curved like primitive daggers poised to pierce any unfortunate prey.
It was bald, yet a single horn rose from the center of its head, curved like a crescent moon—an additional weapon in the creature's already terrifying arsenal. In one thick hand, it gripped the trunk of a massive tree, seemingly uprooted with bare hands and shaped into a colossal club. It rested it on its shoulder as if it were no more than a stick. In the other hand, it dragged a limp carcass by the neck—another beast, perhaps a wild deer, but far larger than normal. Its neck was twisted at a grotesque angle, and its fur-covered body was caked with blood and dirt. Its head—once perhaps a symbol of strength and grace—was now a shattered ruin, as though crushed by a single blow from that monstrous club.
Every step the ghoul took radiated power and dread. Its bare feet, thick-skinned and cracked, slammed into the ground like twin hammers, shaking the earth beneath the grass and sending dust swirling into the air. Yet, bizarrely, those forceful steps betrayed a strange imbalance. They were unsteady, almost as if the creature were tired—or wounded. Its massive muscles trembled faintly with each motion, as though they labored beneath an unbearable burden. Its breaths came in sharp bursts, accompanied by a rasping sound from deep within its broad chest.
The young man watched in tense silence, his palms slick with sweat. A cold shiver traced his skin, caught between fear and instinct. He didn't know whether to run or remain still and hope not to be noticed. After a quick deliberation, he chose to stay, planning to move only after the ghoul entered the cave—its apparent destination.
The ghoul continued its march until it reached the mouth of the cavern, which was easily twice its size. But then, it suddenly halted, as if seized by an invisible force compelling it to freeze. Slowly, it turned its head, scanning the surroundings with its glowing red eye. At that moment, the young man felt his heart shrink within his chest. His breathing became ragged, as though his lungs had forgotten their function.
His heartbeat thundered like war drums, growing louder until he feared it might betray his presence. Desperately, he tried to control his breath and steady his pulse, but each inhale felt like a scream from the depths of fear, and each exhale a whistle announcing his presence. The terror intensified when the red eye locked onto his hiding spot. Their gazes met—his eyes wide with horror, the ghoul's eye cold and murderous.
Time seemed to freeze. The world stopped spinning. But then, without warning, the ghoul turned away and entered the cave, its massive form swallowed by the darkness.
The young man finally breathed again, as though his chest had been released from a vice. But his relief was short-lived. Strange sounds began to echo from the depths of the cavern, rising like distant thunder, hinting at the vastness within. A chill prickled across his skin—a silent warning of imminent danger. As he stared anxiously into the darkness, the unexpected occurred.
Something lunged at him with terrifying speed. In that split second, a forgotten memory from the past flashed before his eyes. Instinct kicked in before conscious thought could catch up. He leapt to the side with all his might. The area he landed in wasn't safe—it left him fully exposed—but it was the only option. The space around him was far too narrow for dodging or escape. His leap was a desperate, almost heroic burst of energy that carried him four full meters away from where he had been. His leg muscles screamed in protest, but there was no time to feel pain—only the overwhelming dread that consumed him.
In that moment, gravity and physical limits ceased to matter. The only thing that governed him was the instinct to survive. The instant his body hit the ground, a deafening crash erupted behind him—like an explosion. Twisting mid-air, he glimpsed his former hiding spot—now reduced to ruins. Branches shattered into splinters, small rocks flung high like leaves caught in a storm.
It looked as though a cannonball had struck the area. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he stood—shaky, breathless—and tore off his heavy backpack. He looked toward the destruction. The scene was nightmarish. Dark red fleshy chunks dangled from nearby branches. Broken bones jutted through the debris, their sharp ends exposed.
Among the scattered remains, he saw a large eyeball—still intact—staring blankly into space, capturing the terror of its final moment. Even in stillness, it radiated fear and despair, as though it had witnessed something far greater than itself. The young man stood frozen, breath ragged, heart racing.
Then, the light dimmed. A massive shadow loomed overhead, as though a great cloud had passed over, casting the area into darkness. Dread surged through him. He realized something monstrous stood behind him. Turning swiftly, he saw the towering ghoul—just a few steps away. Its breath was hot and heavy like a gust of wind. Its eye, glowing like a burning coal, fixed on him with a gaze full of ancient hatred—as if looking at something unworthy of existence.
Struggling to stay composed, the young man felt as if the air had turned to stone, crushing his lungs. It wasn't just fear—it was helplessness in the face of overwhelming power. He tried to swallow but his throat was dry. Stepping back, his mind raced for a way out: escape? Impossible. Hide? Useless. Fight? Laughable. What haunted him most was the question—how had this creature closed the distance so quickly despite its massive size?