They didn't run.
Not yet.
Not because it wasn't the right idea. Not because they weren't afraid. But because fear had teeth, and it bit down hard, freezing them in place.
Caleb was the first to move again.
He took Hana's hand, and she gripped his tighter than he expected. He glanced back at the trees where the man with tattoos had vanished. Blood. There was blood now—black, thick, glistening like tar—slowly seeping into the moss.
"We need to go," Caleb said, louder now, to the others. "Everyone. We don't know what's out there, but it just killed someone in seconds."
The dreadlocked man—Jalen—nodded and stepped forward. "We need to move together. Slow and quiet. If it hunts by sound, we give it none."
Alya looked pale, but steady. "I'll take the rear. I have some medical gear—basic stuff. If anyone's injured or can't walk, tell me now."
No one spoke up.
"We head for higher ground," Jalen continued. "If there's a vantage point, we can figure out how far this goes. Maybe even see a way out."
"There is no way out," muttered one of the older survivors, shaking his head. "You all saw what I saw—this place isn't Earth. It's some kind of prison."
"Then we survive the prison," Hana snapped. "Or die trying. Standing here isn't an option."
That did it. The group began to move.
They left the field of bioluminescent moss behind, stepping onto firmer, darker earth. Each step into the strange forest felt like crossing into a different dream. Or nightmare.
The trees loomed—taller than redwoods, with bark like obsidian laced with living fire. Their branches didn't sway; they watched. Or that's how it felt. Now and then, one of the leaves would twitch without wind, and a flicker of bioluminescence would flash across a trunk.
Caleb kept his eyes on everything. On the strange fungal pods at the roots. On the glowing insects flitting silently through the air. On the moss that curled inward when touched.
Hana walked beside him, breathing through her nose, eyes scanning like his.
"Do you hear that?" she whispered after a few minutes.
"What?"
"No birds. No mammals. Just insects and... that humming."
He heard it now. A low vibration underfoot, subtle but constant. As if the ground were alive with some buried engine. Or heartbeat.
Behind them, someone cursed under their breath.
"I stepped in something," said a man in a suit, lifting his foot. The sole was covered in a viscous, dark fluid that bubbled faintly. The moss underneath hissed like acid meeting water.
"Don't touch anything that bleeds," Jalen warned. "We don't know what's toxic or what's bait."
"Bait?" the suited man repeated.
Caleb turned. "Yeah. Maybe something wants us to touch it."
Silence settled in again. Heavy and suffocating.
They kept walking.
An hour passed, maybe more. It was impossible to tell without a sun. The gray sky never shifted. The mist never thinned. But gradually, the terrain began to rise.
A slope.
And atop that slope, a ridge of stone.
Jalen paused. "There. That's our vantage point."
"Then what?" asked Alya.
"We take stock. Shelter. Weapons. Fire, if we can manage it."
They climbed.
It took time. Some were slower, especially the older survivors. Caleb and another man—a construction worker named Mo—helped them up. Hana supported a limping teenager who hadn't spoken a word since waking.
When they reached the top, the sight stole what little breath they had left.
The forest stretched on forever.
No clearings. No cities. No sign of civilization. Just waves and waves of trees that shifted color subtly every few miles—red canopies here, blue-green brambles there, mist rolling in every direction.
And worse—shapes.
Moving.
Far off, almost hidden by fog, something enormous strode between the trees. Bipedal. Broad-shouldered. Its outline was blurred, like it bent the light around it. But it was there. Real.
"Holy shit," Mo muttered. "It's not just that thing in the mist earlier."
"No," Caleb whispered. "This place is full of them."
Hana took a step back. "We need to get underground. Or find cliffs. Somewhere those things can't reach us."
"I saw a river to the west," said Jalen. "Maybe a mile off. If we follow the ridge line, we can make it there. Fresh water's priority."
"Weapons too," Caleb added. "We can't just keep using sticks."
One of the survivors—Danielle, a former biology student—spoke for the first time. "The moss reacts to touch. The trees bleed light. Everything here is responsive. Alive. Maybe... maybe even sentient."
"Meaning?" Caleb asked.
"Meaning it sees us," she said.
That thought silenced them again.
Then the noise came.
A distant wail, high-pitched and inhuman. Not the scream of earlier—this one echoed with rhythm. Like a call. Or a signal.
Then a second.
Then a third.
Three distinct directions. All approaching.
"They're triangulating," Jalen said, voice tight. "Something's hunting in a pack."
"Run?" Alya asked.
"No. Scatter," Caleb said. "Then regroup at the river. They're hunting sound, not heat. We split up—they get confused."
Jalen looked at him. Then nodded.
"You heard him. West. River. Don't stop until you smell water."
They ran.
Caleb didn't look back.
He and Hana stayed low, weaving through the trunks. The forest changed again—now the trees hung with long, fibrous growths like silk ropes, swaying gently despite no wind. They clung to the shadows, dodging thick roots and ducking under glowing fungi.
Once, they heard something land in the trees behind them. Heavy. Clicking.
They kept running.
Finally, the smell of water—sharp, clean, strange—hit them. They burst from the trees onto rocky ground. The river flowed fast, glowing faintly blue. Strange fish darted beneath its surface.
They weren't alone.
A cluster of survivors had already made it. Jalen was there, bleeding from the arm but upright. Alya knelt over someone unconscious. Mo was gathering dry branches. The biology student was crouched near the bank, scooping water into a broken bottle.
Caleb and Hana collapsed to their knees.
They had made it.
For now.
"We regrouped," Jalen said between breaths. "But some didn't."
"We wait for them," Caleb said.
"Not long," Hana added. "This place doesn't give you time."
They looked up.
From the woods, faint and slow, came the sound of something massive… sniffing.
Then silence again.
The Veilwild was watching.
And it would not stop.