I wanted to punch that bastard so badly.
But this wasn't the time.
I had to run.
So I ran.
I ran with everything I had. My legs felt like they were about to collapse, my lungs burned with every breath, and the sound of pounding paws echoed behind us as the wolves chased us through the forest.
Branches whipped against my face, scratching my skin. My shoes slipped against the damp soil as I struggled to keep my balance. Someone crashed into my shoulder while sprinting past me, nearly knocking me off my feet.
"Move! Move!" someone screamed.
Panic had completely taken over.
I turned my head for just a second—
And I wish I hadn't.
The wolves had already caught up to the people behind us.
One of my coworkers was tackled to the ground. The impact knocked the air out of him before a wolf's jaws clamped down on his neck. His scream was cut short, replaced by a wet, choking sound as blood poured from the wound.
Another woman was dragged down by her leg. Her nails clawed desperately at the dirt as she screamed in agony, her voice raw with terror.
Blood sprayed across the forest floor.
The smell hit me a second later.
It was metallic, thick, and suffocating.
Some people were already being torn apart.
They were being eaten alive.
My stomach twisted violently.
For a moment, my legs almost stopped moving.
That scene—
It felt familiar.
Fragments of memory flickered in my mind.
Darkness.
Screaming.
Running.
The same helpless terror that crawled under your skin and refused to leave.
Just like my dreams.
Just like ten years ago.
My chest tightened painfully as those scattered memories brushed against my mind, but they disappeared just as quickly as they appeared.
I gritted my teeth.
Even though my legs felt like they were about to snap in half, I forced myself to keep running.
I don't want to die.
Not like this.
Not in some cursed dungeon.
Not without even leaving behind a body for someone to bury.
The thought alone filled me with dread.
Would my parents even know what happened to me?
Would anyone even find my remains in a place like this?
Or would I just disappear?
Forgotten.
My breathing grew heavier as those thoughts spiraled through my mind.
No.
I shook my head violently.
Thinking like that won't help.
I clenched my teeth and suddenly changed direction, veering sideways instead of running straight ahead. If I kept running with the main group, the wolves would just continue chasing the crowd.
I needed to break their focus.
Needed to become less noticeable.
Some of the monsters continued chasing the larger group.
Only a few of them adjusted their path and began following me.
Good.
Better than all of them.
Even two or three wolves would be bad enough, but it was still far better than an entire pack.
I pushed my legs harder.
The forest around me felt darker the deeper I went. The trees were tall and twisted, their branches tangling together and blocking the sky above.
The air felt damp.
Heavy.
Like something rotten was hidden beneath the earth.
I kept running until—
I saw something ahead.
And I stopped.
My breath caught in my throat.
Bodies.
No.
Not bodies.
Pieces.
Limbs were scattered across the forest floor. Torn clothes soaked in blood. Flesh that barely looked human anymore lay spread across the ground like discarded trash.
The earth beneath them had turned dark red.
The smell of blood was overwhelming.
They must have been the ones who ran ahead earlier.
The ones who thought they were smart for leaving first.
My vision blurred for a moment.
This wasn't a dungeon.
This was a slaughterhouse.
I stood there frozen for a few seconds, my mind refusing to process what my eyes were seeing.
A hand.
A leg.
Part of a torso.
Even the trees nearby were splattered with blood.
The silence of the forest made it worse.
There were no screams anymore.
Only stillness.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to move.
Standing here would only get me killed.
I tried to move past the remains, forcing my legs to step forward even though every instinct screamed at me to turn back.
I just need to get through this.
Just keep moving.
My foot suddenly stepped on something soft.
Something wrong.
I froze.
Slowly, I looked down.
It was a hand.
Severed clean at the wrist.
The fingers were slightly curled, as if they had been trying to grab something before death.
There was a ring on the finger.
A simple band.
A wedding ring.
My breath hitched.
He was married.
The thought struck me harder than the sight of the blood.
Somewhere out there, maybe there was a wife waiting for him to come home.
Maybe children who thought their father was just working late today.
Maybe someone who kissed him goodbye this morning without knowing it would be the last time.
I quickly covered my mouth as nausea rose in my throat.
I wanted to throw up.
I wanted to collapse.
I wanted to wake up from this nightmare.
But it wasn't a nightmare.
This was real.
Painfully real.
I forced myself to breathe.
"In… out… in… out…"
Panicking won't help in this situation.
If I lose control now, I'll die.
Simple as that.
Slowly, I stepped away from the hand, careful not to look at it again.
My legs still trembled, but I forced them to keep moving.
Because no matter how horrifying this place was—
I still wanted to live.