Forest Frightful (Part 5)

At this point Eugene is a sight that would make your eyes sore. His clothes are sweat-stained, his hair is plastered to his forehead, and his steps are heavy upon the ground in spite of its relative softness. There is truly something wrong with this region. I’ll be glad to be done with it. Hopefully it will not be much longer, or shall without a doubt run into some new monstrosity, he thinks to himself as he tries to keep moving. However, his legs are sore and resist the commands of his brain, and he catches himself dragging his feet and stumbling even more than usual. I don’t think I’ve run so much in one day since I was ten years old, nor had so little sleep. He looks around and, seeing a patch of sparsely-leaved bushes, walks over to them and drops to a seat. I’ll just rest a moment, he thinks, but barely a minute has passed before exhaustion catches up to him and his eyes shut. In spite of of all the recent danger or perhaps because of it, the lure of sleep proves irresistible, and his eyes close even as he worries about what new or known oddities might assail him while he rests, the memory of the hooded man at the forefront of this lineup. Before consciousness leaves him, there is the sound of a howl in the distance, and he has time to think that surely it is too far away to worry about. The last thing he remembers is a faint smell, almost like wet dog, that seems to be emanating from the bushes that surround him. Read on →