He turns up his collar, trying to keep the night out, but nothing can save him now. Tossing a glance to the impenetrable forests to his left and right, he quickens his pace, instinctively trying to get to the safety of the cities lights. He doesn't know it now, but he's not going to make it.
There is a crackle in the woods to his left. He twirls, so fast his hat falls from his head, but he pays it no heed. The forest is what has his attention now, the dark, dangerous forest. For a minute, he scans the forest, lit only by star and moonlight. And there is a full moon, and a slight wind, causing the smaller trees to wave slowly. His eyes dart from moving shadow to moving shadow, looking for what he knows is there. Waiting for him.
Waiting for him.
After a minute, he picks up his hat, and starts again for the safety of the city, a little faster this time. In the night, there is silence. No insects, no birds, no bats, no deer, nothing. Just the pale moonlight, and the waving trees. He picks up his pace again, a terrible fear starting to take hold.
Behind him, he hears footsteps, quick sounding, as from one who is running. The spins around, looking down the deserted dirt road, but there is nothing. He takes a step in the other direction, away from the city, but stops suddenly. There is a line in the soft dirt now that wasn't there when he walked by. He backs up quickly, stumbling over terrified feet, turns and runs toward the city, trying desperately not to scream.
After a few minutes, he stops running, and goes down to one knee by the side of the road. His panting is the only sound in the forest, and he is panting hard. His breaths come raggedly, with a slight wheeze that comes from trying to control it. He takes off his coat, for the exertion has made him very hot, and he folds it quickly onto the scrag grass by the side of the road. Slowly, he sits on it, throwing the occasional glance back toward where the line in the road is. After a moment, he begins to smile.
"There was nothing there." he says out loud, and loudly. "That line was there all along. I just missed it." His voice sounds jolly, trying to say that he's embarrassed over his fear, but he knows that the line was not there. He knows that there is something out there, hunting him.
Hunting him.
"There is something out there hunting me." The thought causes him to break into a light jog, coat under one arm, tossing furtive glances into the forest, but there is nothing. The wind picks up, and the dance of the shadows picks up, and he quickens his pace once again.
To his right, on the side of the road, is a sign. "Port Hope - 10 km" it says, and he laughs out loud. 10 km to safety. Less, if he can reach the paved roads of civilization, and get out of these back woods. This new thought spurs his pace again, this time by confidence, and not fear. But then something runs across the road, maybe a hundred feet in front of him. A shadow of something, moving too fast to guess at what it was. He stops, skidding in the undisturbed dirt, then slowly walks forward, looking into the woods where the shadow went. And then to where it had come from. But there are no tracks on the road, save a single paw print in the exact centre.
In the distance, a wolf howls, and he turns from the forest and sprints, as fast as he can, toward the city. In the forest, branches crackle and snap, and he throws his jacket away, for trying to run and carry it is slowing him. And he needs all the speed he has, and more, to survive.
Suddenly, a figure emerges from the forest, moving at inhuman speeds, and grabs him. He fights for a moment, but the figure is inhumanly strong, and he is exhausted. He worms in the inhuman grip, and comes face to face with the shadow-figure. Glowing green eyes and long canine teeth sparkle in the moonlight, and he screams. He feels a hand on his head, pulling his hair, pulling his head back, he feels the bite on his neck, a sharp, searing pain...
And then he feels no more.
When he is completely emptied, I take his body far into the forest, bury it deep in the earth, and go looking for a resting place for the day, out of the sun. It is with great wisdom that mortals fear the night, and the wilds, for I am the Wilds. I am the Night. I am the Moon. I am the Stars. I am the Dark. I am the Earth.
I am Gangrel.