An icy howl pierces the night sky, causing him to stop with fear. His blood runs cold as he begins to imagine what kind of evil beast had made that sound, and what it meant. It was not a very friendly howl, he was sure of that. His eyes dart from side to side as he frantically searches for its source. Something inside of him tells him to run far away and never look back, but another part of him wants to know what that creature was. His mind tells him to escape before it was too late, but a rustling in the underbrush to his left lets him know it is already too late.

He spins toward the source of the sound, dread racing through his mind. He knows he should not look because he is afraid of what it would be, or what it wouldn�t be. All that he knows was that once he looks at the creature it would be too late to flee. He would have to stand his ground and kill it or it would kill him. He was not the hunter, but the hunted. He could not just ignore the creature beside him or he would die. He could not just wake up and have it all disappear like a bad dream. This was life and death. He turns toward the sound and what he saw frightened him even more than he had ever imagined could be possible.

His mind could not believe what his eyes were seeing in front of him. It seemed to be impossible, yet his eyes told him something different. He could have sworn that something had been standing there just a moment ago, yet nothing was over there. Now he still did not know where this creature was and that paralyzed him with terror. This creature still had the element of surprise and it was a great advantage, and it seemed to realize that. This creature knew where he was, but he did not have a clue as to its whereabouts. He had to think of something to do and do it fast. It would soon be upon him and he would be dead. He hears the hideous howl again, and this time he knows it is right behind him.

He spins around to face the beast, whipping his sword free from its resting place in his scabbard. The monster was wolf-like in form, yet much bigger, standing slightly taller than a man upon its hind legs. Its yellow eyes have a slight glow within the dark, dense forest, blood and drool dripping from its fangs. He had heard rumors of these beasts, the WolFiends, vicious creatures who kill without remorse. He brings the giant blade down on the WolFiend�s skull, tearing through flesh and shattering bone. The skull shatters upon impact, spewing hot blood all over the ground. The massive corpse slowly drops to the bloody soil. Before he can examine the blood-soaked carcass at his feet, it turns into ashes and is blown away by the wind, to be lost forever. A sigh of relief escapes from his mouth now that that monster has been slain and the danger of it is all over. Now he could exit the depths of this dark and gloomy forest. He mutters a curse as he realizes he dropped his pack when he first heard the howl. He wipes some of the crimson blood off of his forehead as he walks over to the spot where his pack is sitting. He bends down to pick his pack up and pain shoots through his nerves as a crushing blow to his ribs sends him reeling backwards.

He hits the ground and his skull bounces off the stump of a tree, making him feel dizzy and weak. Blood gushes from a wound in his scalp, adding his blood to the soil. His lungs burn with every effort to breathe. He realizes he had made an extremely stupid mistake by letting his guard down. Of course any intelligent beast would hunt in groups. Why did I think I was safe? His thoughts are cut off by a viscous blow to his face that tears open fresh wounds in his flesh. Blood runs down his face and into his eyes, obstructing his vision. He wipes the warm blood away just in time to see the gleaming blade of an axe tearing through the humid air right toward his face. The force of the blow would kill him. If he didn�t move he was dead like the beast he had killed. He had only a few seconds to avoid the blade of death or else he would never see his friends ever again. Pain jolts through his whole body, making him slump onto the ground. He knew he was going to die.

His heart skips a beat when he realizes what his fate is. He is going to die in these evil woods, alone. Alone. That one word rings through his mind over and over. Alone. No one would know he was dead because nobody knew he had come into the sacred forest alone. His greed and lust for personal wealth had brought him here to find the hidden treasures within, and now he was doomed to die a hideous and painful death, alone. They would find his rotting corpse where he was, here in the cursed depths of the trees, all alone. Nobody would know who killed him or why they had killed him because he was foolish enough to venture into the heart of the forest alone, and he is going to be alone for his last few moments of life.

A fierce cry of pain snaps him out of his trance. The axe-man is gone and he is still alive. He catches a glimpse of one of the WolFiends collapsing to the ground and turning into dust. Once again the wind blows the dust deeper into the forest. He begins to wonder how long he had been sitting here. His wounds were no longer bleeding and it was easier to breathe. Pain still sears throughout every bone in his body. He struggles to get to his feet as a thought sweeps through his mind. Who killed that creature? Why did he help me? He looks up to see a heavily armored man, one much bigger than the axe-wielding man had been, towering over him with a loaded crossbow pointed right between his eyes.

He stops trying to get to his feet as he sees the hostile look in this man�s eyes. This man had saved his life, even if it was unintended. He would have been laying here on the ground with a shattered skull, dead. Alone. Now he might die from this man. He figures it might as well be from a crossbow than an axe. Either way he was dead. Nobody would know that he had almost been killed by an axe instead of a crossbow, so why should he care? He was still going to die, alone. A thin fog is beginning to flow through the air around him. The man motions for him to stand, so he slowly struggles to his feet, leaning against a tree for support. The fog is getting even thicker and he can hear rain beginning to fall onto the tops of the forest trees. The man begins to lower his crossbow and a sigh of relief escapes his mouth, but suddenly he snaps it back up and shoots it right at him.

Panic sweeps through him as the crossbow bolt moves swiftly through the air. He braces himself for the inevitable as the bolt flies over his right shoulder, barely nicking him. An icy howl of pain rings throughout the night as one of the WolFiends drop to the ground and, like the others before it, turns into dust and is blown deeper into the forest. Fresh blood emerges from his shoulder where the crossbow had nicked him. Pain sears throughout his whole shoulder. He wonders how this man was able to see the creature behind him in this dark and foggy forest. He looks up at the man, who is motioning for him to move along the path, but that path leads even deeper into the woods.

The fog is even thicker than before and the rain is coming down even harder than before. He hears thunder booming in the distance and an uneasy feeling creeps through his head. Realizing he is in no position to argue with the man, he begins to follow the trail leading into the heart of the woods. With each step down that path the fog gets thicker. Soon he is only able to see things that are directly in front of him. Something inside of him is screaming to go back before it was too late, but the adventurous part of him wins. He takes another step and suddenly feels a burning sensation of pain ripping through every nerve in his body. He collapses to the ground with a crossbow bolt jutting out from between his shoulder blades. This time he was dead for sure, lost forever in the murky depths of this forest, alone.