The rustling was from the bushes.

My first instinct, from home, would be to ignore it. It would probably be a rabbit or a mouse. Maybe a snake.

But I wasn't home anymore.

And things here weren't as harmless as a bunny.

I stepped back, but as I did, my heel caught the gnarled root of one of the many ancient trees, and my stomach swooped as I fell to the ground.

The bushes rustled again, distracting me from the pain in my butt, and making my heart leap in my throat.

Was I going to die today?

I probably would have screamed, had the sound not died before leaving my throat - the thing that emerged from the bushes a more gruesome creature than any my imagination could conjure. Its sallow grey skin hung in folds from a bony frame, black eyes endless tunnels as they gazed at me. A lipless maw hung open, needle teeth glistening, and a rancid odour growing stronger with each pant as it moved forward. Perhaps that was the most horrifying of all. With each step, the monster whimpered in pain, and its limbs were as unsteady as a newborn foal. It quaked as though it would collapse at any moment, the pain being too much, and yet it kept coming forward - an agonizingly slow, pitiful creature, with sharp, obsidian claws that could probably tear my throat out.

I swallowed. I couldn't move. Fear paralyzed my limbs, turning them into blocks of cinder. I would be mauled by a monster I could easily outrun if I could just bring myself to stand.

But I couldn't.

I was going to die.