The thing that had moved was nothing more than a scavenger bird—massive and sinister. Its talons were soaked in dried blood, and it emerged from the mist with a raspy cry, beating its wings heavily before disappearing into the shadows.
Dylan's heart skipped a beat. If he hadn't been so observant, he probably would've shot.
But that detail made him realize something important.
If that bird came from that direction… then maybe the creature they were trying to avoid wasn't nearby.
He exchanged a glance with Maggie, who seemed to come to the same conclusion.
"We're not tempting fate," she whispered.
Dylan nodded and took the first step. This time, they didn't bother being careful.
They ran.
The ground was treacherous, littered with broken bones and twisted roots, but they didn't slow down. The fog seemed determined to engulf them, and each step echoed strangely in that cursed forest.
The silence was deafening.
Too deafening.
Then they entered a zone where the acrid stench of dried blood still hung heavy in the air. The putrid smell of decomposing corpses choked them, forcing them to hold their breath.
They walked cautiously, guns already reloaded, moving with the tension of hunted animals, ready to fire at the slightest suspicious movement.
Then, through a dense patch of trees, they saw the horror.
Around them, corpses were tied to the trees. Humanoid figures with pale skin, shaved heads, and expressions of frozen terror on their faces. Their bodies were horribly mutilated, devoured, and the main injury was at the abdomen—as if their attacker had a preference for entrails.
Dylan counted eleven, all arranged around a twelfth body that was… oddly intact.
He approached slowly, heart pounding in his chest. Unlike the others, this body hadn't been torn apart.
It was suspended from a massive tree, chained by the wrists, arms spread in a grotesque parody of crucifixion.
Her pale skin contrasted starkly with the streaks of dried blood tracing irregular lines across her limbs, torso, and legs.
Her eyes were closed, her face frozen in a strange expression—somewhere between ecstasy and agony. Her slightly parted lips revealed bloodstained teeth.
Maggie froze behind him, holding her breath.
"This isn't… a simple massacre."
Dylan nodded without taking his eyes off the scene.
"Looks more like a ritual."
There was intention behind this display. The other bodies had been gutted, scattered, consumed. But this one… had been preserved. Honored, as if saved for the main course.
A cold chill ran down his spine.
Something had left her here.
And it wasn't the work of a mindless creature.
Dylan stood still, eyes fixed on the "woman" chained to the tree. Something felt off. A nagging doubt, a primal instinct that refused to fade.
She was naked, exposed in the middle of this carnage. Every part of him screamed to check her pulse, to make sure she was really dead. But just touching her, in these circumstances, might look suspicious to Maggie.
So, he just watched.
And that's when he saw it.
A barely perceptible twitch.
A pulse, like a faint throb beneath the skin. But her breath—there was none. As if she was forcing herself not to breathe.
His suspicions were confirmed.
Dylan tightened his grip on his weapon and said coldly:
"You're alive, aren't you? Move, or I shoot."
It was a lie. His finger wasn't even on the trigger.
But he wanted to see. Watch for any reaction.
And above all, understand what he was dealing with. She might be a humanoid creature in distress, but she could just as well be a potential enemy. Especially if she lacked any social ability with strangers. The one-eyed creature was proof enough. Or those little green goblins.
This one looked more refined. More human. But they had to stay alert.
"Hey, I'm talking to you. You answer when someone speaks," Dylan barked, aiming his weapon at the woman chained to the tree.
"She might not speak our language. We're in another world, after all," Maggie murmured behind him.
Dylan didn't even glance at her. His tone stayed icy.
"Earlier, in the cave, a creature spoke to me. Loud and clear. I don't know how, but we can communicate with them."
Maggie swallowed and slowly stepped toward the woman. Dylan stepped back to give her space. After all, she was a woman. Maybe a natural instinct would help her get through…
But before he even finished the thought, a dull thud rang out.
The brutal impact of a fist slamming into soft flesh.
Dylan's eyes widened as he saw Maggie drive her fist into the woman's exposed belly.
"Shit…" he thought. "What made me think of her as a female entity?"
Maggie nodded, satisfied with her move, as the woman twisted in her chains from the pain, her torment amplified by her uncomfortable position.
Dylan, arms crossed, sighed inwardly.
"You should've talked when the nice guy was asking…"
The chained woman spasmed violently, her arms stiffening in the restraints. A strangled moan escaped her lips, proof that the blow had hit home.
Dylan stood still for a second. He knew Maggie wasn't exactly patient, but he hadn't expected her to strike that fast.
"Well then…" he muttered, running a hand down his face.
Maggie, unfazed, watched the woman writhe in pain, the muscles of her abdomen tight from the hit.
"Now you're going to answer," she said, voice like ice.
Dylan shook his head and holstered his weapon with a deliberate motion.
"We could've gone a little easier, you know…"
Maggie gave him a sideways glance.
"We're on a creature's turf. One that could attack us any second. If she's alive, she should be grateful we even stopped to talk."
She paused, then placed a hand on the woman's cheek, forcing her to turn her head.
"So? You gonna keep playing or do we have to push a little harder?"
The woman slowly opened her eyes.
Dylan felt a chill crawl down his spine.
Her irises weren't human. Not entirely. An indistinct, almost spectral glow floated in the depths of her pale pupils.
And above all, she smiled.
A fragile, broken smile—but one that carried something far more disturbing than pain.
Dylan cursed internally.
"…Maggie, I think we screwed up."