Jacob pushed through the underbrush, his breath coming in quick bursts as Bernie’s frantic barking guided him forward. The dog had never broken the routine like this—never bolted off leash into the dark unknown. Something was wrong, deeply wrong, and the ominous stillness of the forest only deepened Jacob’s unease.
Branches clawed at Jacob’s arms as he forced his way toward the clearing ahead. There, Bernie stood rigid, his frame tense and his tail low. He was silent now, his gaze locked on something beyond the trees. A chill crept up Jacob’s spine as he took a cautious step closer.
Jacob’s eyes followed Bernie’s line of sight, and his heart slammed against his ribs. Just beyond the clearing, the forest seemed darker, heavier, as though hiding something that shouldn’t be there. What Jacob saw next made the ground sway beneath him, the weight of unseen danger pressing in.