Wade forced his way through the dense underbrush, lungs burning as Milo’s frantic barking echoed in the distance. The dog had never abandoned their routine like this—never vanished into the forest without warning. A heavy silence clung to the towering pines, making each step feel perilous, amplifying Wade’s sense that something was very wrong.
Low-hanging branches raked at his arms, and the swish of brambles against his jeans sounded unnaturally loud. Milo’s barking came in fierce bursts one moment and stopped entirely the next, setting Wade’s nerves on edge. He paused, hearing nothing but his own labored breaths.
As he crested a small ridge, Wade’s blood ran cold: Milo stood stock-still in a moonlit clearing, eyes locked on a towering silhouette. Whatever it was loomed taller than anything Wade expected to find out here, an imposing presence that seemed terrifying. A primal fear seized him as he stood rooted to the spot.