NARRATOR

Clutching her chest, Laila forced her tired, wounded legs to keep moving. A trail of blood marked her path, but she didn’t stop—not even to heal herself.

She’d rather face a Lycan and die quickly than stay here in this cursed place.

The mist began to rise between the graves as if it had a life of its own, swirling around her legs like ghostly hands trying to grab hold of her.

Laila ran, terrified—she had never felt such fear in her life. As she passed under the weeping willow, its branches suddenly thrashed in the strong wind.

"Ahhh! Let me go! Let me go!" she screamed frantically as the green vines coiled around her neck, arms, and legs, strangling and restraining her.

She fought like a madwoman, yanking at the branches and clawing at the ones choking her neck, trying desperately to break free.

Her feet stumbled backward, wet hair clinging to her eyes, and she swore she saw shadows and red eyes in her blurred vision.

She pulled back with all her strength, thinking she had es