Surviving the Beast

The cold bit deep into my skin, sharper than anything I had felt before, as if winter itself had decided to settle into my bones. Each breath I took burned my lungs, the air so icy it felt like it scraped down my throat, and still I forced myself forward through the thick snow. It came up nearly to my knees in places, slowing me down with every step as my boots sank deep. The leather had long since given up trying to keep the cold out, and I could no longer feel my toes, but I ignored it. I had to. Turning back now meant going home with nothing, and going home with nothing meant another night of hunger.

I tightened my grip around my bow, flexing my stiff fingers as best I could while my eyes scanned the forest ahead. The woods were quiet, far too quiet, the kind of silence that pressed in around you and made you feel like something wasn’t right. Everyone knew these woods were forbidden. No one came this far in, not unless they were desperate enough to risk whatever lurked beyond the trees. And I was.

My stepfather had made sure of that.

Whatever little we had left had disappeared into drink and wasted nights in the village, leaving nothing behind for me but an empty home and the growing ache of hunger. The thought of him made something bitter rise in my throat, but I pushed it aside. Thinking about him wouldn’t fill my stomach. Food would.

A small movement ahead caught my eye, so small that I might have missed it if I hadn’t already been watching so carefully. I stilled, my body going quiet as my focus sharpened. Beneath a low bush, something shifted again, just enough to give it away.

A rabbit.

Relief washed over me, easing some of the tightness in my chest as I slowly reached back and pulled an arrow from my quiver. I set it against the bowstring, my movements careful despite the cold making my fingers clumsy. I drew the string back, steadying my breath as I focused only on the small creature ahead of me.

The rabbit moved slightly, stepping just enough into the open.

I released the arrow.

It flew fast and clean, striking true. The rabbit dropped into the snow, still, its pale grey fur already blending into the white around it. For a moment, I just stood there, staring, letting the relief settle into me.

I wasn’t going to starve tonight.

I made my way toward it, pulling my feet free from the snow with each step until I reached it. I crouched down, pulling the arrow free before tying the rabbit to my belt with a strip of leather from my satchel. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Enough to keep me going.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose as I lifted my head and looked around, my eyes scanning the trees more carefully now. Snow clung to the branches, the dark trunks stretching high and still, but something about it felt wrong now. Like I had stepped into somethings terratory.

I swallowed, tightening my grip on my bow as I forced myself to move again, turning back the way I came. The rabbit swung lightly at my side, leaving a trail of blood staining the snow.

It followed me.

With every step I took, it pressed closer, settling deep into my chest until my breathing grew uneven. I told myself it was nothing. Just the cold. Just my imagination. But no matter how many times I tried to convince myself, it didn’t go away.

Then I heard it...a crunch behind me.

My body went still, my breath catching as my heart skipped hard against my ribs. Slowly, I turned my head, my eyes scanning the snow behind me.

Nothing.

Only my footprints trailing back the way I had come.

I stared for a moment longer before turning forward again, forcing myself to keep walking. My grip tightened slightly around my bow, my senses sharpening as I listened.

Another crunch followed. Closer this time. My heart began to pound harder, the sound of it filling my ears as unease turned into something sharper. Fear.

I turned fully this time, and saw it.

Movement.Fast...too fast.

It slipped between the trees like a shadow, too large to be anything normal, too quick for my eyes to properly catch. My breath caught in my throat as something deep and instinctive told me exactly what I needed to know.

I was being hunted. I ran.

The snow dragged at my legs, slowing me down as I forced myself forward, my breath coming out in sharp, uneven bursts, but I didn’t stop. Behind me, the sound followed. Heavy and fast. Getting closer.

A low, deep growl tore through the air, vibrating through the forest and straight into my chest. It wasn’t just chasing me...It was tracking me.

My mind raced, panic clawing its way through me as I pushed harder, my body screaming in protest. The rabbit at my side bounced heavily against my hip, the weight of it suddenly unbearable as a desperate thought flashed through my mind.

Drop it.

Maybe it only wanted the meat.

My hand moved, fingers brushing against the fur, ready to untie it.

But I couldn’t. Two days without food, and this was the first thing I had managed to catch. If I dropped it, I would have nothing.

I clenched my jaw and kept running.

Branches snapped behind me, closer now, too close, and the sound sent a surge of panic through me that forced more speed into my legs than I thought I had left. My chest burned, my lungs aching with every breath as I pushed forward, my only focus the edge of the forest.

The fence.

If I could just reach the fence—The trees began to thin. Hope flared.

I stumbled forward, nearly losing my footing as I broke through the last line of trees and saw it ahead of me.

The fence.

Relief hit me so hard it almost made my legs give out beneath me.

I forced myself forward, grabbing onto the wood as I pulled myself up, my boots slipping against the frozen surface as I struggled to climb. My hands shook, my body weak and exhausted, but fear drove me harder than anything else.

I threw myself over, hitting the ground hard on the other side, the impact sending pain through my already aching body.

I turned—Just as something slammed into the fence behind me.

The force of it shook the wood, a deep, furious growl tearing through the air as whatever had been chasing me collided with the barrier. My heart pounded as I scrambled back, my eyes locked on the fence as I tried to see through the gaps between the wood.

And for a brief moment—I did.

A massive shape moved just beyond the line, too large, too dark, its form shifting between the trees. A pair of eyes caught what little light there was, glowing faintly as they fixed on me, watching.

The growl came again, lower this time, more controlled, but no less dangerous.

I didn’t wait.

I turned and ran toward the cottage, my legs barely holding me up as I pushed through the snow, my breath coming in sharp gasps. I didn’t stop until the familiar shape of home came into view, until I could stumble toward the door and pull it open, falling inside with shaking hands.

Only then did I dare to breathe.

But even as I stood there, my chest rising and falling too fast, one thought refused to leave me.

The fence had stopped it.