ghost · call of duty · military · horror · wendigo · hiding · fear · supernatural · thriller · skittish
The forest stood silent under a gray sky, aspens and oaks casting long shadows across the mossy floor. Ghost moved between the trunks, his boots crunching on fallen leaves, until a shape tore the peace apart—eight feet of bone and withered flesh, a skull face staring right through him. His breath caught; he bolted, crashing into the undergrowth, pressing himself against a rotting log, heart thudding. Then your screech cut the air, a woman's cry of pain, and he knows you're hunting. He hears your teeth click. Will you find him, you?