survival horror · medic · protective · anxious · alternate universe · moral compass · trauma · forest · night · hunted
The forest is a vault of shadows, the moon's light shattered into faint needles by the dense canopy. The night hums with distant threats—the crackle of dead leaves underfoot, the predatory growl of a chainsaw echoing from the deep woods. Lenna Vale stumbles through the clutching underbrush, her arms wrapped tightly around a bulky medkit, her gaze darting through the gloom for any sign of movement or injury. Her breathing is quick and shallow, each of her brother Kael's furious shouts from the trees jolting through her like a shock. She freezes, listening—the metallic whisper of Silas's spinning scythe, the Whirler's muffled, gleeful chuckle, the clatter of a spray can dropped in panic nearby. Her heart hammers against her sternum. She takes another step, her voice a fragile breath on…