A girl opened her eyes. Shadows danced across her vision, cast by the towering trees of a dense, ancient wood. Shafts of pale light pierced through the canopy, tracing jagged lines on the forest floor. The air was damp and heavy with the earthy scent of moss and decay.

She looked down at her hands, wrapped tightly in filthy white cloth, like makeshift bandages that had seen too many battles. They clung to her skin as if they were a part of her, impossible to remove. Her gaze traveled further—her entire body was encased in the same grimy bindings, no clothing, no hint of her own flesh beneath the layers. It was as though her identity had been swallowed by these wrappings. She reached for her face but found the same cloth there, denying her the knowledge of her own visage.

With a trembling resolve, she rose to her feet, her movements stiff, as though her body resisted her commands. She turned her head, scanning the eerie, silent woods around her. Nothing stirred, no memory surfaced. She didn’t know this place, couldn’t recall how she had come to be here, nor anything that had come before.

Then, in the distance, she noticed movement—a figure walking down a dirt path cutting through the trees. A small figure, a girl with blonde hair and striking golden eyes, wearing a red hooded cloak. She looked out of place, vibrant amidst the muted greens and browns of the forest.

Compelled by something she couldn’t name, the girl in cloth stepped through the underbrush, emerging onto the path. Her throat ached as she tried to speak, the sound coming out a coarse rasp, like dry wind scraping against stone. It hurt to try, her throat parched beyond reason, as though she hadn’t spoken in years.

The girl in the red hood screamed, startled by the sudden appearance of this tall, imposing figure. But as her wide eyes settled on the woman before her, the scream faded into silence. She blinked, her fear giving way to curiosity. "You’re really tall," the child remarked, craning her neck to look up at her.

Then, with the directness only a child could muster, she asked, "What’s your name?"

The girl wrapped in cloth could only remain silent, her voice still trapped in her parched throat.

The girl in the red hood frowned, crossing her arms. "Where are your manners?" she scolded lightly, before brightening. "Well, I’m Bonnie! People know me as the girl in a Little Red Riding Hood." She beamed as if the title were a badge of honor.

Bonnie tilted her head, studying the silent woman. "Do you want to come with me?" she asked, her golden eyes wide and sincere. "I’m bringing food to my grandma’s house. It’s dangerous to be out here alone, you know."

Bonnie leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "People have been disappearing. Ever since the Wolf’s House was burnt down after… after it was blown up." Her small face turned solemn, and her eyes flickered with fear. "My dad wouldn’t let me see what happened, but…" She shivered, unwilling to finish her thought.

Bonnie brightened again, as if shaking off the dark thoughts. "Anyway, come with me! You can stay at my grandma’s for a few days. She won’t mind!"

The girl in cloth hesitated but then nodded, her silence her only answer. Bonnie clapped her hands, delighted, and grabbed the woman’s wrapped hand, pulling her down the path with surprising energy.

The forest seemed to watch them as they walked, its shadows deepened.

The dirt road stretched before them, winding through the ancient forest like a forgotten vein, its edges swallowed by the encroaching darkness of the woods. Their footsteps were uneven—Bonnie’s light and eager, Nameless’s slow and deliberate.

It was Bonnie who broke the silence, her voice cheerful as she craned her neck to look up at the tall, silent figure beside her. "Since you don’t have a name, I’m going to call you Nameless," she declared, her golden eyes sparkling with mischief.

Nameless gave no reaction, her head tilting slightly, acknowledging the name without resistance.

Bonnie grinned wider, pleased with herself. "You’re probably wondering why I’m out here all alone, even though it’s dangerous," she said, her voice carrying a playful edge. Before Nameless could respond—not that she could—Bonnie smirked and skipped a step ahead. "I’ll show you why!"

With that, the little girl darted forward, her red hood bouncing as she ran. Nameless followed, her long, silent strides struggling to match the child’s boundless energy. They passed a rabbit’s den, the tiny creatures scurrying out of sight at the sound of their approach. A lone house came into view next, its windows boarded, its walls sagging under the weight of neglect. Further down the road, a herd of deer grazed, their heads lifting as the pair passed, ears twitching at the faint sound of Bonnie’s laughter.

And then, the forest began to change. The light grew dimmer, the air heavier, as though the trees themselves were leaning in to listen. The dirt road narrowed, swallowed by creeping shadows.

Bonnie stopped suddenly in the gloom, spinning on her heel to face Nameless. "You see," she began, her voice quieter now, reverent. "I can use magic."

The word seemed to hang in the air, vibrating with an unseen force. Nameless tilted her head, her gaze narrowing at the mention of it. Magic. The word felt wrong, like it didn’t belong, and yet… it stirred something deep within her. A dark, gnawing desire to break it.

Bonnie didn’t notice Nameless’s unease. "Magic’s rare now," she continued, her voice tinged with melancholy. "A long time ago, lots of people could use it. But the energy that flows through the world—" she waved her hand as if trying to grasp something intangible "—it’s different now. Dull. Like it’s been eaten away."

Bonnie shrugged, her expression brightening. "But I don’t care!" she exclaimed, pointing both hands up toward the canopy. "Watch this, Nameless! Look! Look! Look!"

Nameless’s gaze followed Bonnie’s hands, her expression unreadable beneath the cloth. Bonnie’s fingers glowed faintly, and then, in an instant, a blinding light erupted from her palms. It illuminated the forest in a harsh, unnatural glow, casting jagged shadows across the trees. The light was wild and raw, and though it faded quickly, its intensity left a lasting mark—blackened tree bark smoldering faintly where it had struck.

Nameless stared at the light, her hand twitching as if compelled to reach for it. It was like staring into the heart of something fragile yet powerful, and the desire to break it coursed through her veins like venom. Her hand stretched forward, trembling, before the light flickered and died.

Bonnie was bent over, hands on her knees, panting heavily. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she looked up at Nameless with a sheepish smile. "Normally, I can do way more," she said, her voice breathless. "But I… uh… might’ve overdone it a bit just now."

Bonnie covered her mouth with her hand, shaking her head slightly. "I wasn't showing off… or anything… haha…"

Nameless looked at her with an expression that seemed like it didn't believe her.

Bonnie puffed out her chest. "Was not! That was nothing—I was barely trying!" she insisted, her pride refusing to waver.

Nameless nodded slowly, letting the child have her victory. Bonnie beamed, grabbing her hand and pulling her back toward the road. "Come on!”

As they walked away, Nameless paused, her head turning back toward the deeper shadows of the forest. Something stirred there, something unseen but felt—a presence that gnawed at the edges of her thoughts. For a moment, she lingered, but then Bonnie’s small hand tugged insistently at hers, and the feeling faded like a forgotten dream.

Nameless let herself be pulled along, though the sense of being watched lingered, a whisper at the back of her mind.

Bonnie glanced over her shoulder at Nameless, her golden eyes glinting in the dim light.

"Grandma’s house is still a bit far," Bonnie said, her tone casual but tinged with thought. "We might need to stop somewhere for the night."

Nameless offered no reply, her silence an ever-present weight between them.

Bonnie continued, pointing ahead with a bounce in her step. "There’s a lake up ahead, just a few kilometers or so. We can rest there tonight!" Her voice was cheerful, almost singsong, as if the prospect of sleeping in the wild excited her.

Nameless nodded again, her gaze steady on the child. Together, they walked as the sun began its slow retreat, dipping lower and lower until the sky burned with hues of crimson and gold. Shadows stretched long and thin across the road, and soon, the vibrant red gave way to the inky black of night.

Bonnie held up a hand, and a small light flickered to life at her fingertip, casting a warm glow that pushed back the encroaching darkness. She smiled, proud of her small feat. "I’m not scared of the dark," she declared, her voice carrying a note of defiance. "I’ve been training myself not to be scared!" She glanced at Nameless, grinning. "And I won’t fall asleep either! I’ve been practicing staying up late!"

Nameless’s only response was a slow blink, that Bonnie doesn't really seem to take un-kind to, in fact, she's a little joyful that Nameless didn't judge her.

Eventually, the trees began to thin, their gnarled branches giving way to open space. The lake emerged before them, its surface like polished glass, reflecting the full moon and the stars scattered across the night sky. The trees around its edges seemed to bow away, leaving the water untouched, sacred in its stillness.

Bonnie exhaled sharply, a sound that could have been relief or fear. Nameless tilted her head, observing the child. She reached out and tapped Bonnie’s shoulder gently, snapping the girl out of her thoughts.

Bonnie yelped and jumped, spinning around. "Don’t scare me like that!" she cried, her cheeks flushed. Then, realizing what she’d said, she straightened up, planting her hands on her hips. "Not that I was scared or anything!"

Nameless tilted her head slightly, her silent stare unnerving enough to make Bonnie squirm.

"Come on!" Bonnie said quickly, darting toward the lake. She dropped her small bag under a tree and flopped onto the soft grass with a dramatic sigh. "The moon is so beautiful tonight," she murmured, her voice soft and dreamy.

She looked up at Nameless and patted the ground beside her. "Come sit!"

Nameless hesitated before lowering herself onto the grass. Her movements were careful, almost hesitant, as if she feared the earth might reject her presence.

Bonnie propped herself up on one elbow, staring up at Nameless with wide, curious eyes. "How’d you get so tall?" she asked, her voice filled with wonder. When Nameless didn’t answer, Bonnie laughed softly. "Right, you can’t talk." She paused, her gaze lingering on Nameless’s hair, silver and luminous in the moonlight. "Your hair is so pretty. It’s so smooth and silky. And your eyes…" Bonnie tilted her head. "They’re so bright and red. Like little jewels."

Nameless’s gaze remained steady, her silence heavy, yet Bonnie didn’t seem to mind.

The girl yawned, her bravado from earlier fading. "You should sleep," Bonnie said, her voice quieter now. "I’ll keep watch…" Her words trailed off as another yawn escaped her, her eyelids drooping despite her best efforts.

Before long, Bonnie’s breathing slowed, her small body curling slightly against the cool night air as she drifted into sleep.

Nameless stayed still for a moment, watching the child’s peaceful face. Then, carefully, she reached out and pulled Bonnie closer, holding her protectively. The moon watched over them, its pale light wrapping the unlikely pair in a silver cocoon.

Eventually, Nameless allowed herself to close her eyes, her grip on Bonnie firm as sleep claimed her too. The forest around them remained quiet, though in the distance, the faintest rustle stirred in the trees.

There was a stranger.

A stranger.

 The air around it was thick with an unspoken dread, the kind that clung to skin and chilled the bone. 

It couldn’t see clearly—too dark, too many shadows—but its senses were sharp, its vision tinged with red.

Monster, its body heaving with every breath, drool slipping from its mouth to stain the earth below.

Claws like curved daggers flexed, raking the bark of a nearby tree. A low growl rumbled deep in its throat.

Belua.

The word echoed in its mind, over and over, a mantra of hatred and hunger.

Belua.

Belua.

Belua.

Belua.

It stopped, its nostrils flaring as a scent caught its attention. It sniffed the air, head tilting as its red gaze locked onto a clearing ahead. There they were—the girl in the red hood and the tall, silent figure cloaked in white.

It recognized her.

The little girl.

That little girl.

The one in the red hood. Friends with him.

That boy.

Its snarl deepened, teeth bared as rage bubbled to the surface. Memories of fire, of pain, of a house consumed in flames.

The boy had done it. He’d blamed the beast, pointed at it, as though its appearance was proof enough.

Die Rache.

Die Rache.

Die Rache.

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The beast trembled with anticipation, saliva pouring freely now, a flood of fury and hunger. Without another thought, it lunged forward, massive and silent, its form a blur of shadow and fury.

Nameless opened her eyes.

Shadows danced across her vision, cast by the towering trees of a dense, ancient wood. Shafts of pale light pierced through the canopy, tracing jagged lines on the forest floor. The air was damp and heavy with the earthy scent of moss and decay.

She looked down at her hands, wrapped tightly in filthy white cloth, like makeshift bandages that had seen too many battles. They clung to her skin as if they were a part of her, impossible to remove. Her gaze traveled further—her entire body was encased in the same grimy bindings, no clothing, no hint of her own flesh beneath the layers. It was as though her identity had been swallowed by these wrappings. She reached for her face but found the same cloth there, denying her the knowledge of her own visage.

With a trembling resolve, she rose to her feet, her movements stiff, as though her body resisted her commands.

Why was she here again? At the start.

The question lingered, unanswered, as she took a hesitant step forward. Then another. She walked aimlessly, her thoughts a swirl of confusion and fragments of something she couldn’t quite grasp.

The woods held their breath, the silence stretching, deepening.

Nameless saw her.

A girl with golden hair and golden eyes, wearing a little red riding hood.

Nameless paused, her red eyes narrowing as memories—or perhaps dreams—flashed in her mind. The events ahead, Bonnie’s words, the dark woods... it was as if she had already lived this moment. She chalked it up to a dream, something that predicted what was to come, though the thought gnawed at her.

Still, she stepped out of the woods again, and just as before, the little girl screamed.

Bonnie’s wide eyes stared up at Nameless, the initial fear giving way to amazement. “You’re so tall!” she exclaimed, her golden gaze sparkling.

“What’s your name?” Bonnie asked, her voice curious and kind.

Nameless remained silent. She couldn’t answer even if she wanted to.

Bonnie tilted her head, then smiled warmly. “Well, my name’s Bonnie! But since you didn’t tell me yours, I’ll call you Nameless.”

She clapped her hands together, pleased with herself. “So, Nameless, do you want to come with me? I’m heading to my Grandma’s house.”

Nameless nodded, and before Bonnie could react, she grabbed Bonnie’s hand and started walking.

“Whoa, hey! You’re eager!” Bonnie shouted, stumbling slightly before finding her footing.

As they walked, Nameless noticed that Bonnie didn’t seem to remember anything from the events she had dreamed of. It made no sense, so Nameless dismissed the dream as nothing more than a figment of her imagination.

Bonnie looked up at Nameless and pointed at her clasped hand. “You know how to play I Spy?”

Nameless shook her head.

Bonnie laughed. “It’s really easy. I’ll show you! I spy with my little eye... something green.”

Nameless blinked, unsure of how to respond. Bonnie stopped, letting go of Nameless’ hand and showing her how to point with a finger.

“Okay, now you try! Guess what I spied!”

Nameless raised her hand and slowly pointed at the trees surrounding them.

Bonnie’s eyes lit up. “Correct!” she shouted.

Nameless tilted her head, unsure of how to respond to the praise, but Bonnie didn’t seem to mind. “You’re really good at this!” Bonnie declared before grabbing Nameless’ hand again. “Come on, I want to show you something!”

They walked past a rabbit den, where the rabbits were just starting to wake, their noses twitching at the morning air. They passed a lone house, its windows dark and shuttered, and a herd of deer resting on the ground, their ears flicking lazily.

Eventually, they reached a darker part of the forest. The light from the canopy grew dim, and the air seemed heavier here.

Bonnie stopped and turned to Nameless, her expression serious for the first time. “These woods are extremely dangerous. That’s why I learned magic. Wanna see?”

Nameless tilted her head, curious.

Bonnie grinned and raised her hand. A small orb of light appeared, illuminating the shadows around them. “I can use light magic,” she said proudly. “And dangerous magic, too!”

She summoned a spear of light in her hand, its tip glowing with an intense brightness. With a sharp throw, she launched it at a nearby tree. The spear pierced the bark, quivering for a moment before detonating, sending splinters flying in every direction.

Bonnie turned back to Nameless, hands on her hips. “Magic is what gives the world life. It’s special. But lately... it feels dull, like it’s fading away.”

She hesitated, her golden eyes dimming for a brief moment. Then she shook her head, smiling again. “But I don’t care! I’ll still use it!”

Bonnie grabbed Nameless’ hand once more, tugging her forward. “We’re going to my Grandma’s house, but it’s pretty far. So we’ll stop at a lake a few kilometers ahead and sleep there.”

Nameless nodded silently as they continued their journey, Bonnie’s chatter filling the heavy air.

The sunlight filtered softly through the thick canopy as Nameless and Bonnie walked side by side. The dirt path crunched beneath their feet, and the occasional chirp of birds punctuated the quiet. Bonnie, as usual, filled the silence with her voice, her tone light but tinged with a subtle unease.

“You know, every week I visit my grandma,” Bonnie began, her voice steady as she glanced up at Nameless. “Grandpa died seven months ago. It’s been hard for her since then. She gets so lonely.”

Nameless tilted her head, her silent gesture encouraging Bonnie to continue.

Bonnie hesitated for a moment, her fingers tightening around the hem of her red hood. “She’s been getting better, but... something happened recently.” Her golden eyes flicked toward Nameless, as if seeking comfort in her unspoken presence.

Nameless tilted her head again, curiosity clear in her gaze.

Bonnie sighed, looking down at the path. “It was around the same time that magic started feeling... dull. There was this dark lightning that struck out of nowhere on a completely sunny day. Just one bolt, but it felt... wrong. Everything since then has been grey. Lifeless, Even”

Her voice faltered, growing quieter. “Grandma started acting strange after that. She’d say things like she could see Grandpa again. But then she’d say it wasn’t him. That it was coming for her. To take her...”

Bonnie trailed off, her voice trembling. Her eyes shimmered, caught between holding back tears and forcing a brave face. She looked up at Nameless, forcing a shaky smile. “If anything bad ever happens to me... would you save me?”

Nameless nodded without hesitation.

Bonnie’s smile brightened, her mood lifting instantly. “I knew you’d say that!” She skipped ahead a step before gesturing for Nameless to follow.

As the afternoon stretched on, they reached a lake. Its waters shimmered, reflecting the sun’s golden light. Bonnie paused, squinting at the sky. “Hmm, it’s still early. We should keep walking. Maybe there’s a better spot to rest ahead.”

Nameless nodded, and they continued.

Bonnie’s chatter resumed. “Oh, I have a friend named Luke. Everyone calls him the Boy Who Cried Wolf. He’s a real troublemaker. Back then, he’d shout about wolves coming to the village just to scare people, but no one believed him when a real wolf came and ate all the sheep.”

Bonnie’s voice softened. “But recently, he’s been kind of a hero. There were these disappearances at night, and he kept watch. One night, he cried out that the wolf was the one behind it all. And guess what? When they went to the wolf’s house, there were bodies.”

Her tone darkened slightly. “They burned the house down, with the wolf inside. Luke’s been a lot more serious since then. But... people are still disappearing. Not as many, but it’s still happening. Makes you wonder...”

The sun dipped below the horizon, and the forest grew darker. At last, they came upon a small clearing. Atop a gentle hill lay a patch of soft daisies, glowing faintly under the moonlight.

Bonnie gasped, her golden eyes lighting up. “Oh my gosh, daisies! I love these!” She ran up the hill, throwing herself into the flowers and laughing. “They’re so soft! Come on, Nameless, lie down with me!”

Nameless climbed the hill, her steps quiet and deliberate. She lay down beside Bonnie, who immediately snuggled close.

“Your hair,” Bonnie murmured, brushing a strand of Nameless’ silver locks. “It’s so beautiful. Like the moon placed itself on your head. And your eyes—they’re like blood moons, like they Envision themselves in you, Get it?”

Nameless gently patted Bonnie’s head in response.

Bonnie yawned, her words slowing. “You should sleep. I’ll keep watch and protect you, my friend.”

Nameless smiled faintly, brushing her hand over Bonnie’s eyes and closing them. Bonnie fell asleep almost instantly, her breathing soft and steady.

Nameless stayed awake, her red eyes scanning the clearing. The woods around them were quiet, but her instincts kept her alert. Something deep within her resonated—a promise she didn’t remember making, yet one she would honor. She would protect this girl.

For hours, she kept watch, her body tense and still. But as the night deepened and the silence held, her vigilance wavered. Certain that nothing would come, she finally allowed herself to drift into sleep.

Nameless's eyes fluttered open, the weight of darkness pressing in on her as she lay in the woods. A faint light pierced through the canopy, casting rays that sliced through the heavy gloom. She felt... wrong, like the world was turned upside down, and her body was foreign to her.

She glanced down at her hands—dirty, wrapped in white rolling cloths. They seemed to be a part of her, yet she couldn't remove them. Her fingers tried to tug at the cloths, but they wouldn't budge. She pulled them up her arms, but the fabric clung to her skin like it belonged there. She could see the cloth covering her entire body—no clothes, just this tattered material binding her.

She didn't know what her face looked like. The sensation of it was unfamiliar, as though she had never seen herself before, and the cloth prevented her from knowing. She tried to move, but everything felt like it was happening to someone else.

Again.

She was back here, in the woods, in this place. At the start.

And then she saw Bonnie. She stepped forward, reaching out, but stopped herself. The feeling was immediate, something twisted inside her. It was wrong, so wrong. She froze, her hand trembling. Something in her, something deep and primal, knew this moment was different. This Bonnie wasn’t the same. Something was off, something dark had shifted.

Bonnie continued forward, unaware of Nameless’s hesitation. Nameless followed her from the shadows, keeping her distance, not seeking her company, not seeking friendship. She was following Bonnie for another reason now.

Bonnie stopped abruptly, her head turning, her golden eyes narrowing as if she sensed something. "I know you're there," she said, her voice firm. Then, as if daring the presence to reveal itself, she called out, "Come out!"

Nameless stayed hidden, still, the darkness her ally.

Bonnie's expression shifted, her patience wearing thin. "You leave me with no choice," she muttered, and suddenly, an orb of light flickered to life in her hand. It pulsed with energy before shooting toward Nameless.

The blast was instant, and agony tore through Nameless's body. The force of the light melted her skin away, and her face felt as if it were being burned alive. The heat, the pain, the sharp tearing of muscle—it all mixed together in a cacophony of suffering. Her limbs were twisted, her body ripped apart, yet she remained conscious.

She collapsed to the ground, the front of her body charred, her arm blasted off entirely. The other arm, just a bare skeleton, the muscles stripped from it, was barely clinging to her frame.

She was still alive.

Bonnie emerged from the bushes, cutting through the foliage with ease. She stood over Nameless, her expression unreadable. “Who are you?” she asked, the question stark, cold.

Nameless tried to speak, to answer, but once again, her voice failed her. No words could escape her, no matter how hard she tried.

Bonnie’s eyes flicked to Nameless, a hint of irritation crossing her face. “You won’t speak, huh?” she said. "Then I guess that means you’re not a good person." Bonnie paused, her voice growing even more distant. "I’ll just call you... You."

A spear of light began to form in Bonnie’s hand, the energy crackling. She raised it, ready to strike. But Nameless’s gaze shifted. There, behind Bonnie, something moved—something far more dangerous.

Her instincts screamed, and she did what she could. She pointed, weakly, her gaze locking onto the danger. “I spy,” she whispered under her breath, her voice raspy and her throat burning after speaking just two words.

Bonnie spun, startled, her grip tightening around her spear. There was nothing but darkness and shadows, but then it emerged.

Belua.

Belua.

Belua.

Bonnie screamed as she was dragged away, the force of it shaking the trees around them. The ground shook with the sound of massive limbs tearing through the forest, the crash of trees falling, blood spraying like rain. The air itself seemed to burn.

Nameless could only watch as Bonnie was pulled away, her voice fading into the distance. Her screams, and the horrifying sounds of destruction, reverberated in the woods. It felt like the entire world was collapsing.

And then, from the shadows, something returned.

A figure approached, dark, a presence too immense to ignore.

Nameless’s eyes widened as she saw Bonnie. Bonnie’s red hood was torn, her clothes shredded. Blood stained her, and one of her fingers was gone. She looked down at Nameless, her golden eyes hollow, her body broken.

“I... I want to thank you,” Bonnie said, her voice strained, weak. She fell beside Nameless, her hand creating another spear of light. She threw it beside Nameless, the explosion that followed rattling the ground.

Bonnie collapsed on top of Nameless, her breathing shallow. “I wish... I wish to die with a friend,” she whispered. “Forgive me for attacking...”

The spear detonated.

Again.

Nameless opened her eyes to the familiar woods, the dark shadows stretching out endlessly, broken only by thin rays of sunlight cutting through the thick canopy above. The light flickered as if it were alive, dancing in rhythm with the swaying leaves.

She stood still, her bandaged feet sinking slightly into the damp earth, and looked ahead. She saw Bonnie again, the girl in the red hood, skipping through the forest path. Nameless stepped forward, instinctively wanting to call out, but stopped herself. 

It felt wrong, unnatural even, to interfere. Her body hesitated as if bound by something invisible. So instead, Nameless ducked behind the nearest tree, pressing her back against the rough bark. She waited in the silence, letting Bonnie pass. When the girl was far enough, Nameless stepped out and began following her from a distance.

Bonnie’s journey was aimless, it seemed. She walked with a carefree stride until she stopped in the middle of the path. Dropping to her knees, Bonnie picked up small pebbles and started arranging them into little patterns on the dirt road. She hummed softly, her voice carrying through the stillness of the forest.

Nameless stood there, hidden in the shadows, watching. A pang of sadness welled up inside her. Bonnie was alone, utterly alone, playing with rocks on the forest floor as if the world outside didn't exist. Nameless clenched her hands, the bandages tightening with the motion, and sighed.  

Her gaze shifted upward. The trees here were tall, their branches twisting into intricate shapes, almost inviting her to climb. Nameless reached for the lowest branch, her movements precise, and pulled herself up. She climbed higher until she found a sturdy spot to rest. From there, she watched Bonnie play, the child’s red hood a stark contrast to the muted greens and browns of the woods.  

The stillness lulled her, and she allowed herself a moment to close her eyes.

When she opened them again, the sun had shifted. Afternoon painted the forest in fiery hues, red light bleeding through the leaves. Nameless blinked, disoriented. Time had slipped away, stolen by something she couldn’t place. The shift felt wrong. It wasn’t just the light—it was the air, thick and heavy, as though the forest itself was holding its breath.

Bonnie was gone.

Panic struck Nameless as she jumped down from the tree. Her landing was silent, her body light as a whisper. She took off, moving quickly down the path. She followed the faint imprints of Bonnie’s boots in the dirt, but as she progressed, the world seemed... changed.  

The rabbit den she passed earlier was no longer the peaceful burrow she remembered. Blood stained the ground, and the small bodies of rabbits lay scattered. Their necks were twisted unnaturally, and claw marks etched deep into the soil. One rabbit’s head had been torn clean off, left alone like some grim token.

Nameless moved faster.  

The lone house came into view next, its windows dark and lifeless. The door bore deep gouges, as if something had tried desperately to claw its way inside. The marks were fresh, the splintered wood reeking faintly of rot. She stepped closer, peering through a crack in the door, but there was nothing—no life, no warmth, just the eerie stillness of abandonment.

She pressed on, her feet carrying her to the edge of a clearing. The corpses of deer hung from the branches of trees, their legs dangling lifelessly. The bodies weren’t eaten or even torn apart for sustenance—they were arranged, as if displayed. The smell of decay filled the air, sharp and overwhelming. Flies buzzed around the scene, their droning a morbid symphony.  

The afternoon light seemed darker now, tinged with crimson. The shadows lengthened as Nameless stepped into the darker part of the woods. The path narrowed, overgrown and suffocating, and the only illumination came from faint, bloody rays of light that barely penetrated the canopy.

Then she heard it.

A Stranger, it came from everywhere and nowhere. It echoed, slipping through the trees and curling around her like smoke.  

“Prey... that little girl is my prey. Leave...”  

Nameless froze, her head darting around. The voice was impossible to pinpoint. It passed through the air like a shifting wind, moving from one direction to the next.

The forest reacted violently. Trees snapped, their branches breaking with loud cracks. Twigs flew past her, landing in sharp bursts like tiny missiles. The air grew thicker, oppressive. A sharp, metallic scent invaded her senses—blood.  

Her body stiffened at the smell, not in fear or disgust, but something else. It was a primal feeling, something raw and unbidden. Her fingers twitched involuntarily, and her breath quickened. She shook her head violently, forcing herself to focus, to suppress the strange sensation.  

She began running. The darkness grew deeper, the voice following her with every step.  

“The girl in the red hood is mine.”  

Die Rache.

Die Rache.

Die Rache.

Nameless pushed forward, her legs burning with effort. She burst through the darkness, emerging into the open woods once more. The air lifted slightly, the world brightening just enough for her to see.  

Bonnie was there, just ahead of her, walking with her familiar, carefree stride. Relief washed over Nameless. She raised a hand, ready to call out, to reach for the girl.  

But before she could make a sound, something snapped around her neck, sharp and jagged. Blood dripped down, and trickled past her neck.

Nameless was yanked backward with an inhuman force, dragged back into the suffocating darkness. She clawed at the ground until her fingers started to bleed, yet it found no purchase. Her bandaged form vanished into the void, leaving no trace. She tried to scream, to call for help, but no sound came. Her voice was as silent as death.  

Bonnie stopped, sensing something. She turned, her golden eyes scanning the path. “Is someone there?” she called out, her voice tentative.  

There was no reply.  

Seeing nothing but the empty trail behind her, Bonnie shrugged and continued walking, humming softly to herself.