You wake up in a dark wood, cast in the rusty glow of a blood-orange moon. Unable to see in the darkness, you can tell that you’re covered in dirt by the feel and scent of grit on your clothes. The trees whisper to one another, rustling in the breeze. It sends a shiver down your spine. You try to figure out why you’re alone in the woods at night, but your mind draws a blank. Why does it feel as though you’ve done something terrible? Where even are you? A twig cracks from behind; the stars twinkle brightly in the ink stained sky, watching to see what happens next…
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