Yvette's felt as if her head was at the precipice of crumpling in the Wraith's hand. Her vision was snuffed out by the black palm of her abhorrent abductor. Each punch, kick, and scratch she threw at the Wraith elicited no response from it as it continued its trek through the woods. Yvette only knew she was in the woods now when her arms and legs would occasionally bounce off a crooked tree trunk. 

"LET ME GO!" She yelled, kicking at what she thought was its body in the vain hope it would drop her. 

With her vision blocked and effort focused on escaping the Wraith's grasp, Yvette wasn't sure what direction they'd gone in nor how long she'd been fighting. The Wraith stopped, sending Yvette into a brief ragdoll state and momentarily ending her fighting. It stood on the old abandoned path; the only movement was a desperate woman's vain and desperate kicking. With little effort, the Wraith tossed her onto the ground. Yvette looked up and looked directly into the black eyes of the Wraith. It stared back, lifeless and expressionless.

Yvette scrambled on her back, trying to put as much distance as possible between her and the Wraith. The further back she crawled, the more of the Wraith's figure was obscured by fog while it continued to stand and watch her. The sound of crumbling leaves shot through the fog as the Wraith took one slow step toward her. Yvette's heart started pounding within her chest as if it was trying to break free from its constraints and escape this hell. After another long step, Yvette's scrambled movements became more wild and desperate. 

Yvette quickly dragged herself off the ground and ran into the shrouded woods. Don't look back, don't look back were the only words running through her head as she bolted. A black figure shrouded in fog watched her through her fogged surroundings, hidden at the edge of her vision.

The only path left for the sellswords was deeper into their host's home. Not even the rays of the midday sun could penetrate through the Wraith's unholy fog, only able to illuminate the shrouded woodland. The twisted trees watched as silent heralds of their master, bearing the Wraith's wrathful claw marks on their trunks. The deeper the sellswords went, the more intense the stench of death became. First, it was the strewn remains of small animals whose limbs were torn off one by one. Further in, the shredded messes of eviscerated deer and sheep cluttered the fallen leaves and stained the moss-covered rocks with dried blood. The wolves and bears that once maintained the woodland's natural balance had fallen victim to the man-made nightmare which now held dominion.

The three of them crossed over a shallow stream, gently running through the forest as if it was blissfully unaware of what had become of it. They marched silently, submerging themselves in the oppressive, lifeless silence surrounding them. Niklas and Marc surveilled the clouded forest, watching each other's and Amira's backs, and Amira kept to the front, navigating them through a shrouded horizon. 

This spot feels different, like there is something special here, something wrong was the thought that ran through Niklas's mind as the three marched forward. The fallen, decaying leaves had a rhythmic crunch beneath his boot, which strangely helped quell the slowly growing pit in his stomach. It was familiar, ordinary, perhaps the only normal thing left in the inescapable hell he was in now.

Niklas took another step forward, though it was silent instead of the pleasant crunching sound he expected. His foot was slightly elevated, standing on something soft but firm. The smell of rotting flesh hit him first, followed by the buzzing of feasting flies. That pit began to claw at him once again, urging him to look away or that would be him. The fog shifted around his foot, revealing the top of a paw covered in black fur with five curled claws at its tip.

"Poor thing didn't deserve to die like that," Amira muttered quietly, just loud enough to be heard by Marc and Niklas. 

Niklas stood up and walked over to the sound of her voice. When her silhouette came into his view, what she was staring at finally came into view. Cloaked in the fog was the front half of a young bear cub, its lifeless face frozen in its final moments of torment and agony. Its sibling's body lay next to it, with its stomach ripped open with one vicious slash. Maggots wriggled throughout the corpses, unbothered to be feasting on the flesh of something so young.

This thing kills for the simple pleasure of it; I don't think it has any motivation other than that, Niklas thought to himself. Bears could maybe threaten it, but for every other torn-up animal, what did they do to deserve their fate? Was living within the domain of the Wraith enough to warrant their punishment? 

"Niklas, Amira, I think I found the missing lumbermen." Marc called out. Laid out in front of him was a macabre display of a man's final moments. On a tree was a severed hand punctured through the palm by a sharpened branch, the fingers lifelessly curled inwards. Spayed out beneath the towering tree was a headless corpse of a man, missing one hand and limply grasping an axe in another. Chunks of flesh and hair of varying sizes were sprayed along the ground. The grizzly sight only confirmed Niklas's previous observations.

We're its favorite victims. Niklas squinted into the fog and could make out another shape at the base of a tree. A few steps forward, Niklas could see a woman's body, her right forearm was ripped off, and her skin was pale from blood loss. 

It's Sabine, the one whose arm was left at Paulette's home, Niklas remembered. 'The Wraith wants Paulette to be scared and paranoid for living at the edge of its domain. It was with this a realization dawned on him. The Wraith wasn't waiting for a moment to ambush them; if it wanted to, it had plenty of opportunities to do so. 

"It wanted us to see this. It's trying to terrorize us the same way it's been doing to Paulette." Niklas said.

"I think your right," Marc said with a heavy sigh. "It could've attacked us at any moment. I think it's hiding out there, watching us."

Niklas looked away from the woman's corpse and out into the fog. A weak gust of wind blew through the woods, gently shaking the thin tree branches and stirring the Wraith's fog. Through the swaying leaves, Niklas heard something else, something that didn't belong. 

The sound of ruffling leaves and snapping twigs drew their attention toward the clouded horizon. The sounds were rapid and inconsistent, like someone was frantically running through the woods toward them.

"Hello! Is someone out there?" A woman screamed out from the fog.

"How did they-" Amira began to say before being cut off.

"Over here!" Marc shouted, waving his arms in the fog, hoping the unknown woman could see them.

The panicked footsteps grew louder as the woman got closer to them. Niklas could faintly make out her silhouette through the fog.

"Niklas, get the lantern!!" Marc commanded. Niklas did as he asked, raising the still-lit lantern for the panicked woman.

Over the woman's footsteps, a cry could be heard, one of a man in immense pain. A second cry of suffering could be heard, this one of a woman. More anguished pleads and screams of suffering joined in, creating a cacophony of agony that overwhelmed the woodland. The screams got louder, mixing into an inhuman roar that drowned out all other sounds. Marc and Amira drew their swords and ran toward the woman while Niklas followed just behind them. The woman was within a few meters of them, close enough to make out her brown linen shirt and long blonde hair.

"We're right here. Come on!!" Marc called out.

The woman passed Sabine's corpse; eyes squarely focused on the sellswords in front of her. Her face was a mix of terror and a modicum of hope that she may finally be safe. Through her struggles to catch her breath, she tried to call out once more to them. Before a word could be uttered, the hulking silhouette of the Wraith suddenly appeared behind her, its hands leading it as the monster thrust itself toward her. The Wraith's claws cut through her torso effortlessly, impaling her with its fingers. Blood shot out from her chest, splattering the leaf litter around her. She let out a shocked cough, her face frozen with an expression of shock and misery. Only faint whimpers came out of her mouth before her head fell forward, her body limp in the Wraith's hands.

"Noo!!" Marc cried out.

The Wraith began pulling its arms apart with the woman's body in its grasp. The gut-wrenching sounds of ripped skin and cracking bones filled the air. Blood poured out from the tears, staining the woman's clothes down the middle of her lifeless body in a vertical line. Niklas was forced to listen to more popping and tearing as the last pieces of her body broke before finally splitting apart into two uneven halves. Blood and gore showered the ground underneath them as the Wraith held up the woman's pieces in a triumphant pose.

Once again, the roar of a hundred agonies rang out from the Wraith's deathly visage. The dark voids of its remorseless eyes stared down at the sellswords, basking in their shock and horror. This was its twisted game; all who enter the Wraith's domain must submit themselves to its abhorrent will.