Bera pricked up his ears at the scream that echoed through the forest. It was deep—a sound that scraped at the nerves. For a moment, he froze.
"What was that? Was it one of my friends screaming?" he wondered, squinting as he scanned his surroundings.
But then he immediately answered himself: "No... There shouldn't be any wild animals on this side of the forest. There shouldn't be. Maybe I misheard."
Still, the unease that settled inside him didn't go away. When the silence returned, it felt even heavier. Even the wind seemed to have stopped.
He shook his head and turned his gaze back to the rabbit. "Let me take care of this first," he murmured.
He reached out and grabbed the rabbit by its tail, lifting it up. It was light, but its texture was disturbing. It felt as though something was moving beneath its skin. The black fluid was still oozing out.
Its fur was mottled with pitch-black stains. Its eyes… there was no light in them. They stared like glass—hollow and lifeless.
