The soothing sounds of birds chirping cheerfully, trees rustling in a soft breeze, and the splashing of water from a stream, is usually relaxing. But not for Turner. Leaning up, he observes his surroundings.
"What in the world? How did I end up in the woods?!"
He slowly stands up, his arms are sore and his legs are wobbly.
"Ugh, why does everything hurt so badly?"
Scratching his head, he looks around for any clues for understanding. He sees something in the corner of his eye shimmering. Upon closer inspection, he determines it's a revolver, his revolver.
"Hey, my gun!"
He leans down and p
Anxious, he walks into the woods. He couldn't recall how he ended up in the woods, nor the events before hand. A slight fog filled the atmosphere. The deeper he traveled into the abyss of trees, the thicker the fog got. Soon enough he couldn't see any further than arms length.
" I can't see through all this damn fog!"
He looked up, the trees seemed to reach for eternity, overwhelmed by this feeling of hopelessness, he sat down on the grass and laid back onto a tree.
"I can't recall a damn thing! Last thing I remember was getting home from work and taking a nap. The rest is just missing." He felt as if he had walked for eternity causing him to grow frustrated, worried, and tired. he decided to lay back against a tree, stretch his legs and shut his eyes for a little. But unknown to Turner, something lurks within the fog, something watches him rest. Something is after him.
