I love the forest, I always have. Since I was a kid, I would explore the woods by my house, ready to discover every secret I could. I’d look under rocks, in streams, and around trees, to find every critter and creature. I’ve always felt a sense of peace in these woods.

I guess that’s why I got lost, wandering too far from the safety of known. I love this forest, and I always will.

But some secrets are not meant to be found.

As I pass a tree stump, a big bullfrog jumps into it and croaks once at me. I wave at the frog, and continue to walk. But something stops me from going any further. Something in my head tells me that that frog just isn’t right. I back up, staring at the large green frog.

“He’s got your scent now,” It says, in real human english. I gawk wondering how this frog has the right vocal chords to speak, but the bullfrog says once more, “He’s got your scent, little girl. You’ve strayed too far.”

I begin to comprehend what it’s saying as it hops away, instead of letting my mind run any longer. Just what has my scent? Is there some sort of predator in these woods?

My thoughts are cut off.

Gnashing teeth.

Ripping claws.

Overwhelming pain.

In this moment, I know I am already dead.