THE SNARE

  The dark road winding up to the Fir and Flagon tavern was shrouded in late autumn’s chill, the crisp air biting at exposed skin and carrying the earthy scent of fallen leaves. Shadows criss-crossed along the narrow path, cast by the scattered skeletal fingers of Ardraelion’s towering oaks. They creaked in the breeze, and the thick overhead canopy of pine trees swallowed what little clouded moonlight managed to filter through, leaving the woods bathed in near total darkness. Every step on the uneven ground brought a crunch of frostbitten leaves or the occasional snap of a hidden twig. For most, such a setting would provoke unease, the kind of discomfort that came with the feeling of being watched. Except to Riz and his gang, it was a routine trip. Usually it was they who unsettled others, making travelers nervous with their presence.

  Ahead, the warm glow of the tavern flickered through the dense tree line, promising much needed respite to the trio. Riz adjusted the collar of his patch-work coat to help hide the painful cut on his face, while his eyes focused on the light ahead as his gang ambled along behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, a habit born from years of living outside the law. Nothing stirred behind them except the rustling of unseen creatures in the undergrowth, their calls echoing like whispers in the dark.

  High above the gang, however, crouched in the thick branches of a towering evergreen, The Black Thorn waited. His sleek, panther-like form blended seamless into the night while his claws gripped the wood like silent anchors. His rounded, feline ears twitched at the sound of the gang approaching, their footsteps breaking the stillness as they moved along the road. The faint glint of his slitted, green eyes was the only sign of life as he focused on the group below. Around him, the forest seemed to freeze in place, as though nature itself feared to disrupt his concentration.

  The Black Thorn thrived in this type of darkness. The crisp air sharpened his senses, and the oppressive shadows of the woods served as perfect camouflage against his ebony black fur. The tip of his tail twitched as he began eavesdropping on their conversation.

  Below, Riz groaned, rubbing the edges of his swollen cheek. His frustration shining through as he spat a bloody glob onto the ground.

  “You alright, boss?” Shiv asked, breaking the silence.

  Before Riz could answer, Tuff gave Shiv a rough elbow to the ribs, almost knocking him off balance. “Shut up, Shiv.”

  However, Riz had already spun around, eyes blazing. “No, you shut up,” he growled, pointing an accusing finger at them both. “This wouldn’t have happened if you two morons could think faster than a swamp slug.”

  His glare shifted to Tuff. “You should have pulled that farm kid further away from the cart!” Then, to Shiv, “And you should have stopped gawking at that damned steam-bike and paid closer attention!”

  The Black Thorn remained still, perched high in the tree as the gang's footsteps grew louder. Their conversation drifted up to him, confirming his suspicions. They were typical human thugs, clueless about how to execute a proper ambush, it seemed. His crude, quick mind immediately dismissed them as nothing more than low-level criminals. He idly flexed his claws into the tree bark, almost bored, as they continued to bicker amongst themselves.

  Tuff and Shiv hurriedly apologized to Riz, trying to placate him.

  “Once we get to the Fir and Flagon, you two are buying my drinks—All night!” Riz snapped, his voice laced with irritation.

  Tuff and Shiv exchanged disgruntled glances, letting out groans of contempt, but they begrudgingly agreed.

  A beat of silence passed before Shiv shrugged and prodded further without caution, “What did that kid hit you with, anyway?”

  Riz rubbed his face again, pulling the hood of his worn jacket over his head to conceal the swelling. “It was a direhound control collar, I think,” he muttered. “If you two hadn't screwed everything up, we could've found everything that farm kid loser had on him.”

  At the mention of a direhound, The Black Thorn's muscles stiffened and his ears twitched forward, his attention fixed on their conversation, like a predator drawn to the scent of blood. So, the boy they had tried to ambush had a control collar. Interesting.

  Tuff chimed in, “Ain’t never seen a farmer with a direhound before. Wonder why he had it?”

  Riz shrugged dismissively, not interested in dissecting the details. His thoughts were only on getting to the tavern and drowning the pain of his throbbing face in alcohol. Though, for The Black Thorn, the conversation had taken a far more intriguing turn. A farm boy with a control collar? He knew Nalli would have had to cross human farmlands after her descent from the Frostspire Mountains.

  This might be a lead worth following…

  The Black Thorn's green eyes narrowed as he watched the gang pass beneath him, their foolish chatter growing fainter. He had chosen his vantage point well, perfectly positioned to eavesdrop on the human gossip that flowed between the city of Tribute and the sprawling outlands. They were oblivious to his presence, completely unaware of the silent watcher among the trees.

  His interest in the human with the direhound control collar gripped him further with every passing word. After days of hiding in the shadows, watching and listening to human chatter and following leads, his searching had yielded no result. He would take action with these human worms, and pry them for information.

  With a fluid motion, The Black Thorn slid down from the tree, his large form moving predacious and with utmost silence. His black paws touched the dark earth like shadows, barely making a sound as he prepared to confront the trio. In this moment, he felt the thrill of the hunt. A predator stalking its prey, ready to strike.

  As The Black Thorn crouched low, he caught a glimpse of the nearby carcass of a stag he had felled earlier in the evening. The creature lay partially hidden beneath the tree, a deceased witness to his natural hunting instincts. It had provided food and sustenance, but the hunt had been far from thrilling; the deer had been an easy target, a simple act of mere necessity. It never saw him coming. Still, the sight of it awakened something primal within him as a wicked idea formed in his mind. Slowly, his tongue slid over the sharp edges of his fangs, savoring the faint tang of blood that still lingered there.

  Without breaking his thoughts, he moved with effortless haste, gripping the carcass in his powerful claws and throwing it over his shoulder. He swiftly carried the body deeper into the woods until he found a secluded area some distance away at the base of another great pine tree. Here, the shadows had grown dark and thick, and he placed the deer with care, positioning it, horns up, beneath the natural canopy of branches as though presenting it as an offering to the night. The act was quick. A premeditated moment stolen just long enough to allow him to piece together the final stages of his scheme.

  The Black Thorn then moved silently through the trees, his sleek body a shadow among the branches as he returned to the edge of the road. The slits of his green eyes focused and locked onto the trio of humans before him, and his heart thudded with growing anticipation. The thought of what he planned to do to them sent a surge of malignant energy coursing through him. This was not just about gaining information; it was about power, about making a statement, especially to humans. The thrill of the chase, the sharp edge of fear he knew he would inspire, was intoxicating. Each breath filled his lungs with the cold night air, fueling the fire of his predatory instincts.

  The moment was near, and the chaos was waiting to be unleashed.

  Ahead, Riz and his thugs rounded a corner, leaving the crew secluded between a dense patch of trees as the dark path wound deeper into the woods. Tuff rubbed his stomach with a look of greedy starvation on his face. “I can’t wait to order a fresh cut of hot roast at the tavern,” he said, practically drooling at the thought.

  Shiv chimed in, “I’m getting a nice juicy chicken. You know they always have the best there.”

  Riz seemed less interested in the feast awaiting them. His focus shifted as he noticed an unsettling stillness in the woods. The usual sounds of nocturnal creatures were muted, creating an eerie atmosphere. He held up an open hand, commanding his gang to silence. “Stop talking for a moment. I need to listen,” he said in a hushed voice, narrowing his eyes.

  Instead of quieting, Tuff and Shiv continued to bicker, their voices rising in playful argument as they discussed the finer differences between red meat and poultry. Riz frowned, his frustration building as he strained to hear beyond their squabbling. He listened for anything that might hint at something lurking in the shadows.

  Tuff and Shiv stumbled as they caught up to Riz, nearly colliding with him. Anger flared in their leader. He spun around, grabbing each of them by their coat collars. “If either of you want to keep being part of this crew, you need to listen to me,” he growled. “Next time I tell you to be quiet, you better keep your mouth shut, or I’ll shut it for you. Permanently.”

  With a rough shove, Riz sent them stumbling back, then turned and continued along the path toward the tavern, its dim lights barely visible through the thick foliage. Tuff and Shiv brushed themselves off, exchanging nervous glances before quietly following their leader. They could both see that Riz was at the end of his rope.

  As they walked in silence, Shiv suddenly paused next, his ears tuned to listen. He heard something. An unusual rustling in the darkness of the woods. He turned to Riz. “H-Hey, boss? Did you hear that?” he asked, concern creeping into his voice.

  Instead Riz, too fed up with their antics, snapped back, “I don’t care anymore! Just keep moving. All I give two-cogs about now is what kind of drink you’re buying me.”

  Tuff continued after Riz, but Shiv lingered back, his gaze scanning the shadows among the trees, straining to catch a glimpse of whatever might be lurking in the dark. The silence pressed in around him like a snare, making his heart race.

  Concealed in the shadowed darkness of the trees, The Black Thorn grinned, savoring the moment. He had set the stage for what was to come. The rustling was intentional, a tactic to draw the human's focus away from the real danger lurking in the darkness. Inaudibly, he moved deeper into the shadows, keeping himself hidden while he watched the solitary human.

  Along the road, Shiv strained to peer into the trees, but saw only suffocating darkness before him. Unease crept over him as he decided to straighten up and rejoin his companions. He spotted Riz and Tuff about to round a curve ahead, but before he could call out for them to wait, a powerful force gripped him.

  Shiv was then lifted high off the ground and dragged violently into the thick underbrush. A large, furred, and sharp-clawed hand clamped over his mouth, stifling any cry for help.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  In a heartbeat, Shiv was gone.

  Only the emptiness where he once stood remained, with the forest as his only witness, the darkness swallowed him whole.

  Ahead, Tuff slowed his pace, his brow furrowing as he noticed the absence of Shiv’s usual footfalls behind him. He turned, scanning the shadowy path, but the dark woods offered no sign of his companion. His heart skipped as a chill creeped up his spine. With all their years together, he knew Shiv wouldn’t stray from the group. Suppressing unease, he reached out and tapped Riz on the shoulder, jerking his thumb toward the empty space behind them.

  “Shiv’s gone,” Tuff muttered, his voice dim and stupid, but taut with unease.

  Riz stopped abruptly, his eyes narrowing as he followed Tuff’s gaze into the dim gloom. Before either could act, a harrowing cry shattered the stillness. A desperate scream that echoed through the trees.

  “Riz, Tuff!” Shiv’s voice rang out from somewhere deep within the trees, distressed with fear.

  Without hesitation, Tuff bolted toward the sound, with Riz close behind, who instinctively drew his concealed dagger as they scanned the shadows. “Shiv!” Tuff called, but the only response was a perpetual silence.

  They paused, anxiety rising in their chests. Tuff glanced around with his simple eyes, searching for any sign of their partner.

  A rustle came from their right and Riz's heart leaped as he barked, “Shiv, stop messing around! We can hear you!”

  Except the only reply was a deep, rumbling purr that resonated from the shadow of darkness behind them. Tuff and Riz turned slowly, the ominous silhouette of something large and menacing barely visible through the trees.

  Riz’s grip tightened around the hilt of his dagger, using the meager blade as his best show of confidence. “Show yourself!” he challenged, his voice steady in lieu of the fear coursing through him. He took a step forward, ready to confront whatever threat lurked in the shadows.

  The shadowed silhouette shifted, and before Riz could react, a high-pitched whiz sliced through the air and Tuff gasped as a needle-thin dart pierced his chest. The brute stifled a cry, eyes bulging as he looked down at the dart sticking out of his right breast. The burly man attempted to grab at it, but the potent, fast-acting poison it contained already coursed through his veins. His legs buckled, and he crumpled to the ground, his body stiffening as he tried to stand back up, but Tuff’s body toppled as he lost balance almost immediately, rolling sideways into the sloped embankment on the side of the road.

  Riz’s eyes widened in shock as he glanced back at Tuff, his body stoic and unmoving, and panic surged through him. With his gang's only real muscle out of the fight, Riz turned to run, desperate to reach the distant lights of the Fir and Flagon that flickered like a beacon through the trees. Each pound of his footsteps felt heavy as the distance seemed insurmountable.

  He ran as fast as his feet could carry him, until suddenly, he was brought to the ground, caught by a sharp cable that coiled around his legs, tightening his ankles together mercilessly. “What the—” he shouted, struggling to free himself, but it was no use as he looked down to see his plight. A series of small hooks were interwoven into the cable, digging into his trousers, thus preventing him from pulling it off with any ease.

  “Shiv!” he yelled out in desperation, but the only reply was the sound of rustling leaves. In a gut-wrenching flash, the cable tugged tighter, and Riz was dragged feet-first into the trees, the underbrush scratching against him as he fought against the relentless pull. He couldn’t see anything other than darkness and the faint glimmer of the tavern lights growing more and more distant.

  Desperation clawed at him as he twisted and turned, trying to get a grip on something, anything. He felt his knuckles scrape and cut against various surfaces, ripping his skin open to bleed in the brisk air. Then, he heard a muffled shout during the chaos. Shiv? Panic turned to dread as Riz realized the violent situation he was in, and worse, something horrifying was closing in on him.

  Riz was yanked deeper into the trees, his body slamming against roots and protruding branches as the tight cable around his legs drug him further. He was forced to protect his head and face with his arms and hands. Each jostle, tug, and pull sent a wave of panic through him as the world became a blur of darkness and foliage. He thought it would never end, until the movement came to an unexpected halt, and he found himself face to face with the carcass of a stag, its lifeless eyes, black in the night, staring back with a blank expression. The gruesome sight sent a chill down his spine, and he desperately sat upwards as he struggled against the bindings. Riz tried to use his blade to cut through the cable in a vain attempt to regain control, but the material was made of a strong, foreign, and tightly woven material that refused to yield to even his knife's edge.

  He heard a rustle from somewhere above, and without warning, Riz was yanked upward at a sharp angle, his cries echoing in the night air. His heart raced as he felt the vertigo of being lifted upside down, dangled by his feet beneath the thick branch of an ancient evergreen tree. Riz cried out as the knife slipped from his grasp and landed with a disheartening thud next to the stag far below him. Panic consumed him as he felt the blood rush to his head.

  Riz squirmed left and right, but then he spotted Shiv, bound tightly to the base of the tree’s trunk, with a thick piece of fabric gagging his mouth. The look of pure horror in Shiv’s eyes mirrored Riz’s own growing dread. They’d been ambushed, and clearly by disciplined hands.

  For a moment, Riz hung suspended beneath the tree, trying to piece together their situation, but the dismayed look on Shiv's face and his desperate muffled cries through the gag sent more shivers down Riz's spine.

  Then, out of the darkness, a sinister, heavily accented voice sliced through the air. “Like catching rabbits in a noose… little human pink-skins,” Riz strained to orient himself toward the sound, while Shiv trembled, letting tears flow down his dirty cheeks.

  The Black Thorn remained cloaked in shadows, circling the tree with menace, a sense of predatious pride swelling within him at the success of his trap.

  “You will tell me what I wish to know... or meet the same fate as that woodland creature before you.” His voice hummed with lethal minaciousness as The Black Thorn paced, his bright green eyes the only visible feature in the dark, glimmering like floating twin lanterns in the night.

  Riz watched the glowing eyes shift through the trees, their movement unsettling and equally as confusing. He struggled to turn his body and follow them, but it was difficult while suspended in the air. The situation made him feel like a helpless fish on a line beneath their gaze. Worse yet, he was even more alarmed by their sheer elevation. The eyes were at the same height as him suspended in the air, suggesting that whoever, or whatever, was holding him captive stood as tall as three or four men.

  A deep purring sound echoed through the night, blending with the rustling of the leaves. Riz glanced back at Shiv, his partner’s face was pale and drained of all color, utterly paralyzed by fear. Even in the dim light, the terror on Shiv’s face was unquestionable.

  The voice came again, taunting them with a chilling calm. The Black Thorn, unseen, moved closer, positioning himself behind the tree to which Shiv was bound. With deliberate slowness, he extended one razor-sharp claw and drug it across Shiv’s chest, slicing through his clothing with ease before pressing it deeper into the flesh beneath.

  Riz watched in horror as Shiv winced in agony, his muffled screams barely audible through the gag. Panic rose within Riz as he thrashed in his bonds, helplessly witnessing the torment.

  “What are you, a direhound? What do you want?” Riz cried out, his voice trembling with desperation, still hanging upside down. He could see the pain in Shiv’s eyes, his helpless fear, but Shiv couldn’t answer, save for the groans of his pain emanating from his throat. The gag ensured his silence, and his terror only compounded.

  The Black Thorn retracted his claw, fading back into the shadows like a living nightmare. He began to circle around Riz once more, his presence barely a whisper in the night.

  “Insulting. I am no flea-ridden mongrel. The farm boy... tell me more,” The Black Thorn demanded, his voice as cold as a winter wind. He had the human exactly where he wanted him. The fear, the disorientation. He'd played the psychological game flawlessly.

  He would get what he wanted.

  Riz’s feet were starting to grow numb, and the rush of blood to his head was making him dizzy. Desperation tightened in his throat, and with each moment of silence, he felt the threat against him and Shiv growing. He couldn’t stand the thought of more suffering, especially his own.

  “The farm kid? Wh-What do you want to know?” Riz stammered, his voice trembling with fear. “H-he was just a kid we decided to jump.”

  The crook hesitated, the consequences of the situation sinking in. “That's all. A kid from some farm, nothing special! We thought he had some coin, that's it!”

  The Black Thorn released all of the tension in the cable, and Riz felt his stomach drop as he plummeted headfirst toward the ground. His heart pounded in terror as the earth rushed up to meet him, the sharp prongs of the dead stag’s antlers an imminent, deadly threat beneath him. Just as he braced for a gruesome impact, the cable jerked tight, stopping him mere inches from the jagged crown of horns.

  Riz cried out in desperation. “Wait! Wait, please!” His breath was frantic, his body shaking from the near-death experience.

  Sweat dripped down his forehead as he began to ramble, the words spilling out in fear. “It was a setup, alright? We found an old cart, loaded it up with crops, set the whole thing up as a trap. When the right mark came along, we sprang it. But… things didn’t go as planned, okay? And the kid—he got away on his steam-bike!”

  Riz paused in his panic, trembling, then added, “He hit me—struck me real good.”

  The Black Thorn’s voice cut through the shadows, calm but brewing with restrained threat. “I don’t care about your scheme. What about the direhound control collar?”

  Riz nodded vigorously, his eyes darting to where the green predator’s eyes still lingered. “W-Why do you want to know about that? I don’t know why he had it, but it looked old—real old. Haven’t seen a model like that in ages. Can’t imagine it’d be useful, if at all.”

  The Black Thorn’s silence lingered, the air thick with menace. His eyes gleamed coldly in the darkness as he took in the information. The implications were starting to take shape, and his mind raced with the possibilities. His voice slithered through the trees, low and dangerous. “Unusual indeed. A simple farm boy with an old direhound control collar, escaping on a steam-bike.”

  The Black Thorn paused just long enough to let the tension build. “What else?”

  Riz swallowed hard, his body trembling as he hung helplessly as he thought. The creature's relentless questioning only reinforced his fear. He could no longer see the giant predator; the shadows had concealed him once again, leaving Riz to feel exposed and vulnerable. He licked his dry lips, his mind scrambling to recall anything that might satisfy the lurking menace. “He also had some kind of official-looking document in his pocket, like a permit or something, but the kid got away before I could get a better look.”

  “Very curious. And where did this farm boy go?” The Black Thorn's voice shifted, coming from a different location now, closer and yet more distant at the same time.

  Riz stammered, his eyes wide, trying to find the source of the voice. “West! He went west, I swear! Took the road from Tribute out that way, I don't know where exactly—just... just west!”

  The Black Thorn circled one final time in silence, his plan falling into place. The indications were pointing to his unclaimed prey, and this information was all he needed to narrow the search. His eyes gleamed in the night, a faint shimmer of satisfaction in the shadows.

  Nalli would be his.

  Then, in an unanticipated turn, Riz saw the ropes around Shiv’s body loosen, released by an unseen hand. Shiv gasped, suddenly free, and fumbled to remove the cloth gag from his mouth. He stared at his freed hands in shock, unable to comprehend what had happened, but there was no time to question it. Riz, still dangling inches above the dead stag’s antlers, frantically wriggled and shouted for help.

  “Shiv! Get me down!” Riz cried, his voice cracking with fear as he kicked helplessly.

  Shiv rushed to Riz’s side, his lanky legs shaky but his instincts honing in. He looked around nervously, feeling the oppressive darkness surrounding them, but their captor was nowhere to be seen. With a quick glance around, Shiv traced the cable’s length and found where it was tied off on a nearby trunk. With a trembling tug on the cable’s knot, Shiv lowered Riz down, careful to avoid the jagged horns of the stag.

  Riz touched the ground with a bump, and with some effort, scrambled to his feet after finagling with the hooks lodged in his trousers. His breath was heavy as he collected himself. “What—what in the hells was that thing?” he stammered, still looking around in a panic, expecting the creature to strike again at any moment.

  However the forest had fallen hauntingly silent. The sinister green eyes had vanished, and the presence of the creature was as gone as if it had melted into the night itself. The oppressive feeling lifted as the moon above presented itself, but not enough for either man to feel safe.

  Shiv and Riz stood in silence, catching their breath, exchanging wide-eyed glances, both trembling from the harrowing encounter. The air still felt thick with danger, yet the hunter that stalked them seemed to have completely vanished, his last words still ringing in their ears.

  Shiv wiped the sweat from his brow, still panting, “We—we need to get out of here, Riz.”

  Riz nodded in agreement, shakily retrieving his dagger from the ground, but his mind was buzzing. They had been spared, but for what purpose? He didn't know who the farm boy really was, but one thing was clear: the boy had gotten tangled up in something far darker than the gang of thieves ever could have imagined.

  The two thugs stumbled back toward the roadway where they found Tuff, stiff as a rock but still alive. The distant lights of the tavern provided them a small sense of security, but the unshakable feeling that they were still being watched followed them as they hefted Tuff up the road. The trio’s mind churned as they made their way to the Fir and Flagon. Would anyone believe their story?

  Moreover, from somewhere now deep in the forest, the faintest sound of leaves rustling could be heard as if carried by the wind. The Black Thorn had retreated, leaving no trace but his lingering dread in the air.

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