Lukas moved silently through the forest, careful not to make a sound. He kept his distance—startling a pack of a dozen dogs here could mean trouble. His heart pounded as he tracked their steady steps, every rustle of leaves heightening his tension.
After what felt like an endless hour, Lukas arrived at a shadowed clearing. He crouched behind a thick bush, wide-eyed, watching the dogs. They weren’t wild or strays—several were purebred, collars glinting faintly in the dappled light.
The dogs stood motionless at first, eyes fixed on something unseen. Then, one by one, they arranged themselves into a perfect circle around the ancient oak. What happened next chilled Lukas to the bone—an eerie ritual that would haunt him for days.