"That's it, boy, lock onto his scent. We're on the trail. YOU HEAR THAT, KID? WE'RE COMIN' FOR YA!" shouted Brigg as he stalked through the moonlit corn, hunting rifle in hand. Brigg was a tall, gruff man with equally gruff stubble dotting his chin. He wore a plaid shirt, a faded hat, and a grimly eager expression that belied vicious excitement behind a mask of experienced professionalism, as if appearing overeager would betray some sort of chivalric hunter's code. Ahead, his demon dog led the way by sniffing out the faded trail of the young boy.
"I'm gonna get him, I'm gonna get him good! And soon! I'm gonna get him good and soon! He's mine, all mine!" said the voiceover for the demon dog. The demon dog was just a normal, lithe brown canine sporting a fake but smart-looking white and orange beard and a plastic mask with backlit eyes. The dog continued to follow the scent through dark fields and forests while Brigg shouted encouragements interspersed with threats toward their prey.
Some distance away, the young boy lay huddled in a patch of cornstalks near a small clearing that bordered the forest. He had already made an incision in his left arm and inserted a number of tubes and wires. He was moving as quickly as he could while still being meticulous, for he knew that if he didn't find the tumor it wouldn't matter if his hunters found him or not. He then pulled out a large, circular device from another incision in his chest and began connecting it with the wires from his arm, tugging and adjusting as he went. It looked incredibly painful, but adrenaline and grim determination allowed the boy to operate with unnatural stoicism.
Even so, it wasn't long before Brigg and his dog crossed the large forest clearing that bordered the corn patch, nearing the location of the boy. With a growl, the dog signaled to his master that the boy was very close.
"Hear that, boy? We've almost got you! Won't be long now! Come on out, then!" shouted Brigg. The boy froze and looked out to see the demon dog only yards away, the brightly lit eyeholes of his mask casting a ghastly visage. Jack panned the camera from the boy hidden in the corn to a closeup of the dog's face, with Brigg standing in the background aiming the rifle.
"Why don't you just come out now, save us the trouble, eh?" taunted Brigg. The dog began to stalk around the edge of the cornfield, so Jack aimed his camera along the opposite edge for dramatic effect. As he walked over to the cusp of a shallow hill, he saw a large pile of weapons scattered all over the ground. Puzzled, he put down his camera and leaned down to inspect the pile. It consisted mostly of firearms, some real and some fake, but there were healthy doses of various melee weapons and some crossbows.
"Hey, Brigg, you better come over here!" Jack shouted to Brigg, who was still standing lower on the hill nearer the forest clearing.
"What is it?" Brigg shouted back, annoyed.
"You should take a look at these weapons!"
"Eh, we already went through those, took out what we needed! Ain't nothin' important up there!"
"All the same, I think you better come up here!" Jack was beginning to feel nervous. The demon dog had stopped sniffing around and the boy raised his head slightly from his hiding place, curious about the interruption. Brigg walked up the hill, looked at the weapons, and whistled quietly.
"Whooo, there's more here than before," he said quietly. "Hell." He picked up a large axe and hefted it from hand to hand. The fact that Brigg could not explain the appearance of the weapons sent tiny fingers of terror creeping up Jack's back. Jack leaned down to and picked up a smaller, lightweight axe with the hope that it would reassure him.
Brigg paused thoughtfully and scanned the darkened landscape, sniffing the cold night air as he went. He looked back down at the pile, shrugged, and threw his axe at a large nearby tree. It clanged ineffectually from the trunk, eliciting a small frown from Brigg and adding to Jack's growing dread. Jack too lifted his axe and was about to throw it at a different tree when he heard a a gentle metallic shuffle, like chains being dragged across the ground, followed by silence. The party froze, straining to catch the sound. It happened again, slightly louder.
From around the corner of the cornstalks, the visage of a blank, gray shell of a man stalked slowly into view. The gray man had no expression and his tattered clothes blended seamlessly with his ashen skin. His gait was awkward and arhythmic and he held a dull axe in his right hand.
Jack and Brigg immediately dropped to the ground and backed up towards the clearing. The thing wasn't moving very quickly but it was clearly headed towards them.
"Let's go, let's go," whispered Brigg urgently. "Come on, kid, we gotta get outta here," he said, signaling to the boy still in his hiding spot. Jack, Brigg, the demon dog and the young boy erupted from the field and sprinted down the hill across the forest clearing. A loud clanging from behind indicated that whatever was chasing them had increased its speed. Jack glanced behind his shoulder in panic to see the gray man gaining on them, despite dragging four or five massively long chains from his manacled legs.
"He's after the game!" shouted Brigg. Just then, Jack felt himself begin to fall and a wave of terror swept over him, numbing his senses.
