The forest held its breath, shadows pooling between gnarled roots and ancient trees like ink spilled on parchment. The night was thick, damp with the scent of moss and decay, swallowing every sound except the distant rustle of something moving just beyond sight. Beneath a canopy heavy with twisted branches, something watched — patient, waiting, jaws clenched tight in silent hunger. The moon, a pale witness overhead, cast brittle silver shards through the leaves, glinting off a set of sharp teeth that snapped shut with a sound like a gunshot in the quiet woods. It was a sound no one would forget.

 The first bite came swift, ruthless — a sudden strike from the dark that shattered the stillness and tore through flesh like a jagged blade. The victim's scream was brief, swallowed by the relentless jaws that closed again and again, each snap echoing with a finality that shook the very air. Blood soaked the earth, a dark stain spreading beneath the trees as the beast's eyes glowed with a cruel, ancient intelligence. No one saw the attacker — only the wreckage left behind: a torn jacket, a broken branch, and the sickening silence that followed. In the heart of the forest, a predator had claimed its first prize.