William had once again landed himself in some nightmare version of Scooby-Doo—except this time, it wasn't a rubber-masked ghost chasing him through the dark.
It was a bull.
But not just any bull. This one looked like something bred in a madman's lab: a hulking, black mass of muscle slick with sweat and blood. Every breath made its flanks ripple as if waves rolled beneath the skin. Its eyes—wild, amber, and burning from within—locked on him with pure hatred.
The forest shuddered where it passed. Trees groaned and toppled, roots tore free of the ground, stones split beneath its hooves. The air itself seemed heavier—thick with the beast's grunt and the deep, rattling roar that made William's heart seize.
He ducked behind a tree, gasping, fists tight.
"Damn it… this is bad. Really bad."
