An endless darkness enveloped the forest, the shadows of trees swaying like specters under the pale moonlight. A lone woman with silver hair walked along a narrow, winding path, her steps heavy and soundless. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest, each footfall pulling her closer to an unseen abyss. A suffocating pressure hung in the air, making every breath she took feel like a struggle.
In the distance, a faint glimmer of light flickered—her only hope, a place of solace and safety. She yearned for it, desperate to escape the surrounding darkness. She quickened her pace, but the light seemed forever beyond her reach, as though it were retreating with every step she took.
“Sherwood…” A low, chilling voice echoed behind her, rising from the depths of the earth itself. Her entire body froze, her throat tightened, and she dared not turn back.
“Sherwood…” The voice grew closer, winding around her like a phantom’s whisper, cold and bone-chilling.
Her breath came faster now, her steps faltering in panic. Just as she was about to cross into the light, a cold and terrifying hand suddenly gripped her shoulder.
“Mollie Sherwood!” The voice shrieked, sharp and piercing, as if it were right by her ear. She could no longer bear it; in terror, she turned—
With a jolt, she awoke from the dream, her body lurching upright from the bed. The room was silent, the moonlight spilling through the window, casting a pale glow across her face. The silver-haired woman glanced around, dazed, her chest heaving as confusion and unease filled her eyes. This was her familiar room, but the terror of the dream clung to her, refusing to fade.
