Kane knew they were lost, but didn't want to say the words aloud. He tried drifting off to sleep, but couldn't.

Traces of moonlight spilled through the snow-laden branches. Not five feet away, Paul snored loudly.

Even as branches snapped nearby, the wind picked up, and a red haze drew over the sky. Still, something moved nearer, the near-silence amplifying their every step.

Kane hoped it was a squirrel. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"Pssst."

Kane's eyes flew open.

At first, his vision refused to focus. Eventually, he made out a dark figure skulking over Paul's sleeping bag.

"Hi-yo!" the figure whispered, voice quivering in multiple layers.

The face was indiscernible, but it definitely wasn't a squirrel.

Kane's mind froze. His mouth was unable to form words.

"If you're hungry, why not try the white meat?" Scant light shone from the sky, throwing a crimson glow over the stranger's face. He had black pools where his eyes should have been, and a mouth curved in a perpetual Joker-smile. In any other lighting but red, his skin would've been alabaster. His nude, muscled body glistened under the red moon. Then he spoke again, revealing teeth filed down to sharp points. "You've thought about it by now."

With that, his head dipped down as he bit into Paul's leg. However, even his canines couldn't make it through a layer of jeans and two flannel pants.

"Whoo!" He wiped at his mouth, chuckling. "That's still gonna smart in the morning, you betcha."

"A dream, just a bad dream." Kane clamped his eyes shut, hoping he wasn't next on the dude's meal list.

"No such thing as a bad dream."

The words carried over the wind, close, yet far.

Kane forced one eye open, and only saw Paul, drool oozing from the side of his mouth.

~*~

The morning started off with blood.

Kane yawned, back creaking in all sorts of bad ways.

"Paul?"

Next to his friend's sleeping bag, a dark red patch stained the snow.

Scrambling awake now, Kane stood.

"Paul!"

Something stomped through the underbrush. Kane steeled himself for another meeting with the black-eyed baddie. Moments later, Paul emerged from behind a powder-laden bush.

He held a rag to his nose. "What's up, man?"

Kane's heartbeat slowed, and he tried in vain to steady his breathing. "Nothing. You okay?"

Paul nodded, carefully removing the rag. "Just woke up with a nosebleed."

"What about your leg?"

Paul knelt, grimacing. "Feels like it got caught in a damn bear trap. Really smarts."

The phrasing, same as the stranger's, caught Kane in the chest.

"Can I see it?"

"Naw. I can still walk and all."

Though, that proved to be an optimistic, if not a misleading outlook.

For the rest of the morning, Paul limped along, pain and sweat rippling across his face.

If they didn't find the road by nightfall, they would be sleeping in the open again.

Kane wished to avoid that at all costs. He feared a return of the stranger.