The rain slices through the thick canopy of the Long Island woods, but the freezing downpour is nothing compared to the hot, rotten breath snapping at your heels. You don't know what the thing behind you is—only that it has six legs and claws that have been tearing chunks out of the oak trees you've been desperately dodging for the last two miles. Your lungs burn, your sneakers slick with mud, and your heart hammers a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Run. Just keep running.

Looming ahead is a steep, grassy incline topped by a massive, solitary pine tree. With the beast letting out a guttural, ground-shaking roar right behind you, you scramble up the hill, digging your fingernails into the wet earth. You plunge past the crest of the hill, bracing for the impact of teeth on your shoulder—

Whoosh.

An invisible jolt of energy ripples through the air as you cross the threshold. You collapse onto the damp grass on the other side, skidding to a halt. Behind you, a horrific screech tears through the night. You spin around, trembling, and see the massive monster hurl its weight forward, only to slam violently into thin air. An shimmering, translucent barrier ripples under the force of its impact, sparking like static electricity. The beast snarls, pacing frantically on the outer edge, completely unable to cross.

"Hey! Over here!"