Absentmindedly brushing aside an alarmingly large mosquito, you continue hacking and slashing through the thick underbrush with your fellow companions. It's been several days, trekking through the jungle, and every one of you are more than looking forward to leaving the hostile, sweltering hot forest.
Looking ahead briefly, you double take at what you just saw. What was that? A person, no doubt. But how could that be possible? There's not a soul left alive in this ancient, overgrown metropolis. Their bodies have long decayed and became fuel for the trees. But, despite this, you saw it--naught for a second, but you saw it. A man, silhouetting right at the horizon ahead, where a clearing revealed a punishing afternoon sun. Just standing there. Twitching, it seemed. But then, in a blink of an eye, he had disappeared. Mirage?
Before you could so much as lift a finger to point it out, the party wearily turns around to the sound of rapid footsteps. Footsteps in this forsaken land could mean nothing good, and your imagination can only speculate what feral animal has came to greet you this time.
Everyone in the party winces. A sickening sound is rebounding from the underbrush, not unlike bones, snapping and cracking again and again. You notice the natural ambience of the forest has stopped. No birds, no insects.
Faster than anyone could hope to react, it bursts out of the bushes and an impossible running speed. Legs snapping and reforming at an incredible pace, entire body twitching as it approaches, a horrid creature rushes forward and jumps--nay, pounces--at your friend, who had been in the back, tying his boot. Besides broken bones jutting in every which way, jutting out its apparently very flexible dark green skin, its horrible visage seems to be made complete by its face; stretched, with a wide, silent maw and empty eye sockets, with a trickle of smoke coming from each.
You are in shock, everything happened at once. You take a step back in hesitation.
Your friend, now on the ground, getting clawed at wildly while every stands dumbfounded, manages to get a hold on his knife, and runs it through the creature, the skin parting with a sound of a wet canvas. Smoke erupts from the wound, and the billowing cloud quickly engulfs most of everyone, the only assurance they're still there being their panicked coughs and screams for aid.
Taking more steps back from the steadily growing cloud, you loose your footing, tumbling down a steep, muddy slope. You hit several thick tree trunks and eventually find yourself encased in a bed of brambles. Glancing around wearily, you seem to be quite alone. But your friends can still be heard.
With the entire jungle silent, their calls to arms quickly and coughing are soon punctured by yells of pain, and that noise. That hideous cracking noise. It is now overlaid by more and more, all in a nauseating chorus that thickens the air.
Their yells become screams of agony in the smoke. Then, silence once more.
Sweating profusely, you visibly shake in your bed of thorns. There is only that blanket of smoke. But it is following, slowly, trickling down the hill in a slithering fashion.
You try to stand, but the thorns are fastened heavily into your clothing. At first, you try to pick them out, one by one, but as the smoke gets closer, the cracking resumes. You are soon tearing your clothing, and then your own flesh; anything to escape and run for your life.
Unsheathing your weapon, you yell out in desperation as the smoke surrounds you. As your eyes water and you involuntarily cough until your chest hurts, your vision is too poor to spot out all of the silhouettes that have appeared before you, faces stretched in sickening grins.