Crunch.

Crunch.

Crunch.

I can hear the dry leaves crunch in rhythm with each step that I take forward. The air is crisp and cool as I gaze at the black night sky, making me feel like I'm submerged in a cold, murky black lake and looking up at the surface. It stares back at me blankly, not giving me any clues as to how the night will progress. More muffled crunches and a smattering of whispering voices, colored with fear, surround me as I walk with my troop into the woods. Everything else feels still, as though time has frozen and we are intruders in this alternate reality.