Cael 'Bunny' Adler | Hunted.

The trip was supposed to be a break. A breath. One of those friendgroup vacations everyone swore they'd remember forever. Sweden in early winter, a cabin tucked deep in the forest, the kind of place with bad cell service and a sagging wooden porch and an old, creaking sauna out back. The group had been close for years: you, Cael, Theo, Hana, Mira, and Jace. A weird mix of personalities that somehow worked.

Everyone expected the usual dynamic. Theo talking too loud, Mira trying to film everything, Jace starting drama and acting innocent about it. Hana pretending she hated everyone but always being the one to cook. And Cael, quiet and watchful, always there but somehow fading into the background unless you were specifically looking for him.

He’d always been like that: reserved but observant, the type who heard everything and spoke only when he had to. You liked that about him. You understood it. You were a demi-human, with the instincts of a prey animal under your skin, something delicate but sharp. Your senses were too good for your own comfort, your fear responses too quick. You were used to being jumpy; Cael was the only one who never commented on it, who didn’t tease or point it out. He just existed beside you, solid and grounding.

It was Theo who dropped the fork the first night. It clattered under the table, and when he bent down to get it, Cael was already handing it back without making a sound.

"Dude," Theo laughed, "You're like a rabbit, Quiet as hell. Fast as fuck."

Hana snorted. "No, he’s the Bunny. Cute but kinda unsettling if you think about it."

Everyone laughed. Cael didn’t. He just went back to chopping vegetables like he’d never even heard them. The nickname stuck for the rest of the night. Whenever he slipped into a room, someone muttered, “Bunny’s here.” Whenever he returned from the woods quicker than any normal person should, someone joked, “Our little forest rabbit strikes again.”

Cute. Harmless. Harmless was the important part.

But the forest was wrong in a way that took days to notice.

Small things at first.

Footprints that didn’t match anyone’s boots. The sound of branches snapping too close to the cabin at night. Jace swearing he saw someone standing between the birch trees at dawn, silent and still. Everyone assumed it was locals or an animal. No one wanted to admit they were spooked.

Then Mira woke up screaming at 5 am. She sat shaking, refusing to talk about what she saw, insisting she’d just been dreaming. But you noticed something in her eyes you’d never seen before. Fear that doesn't come from nightmare.

Not dramatically. Not in a way you could accuse him of. Just little things. The way he moved. The way he watched. The way he seemed to always know where everyone was without asking. You caught him slipping through the hallway at night without a sound, lighter than any human should be. You saw him in the woods kneeling in the snow, head tilted like he was listening for something beneath the surface.

The nickname didn’t feel funny anymore. It felt like someone had named him after the wrong creature. Not a rabbit. Not prey. Something quiet and swift and dangerous.

You were the first one he talked to as things got strange, which made it worse. You thought you knew him. You thought his silence made him safe. You thought your friendship meant he wouldn’t be part of whatever was happening.

The night Theo disappeared, you realized something was terribly, irrevocably wrong.

You were the first one awake the next morning. The cabin felt too quiet, the kind of quiet that presses against your ribs. You assumed everyone was hungover or sleeping in, but after an hour you noticed something small and wrong.

Theo’s phone was still on the counter. Theo never went anywhere without it.

By midday, Hana was pacing. Mira kept trying to call him even though his phone was literally vibrating on the kitchen table. Jace searched the sauna, the shed, the car; calling his name louder each time.

"He’s probably messing with us," Jace muttered trying to sound annoyed instead of afraid. But the darker it got, his voice changed. Everyone’s did.

Mira had tried calling the police. No bars. Hana had trugged out to the car parked in the makeshift driveway, but they were snowed in. The nearest town was over 16 miles away.

The moment it clicked was quiet. Jace standing in the doorway, his breath fogging in the cold air, "We're fucked."

And he was right.

You had stepped outside, claiming you needed air. Your eyes scanned the snow, and that’s when you saw it: a trail of footprints leading away from the cabin. Theo’s bootprints. Clear. Purposeful. Right up until they suddenly veered left, like he’d been startled or shoved or dragged. Then they disappeared.

Everyone crowded behind you, staring at the tracks, shivering even though the air wasn’t that cold.

"Why would he go out that early..?" Hana whispered.

You didn’t answer. No one did.

Because there was a second set. You saw it before anyone else did. Just barely there at the edge of the tree line, half-covered as if someone had tried to brush them away. Bare footprints. Deep. Not Theo’s.

When you finally looked back at the cabin, Cael was on the porch with his arms crossed, eyes fixed on the trees. His expression didn’t give anything away, but something in his posture did ; alert, tense, like he already knew what the woods would say if they talked.

And that was the moment the group understood: Theo wasn’t missing. Something took him.

And the forest, suddenly, didn’t feel empty at all.