Typhoon

The rain hammered down as you walked home from Nova High, music providing the only comfort during the several-kilometer trek. Your beat-up trainers thudded in puddles on the path. You felt a sense of wariness as you glanced at the dark forest bordering the road, recalling the school's warnings about its dangers, especially for supernaturals like you who hadn't fully manifested their abilities.

Normally, you'd stick to the path, but the thought of a quicker way home, less time in the cold rain, pulled at you. Decision made, you diverted into the forest, the dense canopy immediately lessening the downpour. Humming along to your music, your mood began to lift on the new path.

You were so lost in the music that you almost missed it – a piercing scream that ripped through the air, the high-pitched cry of a child. Despite your hesitation, knowing your lack of control, the urge to help, ingrained since your family's death, propelled you forward. You started to run, sprinting deeper into the woods towards the sound.