The Dragon in the Forest

It took 30 minutes to find the entrance. The faint moonlight barely filtered through the dense leaves. Min-jun walked along the forest path where his feet sank deeply. As he ventured deeper into the heart of Bukhansan National Park in South Korea, dew clung to his jacket. This was a place hardly anyone could find. His goal was clear: to find the dragon. The villagers whispered about it, but hardly anyone dared to seek it. A cold wind blew, carrying an unfamiliar metallic scent. The smell drew Min-jun deeper into the forest.

Upon reaching a naturally formed clearing, strange phenomena began to unfold. The sounds around did not match his movements. The sound of his footsteps echoed back, delayed like a haunting. This created an ominous aura in the quiet night. Above him, the sound of fluttering wings could be heard, matching no creature he knew. The atmosphere of the forest grew heavier, pressing down on his shoulders, choking him. The dry sulfurous scent teased his nostrils, suffocating the air. Something was definitely wrong.

Min-jun finally approached a small cave the villagers claimed was the lair of the dragon. The air thickened with smoke that seemed to come from nowhere. In the blink of an eye, he was engulfed in the hazy mist, irritating his eyes and smothering him. Then, Min-jun saw it. A massive shadow stood behind the gray veil, its form defying logic or the principles of shadow. It seemed as if the smoke itself was alive. The entity exhaled flames. The blaze lunged fiercely toward Min-jun. He dodged, but the flames grazed his arm. A piercing pain surged, turning legend into reality.

Overwhelmed by despair, Min-jun pushed beyond his limits and retreated from the forest. With each collapsing step, the ear-splitting roar of the enraged beast echoed behind him. The forest seemed to come alive, branches reaching out like hands. He couldn't even hear his own ragged breath. His heart raced. Instinctively, he found the path that led back out and reached the open road. The smoke no longer pursued him, but the foul odor lingered on his clothes and skin.

Min-jun collapsed at the forest path's entrance, next to the bag he had set down. Hurriedly, he took out his camera and hastily pressed the shutter to check its function. It was operational. However, when he later watched the recorded footage, his heart froze. The smoke never disappeared in the video. In the thick darkness, that shadow momentarily became distinctly visible. And the burning eyes shone from a distance like stars. Nothing else.

The last scene played vividly in his mind. "It was here before I looked back," his voice whispered at that time. It captured an echo delayed in the forest, as if his current self were still trapped in that unwelcoming wilderness.