She tripped over a thick root of a nearby oak tree, collapsing feebly to the ground, sobbing, and slowly crawled into the hollow base of the tree, curling up defensively and trying to still her sobs, afraid of the hunter finding her… a loud thud was heard, and she couldn’t help but scream, which was cut off almost instantly by an arm, bursting through the age weakened wood, and grasping at her neck, pulling her forcefully out of the tree, and into the slight, leaf cluttered clearing, and to Robert, smiling maniacally, pushing her forcefully up against the tree, his spare hand gradually pulling out his revolver, taking his time, acting with care, and presses it firmly against her forehead…

Her eyes glazed down, as many do, as told many times throughout the generations of man… Your life flashes before your eyes as your about to die, and for Ally… There was no exception…..