Giff made his way towards the woods, running untill he felt he was going to pop. As he entered the air began to chill. He could see his breath float far off in front of him. He ran deeper in, leaving tracks in the half frozen mud. He shivered and slowed down to a walk, he realized what they would do to him, ram a pole up his ass and eat his organs and paint symbols in their basement with his blood. He hiked around, he had to find a spot to hide, knowing he couldnt run forever. He walked and walked, the mud began to crunch with ice more than squish under his feet. He felt hungry, and he could only think of escape as it began to snow.
Suddenly he heard voices and trampling in the freezing mud behind him. The trees swayed in silence as he observed through his own breath. He had to do something. It was so miserably cold he wanted to die. He almost wanted to give himself in. He then saw a small hollow in a dead tree next to him. He immediately slipped in, sliiping on the somewhat crunchy mud and dead plants, and to his surprise he fell, at least ten feet. As he fell he let out quite a hooller until he came to the ground with a thud. He was in somesort of cave, but lighted with christmas lights.
In the cave