A wagon lays overturned on the forest road, bodies savaged by tooth and claw lay strewn about it, their weapons clean of blood, seemingly unused.
A lone man runs from an unseen threat, deeper into the forest, away from the grisly scene in the road. He stumbles, his foot having caught on a root. He lands hard, his lungs feel like lead. Panting, he comes to his knees. Two eyes of emerald light meet his, a low growl emanates from the beast, and his death is swift.
I once read a book about a group of people who discovered a hidden temple city in a mountain range, where the Incas-the ancient civilisation of Peru- had fled to when the spanish invaded. When this group found the burial chamber of one of the inca high priests, they unleashed a powerful curse upon them all...