Footprints of a Stranger

The air around the nest felt heavy with something off. Footprints and tool marks, deep and deliberate, had marred the ground. They weren’t from wildlife; someone had deliberately been there—and they hadn’t come for a stroll. “Who’s been tampering with this place?” he muttered, a sense of unease creeping in.

The signs pointed to human interference, and each new detail led him deeper into something he wasn’t prepared for. His pulse quickened as the realization hit: the nest was just the beginning. Whatever was happening in the park was far from a random occurrence. The real mystery, whatever it was, stretched far beyond what he could see.