Newborough Forest was dark and her feet were bare. She stumbled on stones and slid on leaves, branches and thorns tearing at her arms. She had the look of prey about her as sweat beaded on her brow. Her breath came in gasps and tears filled her eyes.
Suddenly she was falling. She landed in a clearing on hands and knees and stayed there, panting, too afraid to move. Her entire body was straining to hear.
Was it over? She couldn't hear him following her. Had she really lost him?
Her answer came in a sudden explosion of dirt and leaves.
He struck her so hard that starbursts filled her vision. She clawed at him desperately, but to no avail. With an inhuman strength, he held her with one hand, his other poised to strike.
On the ground, her hand brushed something hard. She quickly seized it and struck the side of his head. He released her with a surprised whine, and she crawled backwards away from him.
"Please," she pleaded, "please don't!"
The man gave no reply. In the light of the moon, she saw his hands. The fingers stretched and changed shape until they were as long and sharp as needles. He came at her.
She screamed as the pain shredded at her.
In a few minutes the echoes of her screams died away, and the forest was again silent. But then birds began chirping and leaves rustled in the wind. Life returned to the forest, leaving the woman behind for the living to find.
A pair of hikers found her that morning, just as dawn's light was beginning to shine.
"I'd put the time of death about eight hours ago," the coroner told the Inspector.
"The cause?" he asked. Inspector Thomas Wells had seen a lot in his 20 years with the force. The dead were still the hardest part.
"I'm not quite sure. She has some scrapes and bruising which appear to be consistent with her running through the woods. And here on her neck, these bruises were made by a hand. She could have been strangled. But then there's also this." The coroner pulled down the dead woman's shirt to reveal five small puncture wounds in a circular pattern between her shoulder blades. "I have no idea what could have caused this. Not until I can examine her further."
Inspector Wells nodded. Dirt and leaves clung to the dead woman's body, and dried blood formed small streams from the holes. He'd seen this before.
"Do we have an ID?"
"Jessica Lewis," the coroner said. "Her wallet was found on her. Cash and card still in there."
Again, Inspector Wells nodded. "I'll take over from here, then. Have her body sent to Torchwood."