AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Yes, this is just a rehash of Kash's UNDERCOVER series. I'm not featuring this for a reason.
I want to prove that they have good ideas, and with a more polished style, it can definitely shine.

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The name's Daniel. Daniel, not Danny, not Dangster, Daniel. I'm 21, even if I don't look it.

That's what I go by now, anyway. I made some mistakes when I was 16, and I want to put that behind me. Nowadays, I'm living a simple life out in the suburbs of Boston.
I started this morning out by the lake, enjoying the crisp, chilly fall air. The trees were undressing and clothing the ground and lake with their leaves. Drawing a deep breath, I started thinking to myself that I could actually enjoy this new life of mine.

Just when I thought that, I saw something moving out the corner of my eye, rustling about. When I stood up and looked that way, I saw absolutely nothing. All it left was a chill down my spine.
The once calming breeze now felt eerie. I felt a gaze on my back. It's high time I head back, I told myself.
My car was parked about a 4-minutes' walk behind me, but it definitely didn't feel that way. The darkness and solitude of the trail only seemed to lengthen as I continued down the path. At some point, my sixth sense kicked in, and my brisk walk turned into a quick jog.

Something just wasn't right. Sweat started to bead on my hands as I felt an evil presence behind me. The jog turned into a full-on sprint.

I'm sure you'd call me crazy, but I heard a voice then. "Please... please don't leave me..." it said.
It gets worse. All the shadows around the forest clumped up into a figure in front of me. He was big, black, and importantly, terrifying. It had a nebulous body with long, spindly arms bearing gigantic claws and teeth that would put sharks to shame.

"You FOOL," it screeched, "You've entered my woods, and now you will pay!"

I bolted around the creature, trying to put as much distance between myself and that thing as I can. After what seemed like an eternity, I found my car and glanced behind myself. The abomination was nowhere to be found. There was nothing but the quiet whisper of wind and swaying trees. Panting heavily, I dumped myself into the front seat of my 1969 black Camero and started her up.

I was never more thankful for a peaceful drive home.

I pulled into the driveway of my modest condo and unlocked my front door. Right when I hung up my leather jacket, I got tackled by my personal furball. The old German Shepard looked up at me with its yellow eyes, smiling up at me.

I knelt down and stroked his head, and he licked my hand in return. I felt myself smile in his presence. "Look at you," I said, "So much happened this morning that even if I told you, Duncan, you wouldn't understand a single thing." Duncan barked in agreement, beginning to scratch himself.

My smile quickly soured. His vet told me that his back problems are from old age, and his time is soon to come. That just means that I have to make every moment count. For the both of us.

How I spent the rest of the morning or the afternoon is not worth retelling.

I decided after dinner to spend the evening at the nearby bar. I had enough troubles as it was, so I wanted to catch a break any chance that I could get. Walking down the street, some people called out to me, but I only gave them as much as a glance. I wasn't there for them, after all.

Once I got there, I dropped myself on the usual stool. The bar itself is a typical mom-and-pop establishment that you'd find down the street. Blackish-grey walls with a lime-green vinyl floor, a couple pool tables in the corner, and way too many TVs playing sports for their own good. Even if their decorations were weird, their cocktails certainly weren't, and they were plenty good enough for me to drown my sorrows.
I called for my usual starting drink, a Manhattan, and the spry young lad behind the counter sprung into action. He started working here a couple months ago, I think. I'd bargain that he was around 25, and he was dressed in a black polo shirt, jeans, and shoes with no socks. His shaggy brown hair bounced around when he shook my drink, and he had a kind smile when he served me my drink, yet he had a look of focus when he was whisking up my drink. It's a wonder that the girls in town aren't all over him, especially since he's handsome as well.
I took a long sip of my drink. Even though I came during the evening, it felt a little improper to be drinking with so few people around me. The few that were were sipping on sodas for kiddies like Krap Kola and Dr. Indescribable Flavor. I guess they enjoy the atmosphere and the pool tables a lot more than the alcohol here. More for me, I guess.

I thought I would have been alone all night if it weren't for a familiar short-bearded redhead.
"Hey, man!" John shouted from across the bar.

Ever since I moved here, John and I have been fast friends. He's the only one that I feel safe sharing my story with. Aside from you, of course, but... I don't know you.

What are you going to do, hurt me?

I looked over my shoulder and greeted him back. "Hi." It took a lot of restraint not to burp mid-sentence.
"Did you get rejected again?" John asked gently.
After some thought, I responded, "No, even worse. I'm sure you'd call me crazy, but..."
"C'mon, I already think you are. Just tell me," he nagged.

I told him everything I saw this morning, and a shadow crossed his face in dismay.
"Danny..."
"It's Daniel, dammit."
"I thought I was seeing things, Danny! But if you saw that thing in the woods, too, then..." He trailed off mid-sentence in thought.
He suddenly shouts, "Bartender, I'll have what he's having!"
"Coming right up!"

John leaned closer to me and whispered, "Dude, that forest is terrifying. There's been multiple reports of missing people and just weird occurrences." I nodded as I sipped on my drink. My eyes were on an intense game of pool behind him, but my mind was on the shadowy figure: it seemed like he had a leather jacket on, but that wasn't enough to tell who it was. Even then, he seemed familiar. I couldn't place my finger on who it was exactly... it must have slipped my mind. It felt eerie, though. I figured I should quickly finish my drink, ride it out, then head home.
"Uh huh..." I replied to John, sipping ever faster.
"But, let's not worry about it for now. We should finish our drinks, then we could play some pool. I want to finally break your win streak!" John jeered, giving me a playful punch to the arm. Even though he has not one drop of alcohol in his blood, his mouth was already acting he had plenty. There was no way in heaven or hell that he had even a CHANCE at beating me. I chuckled to myself, scrapping my original plan to head home early. Maybe I shouldn't have.

By the time that I had finished smoking John at pool, it was well past midnight and we were both drunk out of our minds. It was a wonder that I could still pot anything at that stage, and we both stumbled out of the bar with arms around each other's shoulder. That's when I saw him. The man in the leather jacket.

"Hey, I know you!" he yelled. He clearly wasn't sober either.

At that moment, it clicked in my mind. It was Edmund, a reminder of my past life. He was a complete asshat, mean, violent, selfish — I hated him so much. As the boss, he looked down upon everyone else around him. Back then, his wealthy family had ties with the government, which allowed us get our hands on illegal weaponry, but not anymore.

I was about to respond to his taunt when he beat me to the punch with a fist in the face. I staggered back, and John tried to grab him, only to get shoved onto the floor. He threw haymakers at me, and I blocked with my arms. Even though I could usually hold my won in hand-to-hand combat, the alcohol wasn't going to make this easy.
The next moments were a blur, but I was told that he charged at me, I stepped out of the way, and he smashed his head into a brick wall. After screaming some obscenities, I lunged at me and landed a punch in the stomach, making me lose all air. Stumbling and gasping for air, Edmund laughed hysterically. After throwing a few more punches, I grabbed him and chucked him into a bench, which put him out for good. The last thing I remember from that night was John tugging on me, saying "We should probably get out of here..." before running off.