"Hello," said the stranger, "I've been looking for you."

The mysterious man said nothing. He just stared back at him, waiting for him to continue.

"You see," the stranger continued, "I am searching for someone who can tell me about himself."

"And why would you want to know about myself?" asked the man.

"Because I am looking for someone like yourself," replied the stranger. "Someone who knows all there is to know about himself and can share it with others."

The mysterious man smiled slightly and shrugged his shoulders. He then began walking back into the woods and said, "If that's what you seek, then I'm afraid I cannot help you."

He was just a man, but he was not like any man you'd ever seen. He lived in the forest, and his home was a cave.

He had long black hair that hung down to his shoulders, and piercing blue eyes that burned with intensity and intelligence. His face was handsomely chiseled, with high cheekbones that accentuated the sharpness of his jawline.

He wore no clothing except for a simple loincloth around his waist—and that only because it was necessary for modesty's sake when he visited other people in his village. Otherwise he went naked through the forest, feeling at peace with himself and with nature.

But one day… something happened. Something terrible! The man came upon a terrible sight: A dead deer lying on its side in the middle of the trail he was walking on. There were no signs of any other animals around it—no wolves or mountain lions or anything else that might have killed it. It looked as though it had simply dropped dead where it stood without any warning or explanation whatsoever!

This troubled the man greatly; how could something like this happen? How could an animal just drop dead out of nowhere? He didn't understand it at all… but then

The man walked through the forest, his steps sure and purposeful. He moved quickly, but not with haste. He had a destination in mind, and he was eager to reach it.

He had been walking for many hours now; he felt as though his legs were on fire from the effort of carrying him so far through this dense forest. But he could see the end in sight: a clearing ahead of him, where sunlight streamed down through the trees, illuminating everything around it.

As he approached the clearing, he slowed his pace and looked around carefully at his surroundings. There was something about this place—a sense of foreboding hung in the air around him like a fog. Something about this place felt wrong; something about this place made him very nervous indeed.

He stepped into the clearing and stopped abruptly when he saw what was there waiting for him: a wolf stood facing him, growling menacingly. Its fur was matted with blood, its eyes glowed red with rage, and its teeth were bared as if ready to rip out anyone's throat who dared approach it too closely.

The man knew well enough not to try approaching such an animal while unarmed or unprepared; they could be deadly if provoked in

It was a dark and stormy night. The rain fell in torrents, except for where it formed puddles on the forest floor. Even as the howling wind whipped through the branches of trees, it was silent.

A man walked into that silence. His footsteps were heavy, and his eyes were hooded by the shadows of his hat. He stared at the ground as he walked, occasionally looking up at the sky and shaking his head to clear the water from his face.

He continued walking until he reached a large tree, then stopped and looked around him once more before beginning to climb. When he reached its highest branch, he sat down and leaned against it so that he could peer out over the treetops below him. He sighed heavily before reaching into his pocket for a small notebook and pen.

"My name is [first name]," he wrote quickly. "I am a writer."

He paused here to think; then he continued writing: "And I am a murderer."

It was a cold night in the forest, and the mysterious man was nowhere to be found. The people of the town were worried about him. They didn't know what had happened to him or where he had gone. He had been walking through the forest when suddenly he disappeared into thin air! The police were called, but no one knew what to do next. The mysterious man's wife was especially upset about his disappearance. She loved him very much and wanted nothing more than for him to return home safely from his walk in the woods that fateful day.

The police searched for clues as to where he might have gone, but they found nothing—not even footprints in the snow! It seemed as though he had vanished into thin air like some sort of ghostly spirit or powerful magician who could make himself disappear whenever he wanted too! 

After weeks went by without any progress being made on finding out where this man went or if there was any chance at all that they would find him again alive, everyone assumed that he must have been killed by an animal while walking through those woods alone late at night on such a cold winter evening without any type of protection against them (such as a coat or boots).