He didn't realize how close he'd gotten to the border until all sound, quite abruptly, went silent, including Yuuri's voice, even though he couldn't be that far behind (Yuuri was younger than he was, ran further every day, and his stamina was better; he'd have no trouble at all keeping up). He couldn't see Makka, but he could feel a chill in the air; he hadn't quite crossed what he perceived to be the boundary (he wasn't stupid), but he wasn't expecting the environment to change so suddenly. He called Makka again, but he could barely hear his own voice, or anything except the blood rushing in his ears.
Derr'mo, he thought, vaguely perceiving Domovoi's frantic screeching or the mess of thoughts in his head, clouded by the griffin's fear. He seemed to know what lurked beyond there and was resistant to going any further, but Viktor could only think of Makkachin, he had to find her, no matter what.
There was movement to his right, and Viktor turned to shout again, but his breath caught in his lungs. The air around him went still and cold, and darkness shrouded his vision. He felt something brush against his side and jumped.
"Makka!" he said a moment later, bending down to touch her. Finally. "You scared me, shas-t'ye," he said, scratching her ears. "Come on, we need to get away from - "
Domovoi's frantic voice broke into his thoughts, and when he snapped his head up he was staring into what could have been the face of death. There were two of them, horrible, rotting things moving jerkily towards him. They were close enough he could see their grinning skeletal faces, and getting closer fast. All the air rushed from his lungs then, and without thinking he scrambled to his feet, actually picked up Makkachin, and ran, faster than he would have believed possible (apparently being chased by nightmare creatures was excellent motivation to beat one's personal best, who knew?)