Hyde in a Hell-forest

First illustration for vert-is-ninja's contest. Will be submitting it in parts of two.

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Mr. Hyde took personal pride in his ability to escape nearly anything. You could lock him in a cell, chain him to the wall, hang him upside down under a tank of angry sharks—it didn’t really matter. He had escaped the grave twice now and was getting better at scratching his way up from six feet under (well, the first time he had been dug up by accident—quite a shock for old Burke and Hare). He was very good at getting out of tight problems. 

This, however, was different. No box, no room with barred windows, no gags or chains. Just a forest, a big and empty forest with crunchy leaves along the ground. It was a little bit red around the edges.
Oh, it was painfully silent. Hyde felt it press in on him like an otherworldly humidity. It obstructed him a little as he tried to speak.