Darius stood next to the dark bridge, almost gleaming in reddish sunlight. The witch's house lost his interest while he started slow tumbling steps towards the Sarus village huddled between mountains. The petrifying smell of burning tar and the abundant stench of blood carried over with the wind.

Darius recognized the clonking sound of a woodpile that he had left behind. His hands stopped carrying it while he was in awe of horror, looking at the burning home village. He could have left right there, but he could not. Darius had to look inside the village. In some tangible way, it felt like the right thing to do while his brains were in a storm of confusion. Deep inside, he knew from the first glance that his old life was over, and the promise of new life was not yet manifested.

Darius started running, avoiding sharp rocks on the village road while gathering speed. His thoughts were plank and muddled, and he only woke from it to dwell back into a worse nightmare. The poor excuse of a village gatehouse had collapsed for some reason. The rock foundation of the gatehouse had been punctured with some holes and wood plank walls had severe cracks on them, punctured as vicious monsters would do. The upper parts had collapsed on the pathway, and Darius had to climb on the gate remains.

Several parts of the wooden rubble were burning, and stale smoke covered his eyes with burning pain and smoke. While trying to avoid small fires Darius stumbled and fell from the rubble pile and his left hand took a vicious scar, probably from the nail of a random plank. He only noticed it while trying to rise on his feet at the entrance yard of the village. Minor wound with blood oozing on his tainted shirt lost its purpose while he looked in utter disbelief at the carnage of locals and guards in the yard.

Crushed old armours were full of bloody gore holes, and gushing and dripping blood pooled underneath once glorified guards of the village. It seemed that some beasts had ripped through all the guards in minutes. Weapons were broken, and bent some of the gears spoiled with the acid of tendrilgolems.

Usually, there was only one on rare occasions, met in deep dungeons of the mountains or in deeper parts of the forest where only a few could step on.

Darius looked around and felt an eerie feeling that a lot of things would change now, and otherwise, he could not comprehend what he was seeing. Darius snapped out of it and continued running the dark and dingy alleyway path towards home. The village was partially filled with smoke, and the bitter taste of tar in the air with the smoke sometimes made it difficult to see correctly with watery eyes.

His rampant running stopped nearby home, and he saw his father trying to rise from the ground while wounds on his throat and chest pulsated blood with every movement. Everything snapped back to focus, and Darius hurriedly ran next to father to help.

Darius saw his father lumping back to the ground and croaking with a quiet dry voice.

"Darius, take anything you need to survive and leave the village NOW!", Father started to cough blood and lost consciousness for the lack of breath. Darius tried to help but didn't know how. He lifted his father to sit on the wall, maybe helping with the throat, but he hunched back on the street cobblestones while blood pooled underneath him and stained his brown tunic with growing darker spots. His efforts only yielded gruesome bloody hands and growing despair for his father dying while he could not do anything.

*What did he say? Yes, leave, take everything, take.. Everything.. To. Survive.*, Darius thought in a muddled way. He looked around and didn't see anything moving about. Only a quiet echo of footsteps was his companion while Darius ran inside our old hut house made with grey planks and timber. Nobody was inside the house and Darius started rummaging all the places for useful items and money. There was not much of it, only a few Tranguils that rang in the sound of copper while he stuffed them inside his belt purse. Darius went to the kitchen to seek food, preferably dry food, for a long trip to come.

Dark shadows inside the house were moving while Darius moved from place to place to look for a pot, flint and steel. He could not do anything else than leave the village. He hadn't heard from any single soul within the village. The food shelf was too damn high. Darius had to push the coffer and clime on it to reach the upper shelves. His hands found some common medical herbs, dark violet Navarroroots for wounds and old glimmering crystal grass for all manner of ill. Darius tucked them into the green fabric purse he had found and added it to his belt. Darius threw a blanket with the improvised old potato sack and stuffed several potatoes into it. That wasn't much, but it had to do.

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While Darius was moving back to the main room, he heard noises of huffing and occasional crunching of bones outside. Standing still, Darius averted his eyes from the window. He couldn't see anything outside, but Darius stopped moving and started thinking about the situation while the back of his shirt dampened. The ugly feeling returned to him, and it began to lift every hair of his body.

*They are eating my father outside… Where can I get a weapon… I can't defeat these monsters…*, His forehead started sweating while his anxious heart was beating too fast. Darius was trying to regulate his breathing, not to avert whatever entity was eating his father's body on the street to come inside. He slowly sat on the old wooden floor while taking his time to make sense of things while hiding from monsters.

Darius hoped, no, he probably prayed for the first time in his life that the monster would not be interested in coming inside the house.

*Okay, I am in deep shit now. Everybody seems to be dead. I have to leave the place, but if I don't find enough food, I will die in the forest, and if I don't find anything to defend myself, I will die even sooner.*

While checking on the door for any uninvited shadow, Darius almost bit his lip for not ever learning to use the bow. He only knew how to hit things with an axe or blade, and he did not have any experience with a spear either. Well, there was none of these things available.

*I have to keep focus now. Otherwise, I will die.*

After waiting that felt like an eternity, the voices outside ended, and the huffing sound furthered away, muffling ever so slightly. Darius waited a solid minute before even looking outside of the window carefully. Regret came fast when he saw the gore of his father's body in bits and pieces on the ground, and Darius started puking on his home floor.

*Well, at least I don't have to clean this floor anymore*, Darius tried to chuckle quietly to gather the courage to go outside. While slowly walking outside, the sky had turned very crimson red, and the daylight was nearing its end. Darius knew he had one hour at best. Better make it count. There could be more monsters at night attracted by the smell of blood. He had a limited time to get inside the forest to one of his favourite locations, the old bear den. Darius used it to disappear from time to time and store a scattering of items he had stolen from the Forest witch.

Darius walks past his neighbour's half-destroyed old wooden house. First, he didn't find his neighbour, the geezer Malbus anywhere, and Darius started to rummage through his apple barrels for additional food. While Darius was stuffing apples into the potato sack, he heard faint yelling coming behind. Darius slowly turned his back while standing up and saw Malbus nailed on the wall by some monster's large piece of broken horn. His bowels hung outside from the open-cut stomach while he hissed curses at Darius.

"Boy! I knew you were thieving on my property, goddamn rubble folk. I should have hit your face, you deviant stupid kid!"

Darius did not share pleasant memories with his neighbour. Malbus was the epitome of an abusive cranky geezer who only worked to down everything later down his throat. He had repeatedly promised Darius money for firewood, but he rarely paid. It was like a chance of hit or miss to bring him firewood, but Darius had to do it every week anyway for the possibility of acquiring money for his family.

"Hey Malbus, Malbus, my old business friend, eh! How is it hanging?" Darius said bitterly while the sore feeling of my father's death weighed on him.

"Oi, you focking little turd rattle! If I could, I would kill you now with my own hands, stealing my apples!", Malbus retorted incoherently. Darius knew why Malbus was angry. The apples were an important source of cider and, therefore, almost a treasure to him in this forsaken poor village.

"Oi, shut up, old goof. Where is your axe? I need it to survive in the forest!" Darius yelled back at him without getting his turn while he seemed perfectly happy to give the rest of his life to curse Darius.

"Hahaha, you can go die a miserable death, kid. I don't care to be honest. You reap what you sow fo stealing!" Malbus sneered, pointing his crooked nose at him to highlight his disdain.

Dark anger numbed Darius, and he slowly took hold of his neighbour's hanging bowels and jolted down while Malbus started to scream.

"I don't have time for this shit, old goof. Tell me where your axe is, or I will continue this until you die!"

“AAAAK AAAAK!! Okay OKAY! Piece of shit, you can have my bloody axe. It's inside the house. I don't have the key, though." Malbus yell in pain and fear.

"Ahaa.. Well, have a fun time hanging there, goof, keep in touch."

As the door was closed, Darius had to break the window to get inside. After a bit of struggle and final curses from hunching Malbus, Darius got inside the house. The old rusty axe was leaning on the corner of the room. Darius took it and felt the comfort of having something to wield. Then his eyes averted to the kitchen door.