Asdras did not understand hell. He had been taught that it was a place for evil souls after death. Yet he wasn't sure if it was real or just a symbolic idea. Still, the scene before him made him think that if hell existed, this village was either part of it or very close to it.

At the crow's call, Sixth silently beckoned him into his tent before going to his own. Asdras barely noticed the new faces as he entered; the first thing he saw was the glowing symbols.

The markings around his tent lit up in a fiery red hue, causing the nearby dust to scatter as if it feared becoming less than it already was. Then came the symbols by the fences. They blazed like fire, and a beam of light shot upwards, forming a dome of protection around their surroundings.

A spark ignited within him as soon as he saw it. He knew instinctively that he needed it; it was his lifeline in this strange place.

Suddenly, the spark within him was extinguished. It began with the crows perched in the trees. They circled the village in a macabre dance, warning them, then took flight as the trees began to transform.

Asdras couldn't process what his eyes were looking at, and so he fixed his gaze on a particular tree near the village entrance.

The tree stood twisted and gnarled. Its branches, naked and quivering in some ghostly ballet, raked across the soil like the skeletal digits of a cadaver. The bark, cracked and peeling, wept a thick, black sap that pooled at its roots, filling the air with the sickening stench of rotten flesh.

'By Saint Rose's mercy...'

Without warning, the tree began to shift. It started with a barely perceptible creak, like gnashing teeth. The branches swayed, and the bark cracked and crumbled, crushing the earth beneath.

Asdras felt a chill as he watched the branches twist and bend into shapes resembling arms. The trunk swelled, morphing into the grotesque figure of a torso.

Where the gnarled wood once was, odd shapes that looked like heads began to materialize. It was as if souls were smashed within this arboreal prison.

From inside the tent, he scanned his surroundings. Each tree adjusted its newly formed limbs with loud cracks and snaps.

His heart pounded against his ribcage, his breaths grew shallow, and a cold shiver ran down his spine. He stepped back three times until he stumbled, nearly touching the tent's wooden pole.

'I'm trapped in a nightmare! There has to be a way out, right? Right?!'

Suddenly, they heard it. The grating noise of heavy chains scraping against the ground. The discordant harmony of metal meeting wood and soil sent tremors through the tree's trunk, amplifying the chaotic rhythm of teeth grinding and bones splintering.

‘What is this?’

The sound was faint and muffled, yet Asdras heard it clearly. It resembled a humming melody but lacked warmth. Instead, it had an uncanny quality, like a crow mimicking a human tune.

Asdras watched the source of the melody approach. The creature roosted among the skeletal fingers of dead trees, a chilling blend of bird and human anatomy. It was as tall as the trees.

Its feathers, once shiny black, were now dull and ragged, clinging to its skeletal body like a decaying cloak. Its head resembled a crow's, hideously stretched with a sharp, raptor-like beak. Its eyes, twin orbs of unnatural crimson, cut through the darkness, radiating a frosty luminescence that ignited fear in Asdras.

Its bare ribcage, each bone visible, seemed illuminated from within by a soft light. Each step caused this spectral light to pulse, casting flickering shadows on the ground like a dying torch.

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The creature's limbs, frail and withered like autumn branches, ended in talons and chains. It shifted into view at the village entrance, producing a dry, rasping sound.

The beast lifted its arms, revealing chains bound to its fingers and wrists. In a frenzy, it clawed at the translucent red barrier that shielded them.

Each assault was punctuated by a piercing shriek, the same sound Asdras had heard before Sixth pulled him back to his tent. The monster's claws scraping the dome echoed like metal on glass.

‘This… is going to hold it, right?! They live here, so it must work, right?!’

Asdras tried to convince himself that the dome would protect him. He recalled the battered broom, feeling a sense of relief at having previously used it to dust off the symbols. Yet, a wave of despair washed over him as he pondered the possibility of being trapped here longer than he desired.

'No, no, no! He's going to lure the creature!'

Fear gripped him as he saw First emerge from his tent to confront the beast. Soon after, Sixth appeared; their tents were directly opposite his. Asdras was about to alert them when he noticed what Sixth held.

‘Wait! I know that! I think I used to have one.’

It was a lute. As Sixth's agile fingers pirouetted over the strings, he found himself entranced, rooted in place. The music held him captive in its rhythmic spell as he too exited his tent and joined the choir.

“Gather close and hear my plea,

For I’ve a tale of shadows free.

I sing of madness, dark and deep,

A twisted path, a soul to keep.”

The forest hushed to a whisper.

“In the shadows where nightmares grow,

A man was met by Twilight Crow.

‘Defeat the darkness,’ the crow did croon,

‘Or live by night, beneath the moon.’“

The earth, too, fell silent as the sun waged war against the encroaching shadows.

“The second man, by darkness swayed,

In shadows deep, his soul he laid.

He walked the path of shadow's breath,

A life entwined with thoughts of death.”

It became day again, and the creature stopped its attempts to break the dome.

“The third did yield to darkness' call,

Let madness rise, let reason fall.

Consumed by black, his mind did break,

The Twilight Crow his soul did take.”

The creature turned to a nearby tree, yanking it from its roots with brute force, then began a slow retreat back into the woodland.

“Three paths entwined by feathered fate,

The Twilight Crow did watch and wait.

In madness' grip or shadow's keep,

Or battling dark through endless sleep.”

Just like that, everything reverted to being as if it had been a dream. The symbols fell silent, and the trees returned to their normal shapes. The crows roosted on the branches, scrutinizing them with jet-black eyes.

The air was filled with the fresh smell of damp earth and grass, replacing the stench of blood and decay. The wind was warm against their skin, and the sunlight washed over them in a soothing orange glow, indicating it was likely mid-afternoon.

"What's that?" Asdras questioned, his eyes darting around in a feverish state, convinced he was seeing things.

“The Beast,” First replied as he walked closer to Sixth. “It came and went at odd times, and unfortunately…”

First glanced at Sixth, let out a sigh, and helped him return to his tent, his thoughts spilling over into spoken words.

“Unfortunately, it took Twentieth with it…”