Respin had gone to Amaris’ home multiple times, he knew the path even if he were blindfolded. And, like always, he made good progress and reached her small cottage within only two and a half hours. With relief, he noticed that Cetus’ blue moon had barely risen above the horizon. This meant that he had still enough time to look for Amaris as the sun wouldn’t rise in a couple of hours. Still, Respin had to factor in the way back to his home. To walk in the light of the blistering blue giant Cetus was orbiting, was insane. Within seconds his skin would blister and his eyes be blinded. A fate no sensible Menkar wished upon another.

Once the small wooden cottage came into view, Respin walked faster until he ran to it. The only thing stopping him from bursting in was his sense of manners returning to the front door. He remained a moment motionless in front of it and caught his breath before knocking.

But once he regained his composure, he felt his sixth-sense tingle.

He flinched.

Never before had one of his psychic abilities acted up this intense. It seemed to urge him to run away instead of entering the cottage. As if a big hand was trying to push him back.

Respin didn’t yield.

He needed to look for Amaris. He ought to stay. He ought to help her.

Slow he lowered his hand on the door-handle. There was no sense in knocking. Doing so would only alert whatever his sixth-sense warned him about.

He barely touched the door as it swung open without a sound. Behind it, he was greeted by total darkness and an even more intense reaction of his sixth-sense.

Respin knew that Amaris would have never left the door open for anyone to bust in uninvited. It was odd and moreover it made his heart feel like it could stop any moment.

Don’t go in!

An inner voice was telling him over and over.

Don’t you dare!

Run!

But Respin needed to know if something had happened to her. Perhaps she needed his help. He was her only hope. There was no one else who would bother to look for or help her.

Chewing his lower lip, he pulled one of the knives out. Clumsy he aligned the blade with his wrist before he took a step through the ajar door. Somehow the weight of the knife wasn’t awkward anymore but reassuring instead. Holding it tight he entered the dark cottage and looked around, not daring to call for her.

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Once his eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness inside the cottage, he noticed the utter chaos it was in. Although Amaris was never one for clean-up, this was too much clutter to have been generated by her alone. And the fact that all lights were out and only the moon was illuminating sparse spots through the windows was a bad sign.

Respin cursed his stupidity to not bring a flashlight along. But he could not go back to his home. If he would do so, he knew, he would never dare to return. Now or never, this was his promise. And he intended to keep it despite his hands shaking in fear. Guided only by his night-sight and his sixth-sense he pushed past the front door and closed it.

The chaos grew in intensity the deeper he went into the cottage. First, it was only a few books and magazines spread across the floor. In itself somewhat common for Amaris. But the askew furniture wasn't. Neither the dirt scattered from the front door across the whole room. Further, in someone had thrown the furniture around and rendered it into huge chunks of wood, metal, and plastic.

It almost looked like an animal had shredded everything.

Slow Respin moved on.

Waiting for an attack that kept him waiting as the silence slowly suffocated him.

Still, his mind was playing all sorts of scenes of cruelty and murder. Slow but steady the knot in his guts turned into a ball of molten iron once he puzzled together what has happened.

Someone had most likely knocked and then forced his way in. Overwhelmed Amaris must've retreated deeper into her cottage while being hunted. She must have tried to block the intruder with her furniture. Too little to no avail.

This theory became bitter reality to Respin once found her pet, a Spitserpent. The 16 feet long animals was literally torn in half from the head to about its midsection. Its green blood was everywhere, smelling terrible. Spitserpents are famous for being dangerously fast and almost overprotective of their owners. So, its death didn’t bode well.

Respin felt his stomach and throat tighten.

After crossing the room, he found smears of grey blood on a wall and the door belonging to it. Although his rational mind was screaming at him to leave at once, he opened the bloodstained door with his free hand. His whole body trembled, but he needed to move on. There was no going back.

The moment the door swung open he was blinded by an intense bright spotlight. Instinctively he raised his hands to shield his eyes but it didn’t help him much. The pain shot directly into his brain and caused him to freeze on the spot. With teary eyes, he forced himself to stumble into the room. On his way, he fell over something on the ground. He remained face down for a few moments, panting. Once his eyes had readjusted to the light, he pushed himself up and suppressed a scream.

Next to the broken parts of a shelf he had tripped on was a pale greenish-grey arm. It rested in a small puddle of grey blood. Next to it was Amaris’ weapon of choice — a sharp needle-like short-sword covered in blood a slightly different shade of grey.

Unable to get to his feet, Respin crawled away from the arm until his back hit small shelf. In it was the spotlight, which cast his shadow like a grotesque monster against the wall.

A sudden sound above him made Respin almost yelp in fear. Hyper aware of his giant shadow on the opposite wall he threw himself away from the light. But before he could do anything else he was knocked out.