The afternoon sky was the colour of blood. "It’s an omen," Chosen One told the kin that stood beside him, his family. No Mercy, Badlands and Second Nature. His chest swelled with pride as he turned his head to look at each of them in turn, demanding and receiving eye contact and affirmation.
"We’re here to set Badlands free and to destroy her tormentors." It was all so simple in his mind. With their combined strength, the evil would fall and the swamp would be made a better place.
No Mercy had made the requested eye contact, but only briefly. He was twitchy and already filled with adrenaline. The heat of the upcoming fight was rushing through his veins and it was all he could do not to rush ahead. With gritted teeth and flared nostrils, he shifted on the spot and waiting to be set free.
Badlands and her little crusade was irrelevant, all that mattered was that Chosen One had told him this was a good thing and blood would be spilled.
Ahead of them all, in a dark corner of the swamp, surrounded by dense, wet foliage and murky water, was Witch Hunt’s den.
