Prologue
It was one of those night, one which radially radiated darkness and isolation. Not a star, or even the moon could push its light through the blanket of rainclouds that hovered over the mountains.
A lone swirl of embers escaped the bonfire that had been built near a tent. It now lay torn to pieces.
Tens of tents, Hundreds of raging fires that were left for the scavengers.
Among them, scattered bodies, leaking blood, most with their eyes skyward. They stared at everything and nothing. Like a carpet of fur and limbs, that would soon be a harvesting field for maggots, flies and vultures.
A single man glided over the debris, his gait one that indicated ease and grittiness.
Not a single sign of life. Not a single sound. This place had already turned into a graveyard.
Except for the one girl that writhed, some steps away from the river that ran red. Her fingers, pale, slender, the only part that had been left unscathed, pulled at the grass. Her hand continued dragging her half-dead carcass, in a vain hope that she would get a gulp of water before eternal peace met her.
Torturously, painfully, two hours went out. It must have been midnight, but the night was as dark as ever.
Her panted breaths beat like a long-familiar chant in her ear. She could feel the coolness touching her fingertips, the damp mud. Few minutes later, her fingers touched the wet and flowing river.
She didn’t notice, didn’t care whether it was diluted by the blood of her own. Shaking fingers brought the drops to her tongues. Her eyes closed.
At that moment, the small edge of the moon made appearance. Still shy of the barbarous slaughter the earth bore witness too.
Her heartbeat slowed. A soft wind blew at her hair, making the matted tendrils bite at the slashes in her cheeks. Through the blur in her eyes, she saw that suddenly the land wasn’t as grey as before.
One last time, she told herself. Just once.
It was excruciating, her final wish to herself. To die before the moon, like her comrades who had their eyes glued to the ephemeral rock silently sitting above.
All she could manage to do was tilt her head. Barely. Another twitch, a wrong move, and the remaining of her bones would snap.
She squinted, lifting her eyes. Ever so slowly, lifting them to the sky.
The moon hadn’t shone. Or if it had, her line of sight had been blocked by something. Something extremely high up, blackened by the falling light.
Strangely, it seemed to cock its head.
A gasp left her mouth. Tears tried to fill her eyes but they were too dry. Help, she wanted to croak. But even that was an impossible task.
So instead she, with that one good palm left, wrapped it around his ankle.
She blanched. No, she thought, her body trying limp away on instinct. She didn’t know him and she did. A scavenger worse than the one that would come with the sun. He was a ruffian, he was a criminal.
Her gut recoiled. She hoped harder for death than she had ever before.
He was breathing heavily, looking down. It was a dexterous pose, paint worthy even. No one had ever seen him act this way. Not one of the bony-limped, blanched flesh-eaters that had followed behind.
The corners of his lips crooked. He licked his lips, grinning like a maniac, tasting the sweet odor of her. Already her blood seemed to moisten his throat…
The moon had disappeared by then, back in the safety of the oblivion.
Far, far away, the howl of a wolf filled the bleak air.
