A loud anguish cry bellows throughout the forest on a cold winter night.
“Papa! Papa!” A boy sobbed to his lifeless father. A man wipes the blood off and sheathes his blade.
“Papa! Don’t leave me, Papa!” The boy clenches his fist as his tears fall onto the side of the bed. The tears are absorbed by the cloth bed sheet that was thrown to the side of the bed.
A small cottage in the winter forest horrors lights the space around it. Outside rests a dull ax for chopping wood snuggled between a crack of the stump. Logs await outside for the morning delivery. Snow lightly decorating the fine wood that’s been chopped. A boy inside witnessing the devastating murder of his only family.
“What do we do with the kid?” A man states to another his face covered by an executioner’s mask. The other with what seems to be just a black shirt tied around his head. Both the men are wearing battered leather armor. Dark brown gloves to hide any sort of sight of their hands. Legs protected from the elements with fine chainmail. Brown boots with fur around at the opening leading inside.
“Leave him be. Without his father to protect him or to care for him. No god can save him from the elements now.” The man with the shirt said calmly
“Now to fulfill our contract we must do one last thing.” He said as he slid an ax over his shoulder.
The masked man grabbed the kid and pulled him away from the bed. The boy crying and reaching out for his father
“PAPA!” The boy screams for his father. His scream ringing out throughout the forest.
“This way.” A hooded man whispers to his comrades.
“What do you think we’ll encounter here? Isn’t this the forest of horror for a reason?” His comrade asks him as he walks.
“There’s no doubt we will, but that was a human scream, and we are the only ones that are on patrol in this area. We have to look out for stuff like this according to the lord’s decree.” He affirms.
“Yeah, I guess we have to.” He lights a cigarette off his torch and smokes it as they walk.
“Up ahead. Looks like we found where it came from.” The man alerts his comrades of the house they’re approaching. A well-sized cabin made of logs with a slanted roof. The stump sitting peacefully with no sight of an ax anywhere. The light from the windows flicker and grow dim.
“Ready your spears men. We don’t know what will happen once we approach the cabin.” The hooded man says. The squad takes a defensive position and approach the cabin and peer through the windows. They see a headless man on the straw bed and slowly open the door
“Attention! We are the Guards from Troyoh! Show yourselves!” The hooded man says as he walks through the door.
Walking through the door he sees a boy sobbing and holding an ax towards the men that have entered his house. Tucked away in the corner in front of the bed. His eyes closed the tears still streaming down his face.