Tell me where they are,” the monster growled. He was large and rotting with cheeks that already had holes where the skin was eaten away. His earlobes were hanging and large dangling hoops were strung through. A dark tuft of hair sat in the middle of his balding and dirty head. His eyes were black and shifted as he spoke. Kicking the old woman in the back, he laughed as she fell to the ground at the foot of the bridge leading to the gazebo. Her face hit the ground, bloodying her bottom lip, and she cried as he spoke. “Talk or you’ll be gutted like your miserable insect of a husband.” She attempted to get up as he stomped on her back, forcing her into the gritty dirt once more. Pete had lowered the two to the floor and covered Gwen’s mouth instructing her not to make any noise. Still standing behind her he whispered barley loud enough for Gwen to hear. “Don’t make a sound or he’ll hear us. He can’t see us. Call Andrew.” Horrified, Gwen raised her hand to her chest.
