The village streets were empty, hardly anybody passed along them. The ruined buildings complimented the lonely aura that it exuded, as well as the innumerable corpses that lined along, half of which were rotting to the bone. All of their faces were severely disfigured, and amongst the rubble the souls of innocent lives shouted for vengeance. A limping hooded figure walked along, unwilling to answer their cries as he himself did not know what had happened and what exactly he had stumbled upon.

　　His face was obscured, but his olive skin was full of rashes, cuts, and bruises. He had bandages wrapped along the most injured parts of his body, but the pain just kept reeking out. He wanted to cry out for help, but he didn`t know who was going to hear these fruitless endeavors. Moreover, he was determined to walk out for whatever reason he never remembered.

　　He reached for the gate, rested and took a moment.

　　The sky was an ashen gray, the clouds gathering in for a mockery of the dead. They let out some drizzle but not for long. The mistral wind`s laugh echoed through the ruins of a bakery nearby, and the hooded figure was frightened for he thought of a horrid thought which he couldn`t exactly decrypt.

　　The figure stood up from his rest, and continued walking. He feared for the beasts that inhabit the outer walls of the village. He had no idea of what could possibly be out there, and the thought terrified him. But he could not stay in the village. Those men he had seen were out to massacre them all. He hurried down, but his leg gave way and he tumbled down to the beach. More bruised than ever, he was now hardly thinking right.

　　Perhaps a break from the thoughts could better himself. It could bring him away from this vision of hell that he had sent upon from their worthless souls. The questions rambled on and on, debate after debate, what even was a debate anyway? He only knew one thing, he had almost no time left. These questions of what had happened remained unanswered as his thoughts drifted away and something deep within him was exterminated.

　　The hooded figure lay on the beach, his breaths shallow and labored. He had no idea how long he had been there or how he had ended up on the shore. The sound of waves crashing against the rocks was the only thing that interrupted the eerie silence of the desolate village.

　　As he struggled to regain his strength, memories flooded his mind. The chaos, the screams, the bloodshed. He had been part of it all, but he couldn`t remember how. He couldn`t even remember his own name. But he knew that those men were after what they had been practicing for millennia.

　　He knew he had to keep moving, to find some kind of shelter or help. He forced himself to stand up, ignoring the pain that shot through his body with every movement. He limped along the shore, hoping to come across any signs of civilization.

　　But the landscape remained unchanged, except for the occasional corpse that washed up on the shore. The hooded figure shuddered at the sight, but he couldn`t afford to be distracted by his fear.

　　Hours turned into days, and the hooded figure trudged on, his body growing weaker by the minute. His mind was consumed by the endless questions of what had happened to this village and its inhabitants.

　　Finally, he collapsed on the shore, his eyes closing for what he thought would be the last time. But as he drifted into unconsciousness, a faint sound caught his attention. It was the distant bark of a dog.

　　The hooded figure forced his eyes open, a glimmer of hope flickering in his heart. He stumbled towards the sound, his body protesting every step of the way. As he rounded a bend in the shore, he saw a small house in the distance, surrounded by a fence. A dog was barking frantically at the gate.

　　With renewed strength, the hooded figure limped towards the gate, calling out for help. He didn`t know who lived in the house or what dangers lay ahead, but he knew he had to take the chance. For the first time in days, he felt a spark of hope.This narrative has been purloined without the author`s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

　　The dog`s barks grew louder as the hooded figure approached the gate, and he could hear someone calling out to the animal from inside the house.

　　"Who`s there?" a gruff voice called out from within the fence.

　　The hooded figure hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to answer. He didn`t even know his own name, let alone how to explain his situation. But he knew he had to try.

　　"I...I need help," he called out, his voice hoarse and weak.

　　There was a moment of silence, and the hooded figure feared that he had been ignored. But then the gate creaked open, and a man emerged from the house. He was tall and muscular, with a thick beard and piercing blue eyes.

　　"What do you want?" the man asked, his tone suspicious.

　　"I don`t know," the hooded figure replied honestly. "I don`t remember anything. I just...need help."

　　The man studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Come inside," he said, gesturing towards the house. "We`ll get you cleaned up and see if we can figure out what`s going on."

　　The hooded figure felt a surge of gratitude towards the stranger as he limped through the gate and towards the house. He still had no idea what had happened to the village or its inhabitants, but he knew that he was one step closer to finding out. And for now, that was enough.

　　-break-

　　"You`re lucky that Milou found you. But I`m more surprised about how you could still be moving. You`re a bag of bones." The man exclaimed, tending to the wounds of the hooded figure. "How long have you been like that? These are serious wounds you`ve got on you."

　　The hooded figure sat silently, busying himself with his thoughts. It was a rude gesture not to answer the question, but he did not know that. All he knew right now was that he was being helped by a kind man. This man was skilled at what he was doing, as he wrapped the bandages more securely than he did.

　　"Can`t talk anymore? Fine by me. You need to rest for a while here."

　　His home was a small one-room cabin, furnished sprucely with very little. He was lying down on the only bed inside, and the muscular man sat by him. His dog, a Labrador, was napping on the other side of the room. The entire home was lit by two gas lanterns which dimly lit the room. It was the best that this home could offer.

　　The hooded figure appreciated it.

　　"Excuse me& Where are we?" He asked in a weak, almost silent voice. "Where are we? What day is it?"

　　"It`s Monday, September 15. We`re in my cabin by the beach." The man replied, twiddling his big thumbs together. "Do you remember where you came from? You don`t look like someone from here."

　　"I don`t remember," the hooded figure replied weakly. "I woke up on the beach, and it was...it was like a nightmare. There were bodies everywhere, and everything was destroyed. I don`t know how I got there or what happened. My home, strange men destroyed my home."

　　The man nodded thoughtfully. "I`ve heard rumors of something happening, but I didn`t believe them until now. It sounds like you`re one of the survivors."

　　The hooded figure looked up at him, hope in his eyes. "There are others? Do you know where they are?"

　　The man wistfully turned his eyes away, "They were taken away. I don`t know where, but they were taken away in a faraway place."

　　"Oh." The hooded figure closed his eyes, before breaking down in tears. "They`re after people like me. I can use magic, and they`re after us for no reason!"

　　The man put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It`s alright, son. You`re safe here with me and Milou. We`ll figure something out."

　　The hooded figure wiped away his tears and looked at the man with gratitude. "Thank you. Thank you for saving me and for being so kind."

　　The man smiled warmly. "It`s the least I could do. You`re welcome to stay here as long as you need to."

　　The hooded figure nodded gratefully. "I don`t even know your name."

　　The man chuckled. "I never got around to telling you, did I? My name is Jack."

　　"Thank you, Jack. My name is..." The hooded figure trailed off, realizing that he couldn`t remember his own name. He searched his memory but came up blank. It was as if his past had been erased.

　　"It`s okay, son. You don`t have to tell me your name if you don`t want to. We`ll figure things out together." Jack reassured him. "There`s a guild in the town nearby, so once you`ve healed up, you can support yourself. You`re welcome to stay here, Milou and I love people`s company."

　　The hooded figure nodded, feeling a sense of comfort from Jack`s words. He knew that he was in good hands and that he would get through this with Jack`s help. For now, he would rest and recover his strength before facing the unknown future ahead of him.