Frya, Frya!

Sylvia let out a loud scream, her voice echoing a little before dying out among the forest's thick trees. The man on the ground suddenly groaned, startled by her cry. He struggled to look towards her, his face clearly pained from the exertion. When their eyes met, he tensed up and pulled out a knife, eyeing her warily despite his weakened state.

Sylvia stood there frozen, unsure of what to do or think at that moment. She had come out into the woods as part of her daily routine of picking herbs for the master’s house. Yet today she had come to make a most unusual discovery of a frightful sort. The man on the ground continued to stare at her, his body covered in terrible-looking gashes that left him bloodied everywhere. His eyes were a dark red color, something she had never seen before, and his features looked so foreign that she could not imagine to what people he belonged.