She steadied herself and tilted her head just enough to see. From the villa strode a tall man. He dragged an old woman by the arm as if she were a filthy rag. Her body hung limp and lifeless in his grasp. "I figured you'd last two days, maybe three," he said in a cold mutter. "Didn't expect you to hold on for a month. You're stubborn, I'll give you that. "Thanks to you, I've had plenty of entertainment." He sneered at her. "Next time around, don't cross the wrong people. That way you'll die easy. No goodbyes from me." He strode to the gate. He unlatched it, swung it open, and heaved her corpse with a violent motion. The little boy at the roadside saw the gate open and bolted into the ruins nearby, his body pressed low. He had barely crouched when the body struck the ground beside him. The crash thundered so loud the rubble shook. The boy's eyes flared wide. The candy in his mouth slid down his throat too quick. He swallowed hard, his face reddening as he clutched his lips, fighting for breath. He pushed his cough back down his throat until the man had vanished back inside. Then his chest shuddered with a soft rasp. The woman crouched in the yard, watching the villa door close again. She paused, thinking, then slipped back without risking the windows. She reached her son first. She patted his back until she felt his breath steady. Then she walked to the body cast aside in the dirt. Her face hardened at the sight of the mangled flesh. The woman's head and white hair remained whole, but her body was carved apart. Deep wounds gaped across her arms, chest, and legs.Some were fresh, still oozing. Others festered and crawled with decay. Her torment was clear and drawn out. Thin steel needles jutted from her skin, half-driven. The woman dug one out with her knife. The metal bent and stained dark, worn by repeated use. Her jaw clenched. Pictures of torture burned in her mind. She stood silent for a moment, then gripped her son's hand. "This house belongs to a monster," she whispered. "We're leaving. The next one." The boy gave the villa one last glance, then followed at her side. They walked the main road, flanked by villas half-broken or long abandoned. Fog pressed in thick, smothering all distance. They could only see step by step. At last the woman spoke. "This place is worse than we thought." The boy tucked another candy into his mouth. His voice was small. "Mom, do we still keep going?" Her answer was firm. "Of course. Our people are waiting." Soon her eyes caught another house, its walls still whole. She scaled the fence, wire in hand, and pressed her face to the glass. She studied the inside for long minutes. She slipped back, wound up the wire, and called to her son. "This is the one. Let's go." The boy rose, brushing dirt from his pants. "Is there a man inside?" She nodded. "Yes." "Only one?" "It seems that way," she said, then paused. "But I can't be sure. Someone could be upstairs. We'll see when we get inside."The boy frowned. "Why does it have to be a man?" Her eyes narrowed. "Because men are easier to sway when they face a woman. That's how the world works." The boy nodded slowly, still unsure but silent. They stood at the villa's gate. The woman raised her voice, strong and clear. "Hello! Is anyone home? "Excuse me, is somebody there?" Her shouts carried, and soon footsteps answered. A man stepped into view. His cheekbones jutted sharp, his face gaunt, his features twisted ugly. He glared at them from the yard. "What do you want?" The woman pulled her son in front of her, her voice soft and pleading. "Hello, sir. We're refugees. We have nowhere to stay. Could you give us shelter for just a few days?" The man's brow furrowed deep. His eyes narrowed. "Refugees? How the hell did you get in here?" The woman clutched the boy, her voice breaking. "We're from Broadview District up in Northlorn. When the fog rolled in, the city collapsed. People slaughtered each other. So many died. My family is gone. Only my son and I are left. We fought our way out ... " The man cut her off with a scowl. "I didn't ask for your story. I asked how you got in. The gate's guarded. Where are the security men?" Her pitiful mask slipped for a heartbeat. This one is sharp. He doesn't believe a word. He couldn't care less about our story. He will feel no sympathy for us.She forced her face back into sorrow. Her voice stayed low and fragile. "When we came, the guards were fighting each other. They'd lost their minds. The gate was open. I ran through with my boy before they even noticed." The man's frown sank deeper. "The guards were so wild they ignored you?"