Chapter 15 A Slave To Fate

• The overhead lights shifted to a menacing crimson, signaling the building's lockdown. With a deafening thud, all doors slammed shut. Argent, her task complete, moved stealthily from the mansion’s entrance to the next checkpoint at the River border.
• The only escape route lay in the hands of Mr. Dawson, whose fingerprints were now a gruesome souvenir in Hound's possession—both hands severed and hidden away. The acrid scent of burning flesh filled the air, remnants of a desperate act to keep Daryl from bleeding out. In the center of the room stood the Dawson family, Emily among them, bound and gagged as if they awaited execution, their muffled whimpers slicing through the tense silence.
• “I’ve been waiting for you, Erlin,” Hound’s voice reverberated through the dimly lit room. His guard mask lay discarded on the floor, revealing a morbid expression, one that seemed perpetually trapped between mirth and madness— the guard that followed him, pierced by his own sword.