"Fuck my life, fuck my luck, fuck this walking arrogance I call my master!"
Thomas said as he exhaled sharply, panting from exhaustion, his shoulders nearly exploding from the weight of the bags he carried. Sweat dripped from his forehead into his eyes, mixing with tears he no longer cared to hide. He had long passed the stage of being ashamed to cry he had crossed the boundary of composure the moment he became the personal servant of him.
The forest stretched endlessly. Its trees were dense, their leaves dark as if they were oozing hatred. The air smelled of humidity, moss, and fresh blood. Strange sounds echoed between the trees screeches, beasts, and a faint roar foretelling death. Everything screamed: "Run." But Thomas knew there was no escape... because he followed Raine Lockard.
"Oh, only five? How disappointing."
