Amon froze after hearing him.
'Harvey and Mira? So I can meet them.'
"…What?" His voice was hoarse, barely audible.
Zerath's smile widened. "I thought you might."
Before Amon could react, Zerath grabbed him by the neck and yanked him upright. Amon gasped, his hands uselessly restrained as his feet dragged against the ground.
He bit his lips. 'Fuck! This bastard. Hah...this hurts, fuck!'
Zerath pulled him out of the tent and across the camp.
The outside world hit Amon like a wave.
Lanterns hung across rows of tents, but they were off now. It wasn't dark anymore, yet the area still remained gloomy.
Demons moved about casually. Some training, some talking none paying attention to the human being dragged past them like cargo.
Zerath stopped in front of another tent, only a short distance away.
"Come," he said. "Let me show you." He shoved Amon inside.
The smell hit first. Blood, Iron and old pain.
Amon's eyes widened as he took in the scene.
