A:N: Hi, I'm the author (obviously). I'm often going to put music recommendations at the beginning, or throughout each chapter if you really wanna boost your immersion. Thank you! :)
"Turn around. Slowly."
George, facing the wall where he had just hung up his cloak, jerked at the sudden raspy vocalization from behind him. He silently cursed the gods. Bandits? All the way out here? George's cottage sat nearly three miles deep in the woods- way too out of the way for it to be worth robbing. Maybe he was just unlucky.
The prison's siren continued to blare in the distance. He still couldn't comprehend the current situation around that, and now he had been thrust into another drama.
"Now!" they barked.
"You can take what you want," George responded calmly without turning to face the intruder. "I don't want any trouble." Yes, George thought. This is the best way out. Not like I have much to take, anyways. He resigned himself.
The intruder let out a small, questioning huff. "Your-your accent..."
George, with his hands up, slowly turned around, his eyebrows furrowing at the man's strange comment.
It was dark in the foyer, but he could still make out the man- no, on second thought, the boy standing a few meters away. The feral-looking creature gripped a knife in his right hand, and had scraggly, long dirty-blonde hair. He looked like he hadn't had a full meal in months. As for his clothes...
An orange prison jumpsuit?
The boy's grip on his weapon loosened slightly.
A heavy atmosphere settled through the dim cottage. Sudden realization flushed across both their faces.
the siren ceased.
And then they heard shouting.
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