Out in the dark, living ruins of Pilta, Lita’s gentle step guided her across the rubble. Abandoned barricades lay as little more than rotten wood to clutter the cobbled street- the only remnant of a misguided soul’s attempts to vainly resist their overlords- their fate... but as Lita knew all too well- none could resist him. The fragrance of burnt flesh hung over the streets, intermixed with the wet paneling used to fuel the fires scorching the dead. The rain had washed away most of the blood, but signs of the populace’s struggles still littered the cobbled stones- improvised weaponry and armors too worthless for even the cannibals to add to their hoarded goods.

She had seen men, women and children desperately board up their houses and shelters in a futile attempt to keep the Beasts out, but to no avail... When the nature of men came knocking, there was little point to even try to resist... A wooden house... could easily be turned into an improvised oven. The rats had once picked the discarded bones in the street clean, but now, only the microflora would touch those abandoned corpses, as the rats had been the first to be hunted.

With her eternal smile, she closed her eyes and listened for His guidance- the directions he had given her. She turned to the left- to an alleyway in between tall, mostly unharmed buildings. There, she would find her prize. Wandering between the houses, she kept her ears sharply attuned for any sniffles, but had learned not to expect them- not these days. The ones who still lived were the silent ones- the ones who had been quick to accept Pilta’s condition... the human condition.

Door by door stood half-open, their barricades long since broken open- all save for one. At the end of a tall, stone step, she saw a closed door and on the walls on either side, she could see boarded-up windows. Her cautious feet carried her up the stair, where she raised her hand to knock on the wood and waited for the scuttling inside to cease.

“This must be where You led me...” She whispered and lay her hand on the door. Something glanced at her from the side-window to see her small, white form- her feminine, narrow chin clear below her white hood. The interior of the small house grew viciously loud as the hungry men inside tore away wood and stools to hurriedly open the door and behold the sheep that had wandered into their wolves’ den.

Two men and two women- all of whom were clad in tattered rags, held hatchets and pitchforks up towards her. The first of the men- the one who had opened the door reached for her, only to freeze mid-motion before he could ever lay his fingertips on her robe. She stepped forth and saw the dark interior with her own eyes. They had clung to their social constructs- having cleaned the floors and set the table for a feast. The fireplace crackled behind the trio of confused barbarians, while they stared their wide eyes towards her.

One-by-one, they met her deep, green eyes and froze, just as the man by the door had. Next, she turned towards the table- in the direction of the small kitchen corner, where a child sat up against the wall... a young boy- no older than perhaps six. He was in chains and filthy as could be- clothed in little more than sackcloth and feces. Upon seeing her, his eyes widened- he had heard of her... everyone had. The Angel that would come down from the Garrison to take children away from their torment had come for him and him alone. He squeezed his eyes shut and began weeping his courageous tears as she continued over the floor to crouch down next to him. The chains that had kept his small form stationary for the past day clicked and loosened at her touch- fell to the floor in metallic clinks.

“All is well... worry not, my Child. I will take you away from this place.” Frightened as he was of the four who had caught him- killed his sister and eaten her before his eyes, he would be mad to resist looking into her green... deep... eyes.

The two wandered out from the house, just as the four left behind began moving. An hour past, they might’ve set after her and the child in his sackcloth garb, alas... now, all of them walked towards the crackling fireplace- dropping their weapons by their sides. One-by-one, they knelt down and crept forwards into the stone construct- squeezing their heads in front of one-another to insert their faces into the flames- biting into the embers to sear their tongues, mouths and lungs with the scorching charcoal. Noe a one screamed- not even as the fats of their cheeks leaked free from their fasciae- not even as their eyes popped and spurted out to momentarily douse the raging flames... for all they could see- all they could feel and fear, were the lingering, green eyes.