Beth looked back and forth the boys, her eyes wide with shock. The more she struggled, the tighter their grip around her arms became. Their muscled arms hooked onto her soft flesh like claws, making her wince in pain. She knew that it was going to leave bruises on her skin.
"Why are you doing this?" Beth asked, looking desperately at the one who produced the black cloth.
"We've come to take you to the mansion." The boy replied while keeping a blank face. "The less you resist, the better for you."
She noticed that each one of them around her had the same manners and the same blank expression on their faces. No one would doubt that they were from the general's mansion, brought up under strict discipline.
