That same night, whiles Ethan rested, with dreams of ancient battles between gods, the small town of mid-mount was witnessing silent brutality in the woods at the hands of a single man. The basement was under attack for the hundredth time in a little less than five years.
The night had started just like any other night. With booze, meat and cards. Dred had been in the Basement for a little over a week and a half and he had been in such a good mood throughout his stay that even Chuck, his friend, and the owner of the basement had found no excuse to kick him out like he usually did.
Dred's pocket was heavy with the night's winning and he was plotting his takeover of the Basement whiles admiring the curves of Chuck's girlfriend who was dealing the cards when a loud crashing sound came from upstairs.
