A corpse.
Suspended from the tree trunk, bleeding profusely from its wounds as the fresh blood trailed downwards following the contours of the bark.
The dead eyes remained open, fixed squarely on those who dared to gaze upward at it.
"Ahhhh!"
A scream tore through the air, a sound of absolute despair and heart-wrenching agony, as Henry recognized the body — his companion, Jonny.
"Shut the fuck up!"
A resounding slap echoed, delivered by Thomas, swiftly silencing Henry as he collapsed unconscious to the ground.
"Newman, your head works better than mine, what is this, a war letter to us?" Thomas queried, his face contorting with frustration and suspicion.
"It seems like it unless he is some kind of spellbeast that enjoys dangling its prey from trees for a slow enjoyment," Newman speculated with a grimace, before adding, "His methods do resemble those of a dark magus, though."
