Look! It's him! The devil himself!" A voice rose above the crowd, breaking the silence of the early morning as Cedric was led down the narrow, cobbled street, wrist bound with a thick rope. Dirt clung to his skin, and his face was smeared with mud and exhaustion, only emphasizing the disheveled man he had become.
People gathered along the road, whispers growing louder until they melded into a fierce, angry hum.
As soon as they recognized Cedric, the crowd erupted, hurling insults, their voices rising in rage and grief. "Murderer! You Evil!"
Mothers held up tattered scraps of clothing and lockets, remnants of children who had disappeared, perhaps never to be seen again. Some of the fathers approached, trembling fists clenched, eyes red and wet as they tried to process the mixture of fury and heartbreak.
