trail. Indistinct shadows of men flashed and darted past open spaces in the foliage. Terrified shrieks erupted from his tranquil village.
Leaving the trail, Jayvyn hid in the bush at the edge of the clearing. Men he’d never seen before swarmed through the huts, tackling everyone—friends, mothers, fathers, uncles, elders—all of them! Fire and smoke leapt through thatched roofs. Some of the village men desperately tried to protect the others.
He looked over to his family’s hut and saw his father, whom he’d never known to be a fighter, madly wield his hoe at an attacker. His father hit the man, knocking him to the ground. Suddenly, from behind, a heavy knife fell, slicing deeply into his father’s shoulder.
Jayvyn knelt, paralyzed with fear as his father fell to the ground, blood running heavily from the wound. He looked on helplessly as his father tried to roll over and face his attacker, but the large blade came down, again and again, indiscriminately slashing his father until he lay still, a dark crimson ring blooming across the dirt.
His mother screamed.
She was being dragged, bruised and dirty, by her hair. His four-year-old sister, Ifetayo, cried hysterically as she, too, was pulled along by one arm. It was too much for his twelve-year-old eyes. Jayvyn couldn’t move for the terror he felt. What is happening?
A sudden jolt knocked him on his side, a massive boot landing heavily on his neck. He hadn’t heard or seen the man approach from his left. He looked up to see a pale face ringed in matted beard. It bristled with menace—teeth clenched, eyes glaring like a wild beast. This man was a demon, like nothing Jayvyn had ever seen before. His hair was tan and his skin white,
Peter D Brown, Author 