Genesis
Tan cornhusks stood tall, circling an overgrown yard of brownish grass, just in front of two dark eyes staring at a brick, two-story farmhouse, as a dark-skinned man crouched behind trees placed within a line of foliage that marked an end to the brutal forest that he and his twelve-year-old son and toddler daughter had narrowly escaped, after a nine-day excursion from their last safehouse. Though he could see his breath fogging in front of him, there was no smoke coming from the chimney standing beside the large house. He shifted his pupils from left to right, scanning the tree line, then tops of cornhusks again, before making sure nobody could be seen wandering around the house, nor any shadows lurking within. He took a deep breath then kept his knees bent and his shaved head down as he scurried to the back porch of the house, with only his maul in hand.