RedemptionDays passed since Sam's visit but I had eventually lost track of time. The only person to enter my room had been a five foot tall turtle-looking creature who served me stale bread and warm water twice a day without a word. The first time he brought my tray I couldn't tear my eyes from his hands. Four fingers, thicker than plump sausages and scaly like a fish, adorned each hand. When he dropped the tray in front of me, I grimaced at the sight of him. For days, I thought of him as nothing more than a servant until one day he came in with a rifle strapped to his back. That day he licked his leathery lips and locked on me with his soulless black eyes. I recalled almost soiling myself in fear, assuming it was my time to die. My fear proved unfounded. He merely dropped another tray of
