A group of sturdy people ran into the village in a single file on hundreds of hybrid horses, leaving lots of dust behind them.
The villagers were terrified as if they were having one foot in the grave.
The horse team stopped at the center of the village. The tallest black horse at the front swaggered forward.
The man on the horse was in his thirties or forties, with a fat face and cruel eyes. He seemed to be a rude and arbitrary man.
Whoa!
He held the reins, his nose smelling something in the air.
"Smells like blood," he said in a rough voice, looking at something in the distance.
There was a miles-deep large hole. The dirt told him that the hole had just been dug.
What drew his attention was the visible blood and flesh in it.
"Anyone here?! Get out immediately! You want me to have all of you tied?"
He flew into a rage right away, malicious looking.
Soon, some respectful old men walked out in terror.