Ch 53. Sasha

As the old man has said, at the edge of the village, a small ramshackle hut stands at the end of a dusty path.

I make my way toward the shabby hut, a sense of foreboding growing in my stomach.

The thick fence is made of rough-hewn wooden planks, each one seemingly chosen for its sturdy nature and rough texture. The planks are old and weathered, with deep cracks and splits running through them. Moss and lichen grow in patches along the wood, adding to the fence's rustic appearance.

A combination of metal and wood makes up the gate, with the metal parts forming a series of vertical bars and the wooden parts providing a solid backing. The metal parts of the gate are rusted and pitted, with large flakes of rust peeling away in some places to reveal the dull gray metal beneath. The wood is weathered and worn, with cracks and splinters visible in some places.

The gate is a bit crooked, likely from years of use and exposure to the elements. Despite its worn appearance, the gate seems stur
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