you try desperately to untie him. he finially falls to the ground but makes no movement, he just stares at you then points to the house. you look at the house then look at the child, you see him sprinting away.
There is movement near the ruins. A shadow just beyond the light that seems to fade, grow darker, and then fade again. You can hear a whisper on the wind, behind the rustling of the leaves. A man's voice. The words cannot be made out. But the tone is fearful.
Should pale death with arrow dread Make the ocean caves our bed Though no eye of love might see Where that shrouded grave shall be Thou! who hear'st the surges roll Deign to save the suppliant soul