By the time I got there, the blood had dried.
The red droplets mocked me, a spray of life, left behind to
taunt me, to make me envision what had happened there, what was done to him.
I tried to piece something, anything together, a clue, a
hint, even just a fucking direction to move in. But there was nothing, just the
line of dried fluid on the ground. I couldn’t take my eyes off it, my entire
being focused solely on the blood of my kin.
So I didn’t realise they were above me until it was too
late.
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