Night shielded the capital. Public safety blocked access. Barricades of armored vehicles laid in wait. The public's attention was drawn to no avail. People were fascinated by death. Upon the news of a murder, the curious rushed for a sneak peek. Photos circulated the underbelly of the Arcanum.
A white overlay hid the disheartening sight. No matter the fascination with the afterlife. When someone dies gruesomely, no matter their stomach or level of resistance, the pain fuels the fear for one's ultimate end.
Black cars rushed the riverbank. The latter was a park of the outer 'exercise' area. A running path turned attraction. Blonde hair immediately darted the grassy slopes, men in uniformed allowed entry, albeit nervously. What they protected was crude and vile, the investigators barely took a look and decided no.
"Excuse me," said Julius.
