As water poured down on Intervar, he massaged his face. The blood was staining the shower's bottom and whirling down the drain. On his stiff shoulders, the hot water felt soothing.
He was alone now, with just the water to distract him from his worries. He could still feel the gun in his hand; it had been light and simple before, but now it was heavy.
He considered whether he regretted it or not, but he couldn't say he did. Perhaps he was mistaken; she was nothing like that innocent child, but a monster like the rest of them.
He encircled himself with his arms, reminding him that he was still alone. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the rushing water, but it was all for naught. He was almost disappointed by the darkness; he had been anticipating a remembrance of anything but nothing.
