The last time Guy evacuated his stomach's contents so violently was in his first mission through Syria. The jaundiced, burned and bloated forms of people after they drowned in their blood was a gut-wrenching sight, one that completely wrecked his psyche.
That brutal image was now replaced with the sight of a literal hill of corpses caught mid-scream - as if their life was stripped out of them through the most painful methods of torture. Worst yet, this torture was self-inflicted. Bloody tear marks marred their faces, streaming down from their eyes; the victims didn't want to do it, but they could not stop themselves. Their eyes were lifeless, cradled carefully within their blood-stained palms, yet their hollow eye sockets were scraped clean with animalistic efficiency. Each and every single person inside that building had died the same, sick way.
