August paused running, struggling to say even one thing. He was standing on top of thousands of dead people, wasn't he?
Azrael passed by him, and it hit him. The person who brought death to all those people was her. And yet here she was, running around like nothing ever happened.
Those thousand people, young kids, women, all of their remains scattered in those frozen ground. Just the thought makes him sick to his gut.
"What's wrong?" Azrael stopped at her track, seeing August standing still in the same position for so long.
August didn't answer her. He looked at his palm, sensing something wet. They were red. His hands were covered in blood. Out of nowhere….why?
August's breath trembled, as fear surrounded him. What was happening? Why were his hands covered in blood, the white snow under him turned into a pool of blood.
August could feel the warmth of the blood as if it was melting the snow suddenly. With quivering lips, he tried to call out for help, but the vision was.
