Nian's pupils trembled violently and a bead of sweat slid down his temple. He could not tear his gaze away from the victim whose struggle gradually ceased like a fish on the chopping board. The longer he stared, the more familiar that person looked to him as if… as if he was looking at himself.
In that harrowing moment, the first thought that crossed his mind was: have I died?
He vaguely recalled reading somewhere that departed would sometimes remain oblivious of their own death, roaming the world under the illusion of life. Could the same thing be happening to him right now? Had he died from this strange zombie attack and the one standing here was h–his soul?
