“Divine Bride!” “Where were you?” “Why didn’t you help us?”
The cries of the despairing villagers echoed all over the morgue’s main lobby, but none of them moved. They just crowded the lobby, staring down at Milan. Their hands were kept on the sides, and their mouths were left in a line. However, the noises they made only grew louder the longer Milan stared at them.
Milan was not scared of corpses; he could only be terrorized by the sight of where and how they were killed. He was not scared of ghosts; he could only be sent into shock by their haunting.
“Divine Bride…” A crisp and manly voice called out his title, and Milan quickly snapped out of his trance. When Milan looked over behind him, Owen held both of his shoulders. “You’re blocking the door. Did you get caught in something?”
