Jonathan ran swiftly in the direction where Zebulon had vanished. It wasn't long before he found him. Zebulon was huddled in a flowerbed by the side of the road, surrounded by a large pool of blood that dyed the soil and plants a deep crimson. The flowers and grass had already begun to wilt.
Zebulon had slain the Heteroblood.
Upon Jonathan's silent arrival, Zebulon startled. "We need to clean up this scene thoroughly; we can't leave any blood behind, or it will mutate the local organisms," Jonathan spoke in a hushed tone.
Rising from the ground, Zebulon's face was etched with complexity, as if he was on the verge of saying something but hesitated. "John, I..."
"First, let's take care of this," Jonathan interjected with authority. "Nighttime brings police patrols, and we can't afford to delay."
Zebulon repressed whatever he was about to say and nodded.
