Again, the television switched off right as the message was finished playing through the dusty speakers.
"Died? What's he talking about? Happiness through violence?" Finn questioned, looking down at the room filled with empty cans and discarded plastic.
"A figure of speech, maybe? Though we've both experienced death, haven't we? It's not too far-fetched to believe somebody else has done the same," Crow guessed.
The more this went on, following along the intended showcases of the mind of the sinister stranger, Finn felt himself becoming lightheaded. Walking through the scenery forged of the killer's memories, it forced him to connect with them, having to feel the very same things they felt.
'It's like I'm being forced to retrace his steps. The blood on his hands…I can feel them on my own–it's disgusting. I hate it,' he thought.
