"What… have you done?" I asked. My heart ached when I saw Dexter so disoriented while covered in blood. I tried to walk over to him.
His skin was a lifeless pale white that starkly contrasted with the dark red of the blood.
I felt suffocated as an inexplicable panic washed over me.
"Please, don't come near me," Dexter pleaded, seemingly afraid of me seeing him in this state.
He frantically called out for Sophia as if he were afraid of losing her.
"Please don't look at me…" Suddenly, he dashed back into the room like a madman and locked himself in.
I knocked on the door, but he wouldn't open it.
There were still remnants of his bloody footprints on the floor.
Since my rebirth, I hadn't fully grasped the severity of Dexter's condition. I knew he had a mental illness, was considered unstable, and might even be capable of murder.
As far as I could recall, he appeared quite stable as long as he wasn't provoked.
