The walls were covered with blood, and on the floor a large puddle of it was drying slowly, filling the air with a heavy metallic scent that seemed to linger in your lungs after each breath you took. In the middle of it, what had once been a man was completely still. In Scott’s opinion, it looked more like a pile of meat with some torn up clothes thrown on top than a dead body. With dead bodies (the very few ones he had seen before anyway), you could usually figure out where the head was.
Even so, identifying the corpse had been easy enough: the ID card with the name “R. Nicholson” written on it found in the dead body’s hand had been an obvious clue. The card, and the broken glasses on the floor.
Scott shivered and coughed, clenching his fists to stop his hands from shaking. Thoughts were racing at full speed in his head, but he couldn’t seem to grasp a single one. There were so many things to do and decide, and he didn’t even know where he was suppo
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