Just as he sighed inwardly, thinking 'I'm doomed this time,' he realized, after waiting for a long time, that he hadn't felt any pain.
In fact, he hadn't even heard a sound of the wind.
He quietly opened one eye and found that Lady Cilla's swinging forelimb had stopped right at his nose.
"What's going on?" Little Sam was puzzled when Lady Cilla's body suddenly softened and collapsed to the ground with a crash.
As Lady Cilla fell, Little Sam finally saw the man standing behind her: "...Mr. Tyson?"
Frode stood in the shadows, half-lit and half-dark, with one hand still inserted into the gaping wound on Lady Cilla's spider-like lower abdomen.
He slowly pulled out his hand, revealing it to be blood-stained and semi-transparent.
Lady Cilla was undead, and Frode was a spiritual body, so there shouldn't have been any blood.
This blood belonged to Little Sam.
