The blood slowly flowed down from the wound, past the heel, to the sole of the foot, gradually dyeing that small white patch of the floor red.
Aldana Candi lay on the ground, staring up at the ceiling.
The pain in her foot and the coldness of her body made her nearly collapsing mind somewhat dazed.
It felt like her soul evaporated from her body, scrutinizing the wretched flesh from above.
The mottled bite marks and kiss marks on her upper body, the blood slowly flowing down from her feet, and the pain that seemed to tear her soul apart...
It was like going back to the day she first lost the ability to stand.
She lay on the cold floor, looking up at the ceiling above her, her heart filled with thoughts of revenge, yet now she regretted it. If she could return to that day, she would definitely tell her naive self—not to go looking for Steven Balance when she got hold of that scalpel.
She should have plunged that knife into her own chest.
