It was an indescribable feeling, as if you could clearly sense some terrifying monster had just left this place, the remaining madness and sinister bones gnawing at everyone's nerves.
Pres stood frozen at first, then his stomach began to churn. He found it hard to suppress the feeling, bending over in painful dry heaves, his face distorted as if something was clawing at his insides, trying to crawl out of his body.
Lorenzo helped him up and escorted him outside the door, then strode back inside, his expression grave.
The entire room was covered in vivid red blood, as if it had experienced a storm, with all the furniture in disarray, blood splattered everywhere. It was hard to imagine all this blood came from one victim, and it didn't resemble the splatters from a slashing wound.
