The smell hit me first. Iron and salt, thick in the air like rusted chains and old memories. My stomach twisted, my chest wound tight. Like my insides was trying to choke me from want. Begging, pleading, telling me to do anything to soothe this hunger.
The last time I've done this, was back in that cave, while Ravić and I was on the run. I've soiled all the beautiful memories in it because I was hungry and we were trapped. We had drunk them all. The troops that stormed inside that very place. And the guilt was still eating me alive.
I've told myself that it was self-defense. I've been telling myself that every time my mind would replay that memory. But the guilt never felt. Those men, they had families that depended on them. I would know. My father used to be one of them. And Ravić and I...we killed them all.
