"..." I stare at my blood-soaked hands as my fingers tremble. The strong, metallic smell of blood mixed with other strange, foul odors is repugnant as I take in just how filthy I am.
I spent hours cleaning a wolf corpse, and I can't forget the disgusting things I saw—the viscera, the guts, and the other organs I was forced to remove while Eve kept ordering me to finish.
The strange sensation of the blade cutting through flesh as blood gushed out and soiled me, the weird sound of the blade separating the pieces, the initial warmth of the blood now just a negatively unforgettable memory.
As a person from the modern world, whose entire knowledge of violence is linked to games, being forced to do such a thing was simply too much to bear.
At some point, I was just operating on autopilot. I stopped responding and was too tired from crying, so I just kept going, waiting for Eve to tell me to stop.
