I walk through the hallway of the shadow of death. I do fear evil, that evil which has possessed so many before, will possess many again, and still lurks here, its deeds barely done.
Crimson dots surround crimson splotches. Crimson streaks lead from crimson footprints. An eerie wind howls through the window. It makes me wish that I had religion; I would take out my cross and ward this evil away, but I have none. My will to live is waning, being sapped into the void of the room.
Flashes rouse my conscious mind, as snapshots of the situation are recorded for all time. You cannot record the emotion of this place, this event! I want to yell, but the futility overwhelms me.
Let them. What will they hurt, what pain will they cause, that could possibly outdo what has already been done? I take tentative steps, halting often, as I approach the window. I grasp at the wall beside me as I lean out, trembling.
There, in a pool of blood, in a pool of evil, lies the body. It’s beautiful. I am tempted to join it.