The wind smelled of blood and flesh. Franciskus was bathed with both.
“Franciskus, what have we done?” Vittouri went close to Franciskus who was in his knees as he stared straight. He just slaughtered all of them.
“Franciskus, are you fine? Franciskus!,” she shake him as he was staring into oblivion.
“Vittouri. We're now safe. I will not lose you. No one shall separate me from you.”
“Oh Franciskus, I am yours and yours alone. No one will ever change that even the gods.” she bend her knees and embraced his wholeness in her warmth. She didn’t care of the blood smeared all over his body.
But suddenly he shouted. His voice was pain.
“Franciskus! Why?”
“M-My c-chest h-have…b-been s-strucked…” His body collapsed in her arms and she had to lay him in the ground to find what was wrong.
“Oh
