Chapter Thirty-FivePresent day
Raven's fingers were sticking together, matted with the viscous liquid. As he pulled his fingers apart, lumps of the fluid clung between them and then dripped to the floor, congealed. He wanted to feel the horror and disgust he had felt the first time his hands had been covered in blood, but it was becoming horribly familiar. How could killing another human being ever stop having an impact? Maybe he was turning into Khan after all.
The death would never end. A bath was slowly filling to the brim and each person he killed was another drop into the pool of guilt. How could he ever hope to drain the water away unless he pulled the plug? He thought of Kiri's words again, that death might be a release, that allowing himself to die could absolve him of guilt. Wha
