Becky just realized why she often dreamed of blood. She had never counted how many times the dream came true but it had never been truer than the situation she was facing now. The blood of her friends bathed and sprayed everywhere as though she joined a tomato-throwing festival. The smell was awful that she wanted to vomit. And soon, her blood might drop there. Never imagined being trapped in this worst situation, the g*n was still in her hand but it did not make her feel any safer when she was a coward who had no courage even to make an aim. Critical crisis, yes it was. This room could not be their shelter for long. They were coming. The death crawled from the other side of the door.
The brave ones were discussing how to get away and would not be eaten alive. She preferred calling them
