"Marcy!" Dominik's voice rang out as he rushed onto the scene, his breath catching at the sight before him. The air was heavy with the smell of blood. His eyes widened in disbelief. "Seems like I truly was late this time."
Marcel stood in the middle of the mess, as his face was cold and unreadable. His fingers clenched into tight fists before he steadied himself. He turned to Dominik and gave him a confused look.
"Why are you here?" Marcel's voice was clipped, icy, as if he had locked away every trace of emotion behind those words. His jaw clenched, and his eyes, which were once full of warmth, were now bloodthirsty.
Dominik walked up to him, unfazed by the blood splattered across Marcel’s hands, and at the ground beneath him. He pulled out his handkerchief slowly, eyes scanning Marcel’
